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Adult Confessions | Women-only |
Women Only
Ladies, this is the place for your own special brand of confession. Did you sleep with your best friend's boyfriend? Did your Aunt Flo visit unexpectedly while you were wearing white pants? Did your boyfriend lose a condom inside you? Did the padding in your bra fall out?

The things you can confess here might fall into other sections, too - but here you have your own place to post. Men, feel free to read and reply, but please, let the ladies do all the posting.

After all, this section is for ... Women Only.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 31

    I am a first generation born American. My parents immigrated to attend college. My mother's best friend also immigrated here and they have been best friends all their life. As it turned out my mother had me five years after her friend had him. They both have other children.

    I was fourteen. My mother called me to the kitchen and her friend and him were sitting at the table. I was told to take my place. I was told that he was going to go off to college. He was told that he left with visions of spreading his seed but he had his woman here. To pay close attention, that his woman was sitting at the table with him and they were sure his woman was not giving him permission to spread his seed in other women. As for me, I was to consider myself his wife. True I was a girl but I was also a woman. I was his wife.

    That was it. We were left sitting at the table. We sat in silence for a long time until we got up and left.

    Later that night, when we were home, my mother came to talk to me. She said it was just what had to be. I was too young to go with him, and he was too young to behave himself. Before he left I had to make sure that he enjoyed his wife. I was to get into the middle of his brain so the only thing he thought about was coming home to enjoy his wife.

    He enjoyed his wife before he left. I can't really say that I enjoyed my husband until I was much older, in my mid twenties. By then I was in desperation to have a child, I was willing to tolerate anything from him.

    #40241 — Comments (0) — May 19, 2018 at 9:50 AM — That's Juicy! (2) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 34

    I would say that I was around eleven when I first discovered that I liked masturbating. I started with the handle of a kitchen spoon. I gravitated over time to various objects, including the banana and a cucumber. I didn't know that you should use a condom over them and they were cold. I more or less discovered my clit by accident, but once I did I hurt myself because I didn't lubricate it. I could have just used my own juices, but I didn't know better. I also did anal insertions.

    On one occasion, when I was alone at my grandmother's house, I got up on the banister of her stairs and sat on the post which had a round ball on top. I got it in. I was lucky I was able to get off and not fall off. I used a baseball bat but it was too big. I used a bottle but I got scared. I used my fingers a lot. And I played with my clit.

    I used my dog's nose. He licked me a couple of times, but he ran away. I needed something real and that was the boy next door. He was thirteen and very self conscious. I lay back on my bed with my legs open and told him to stick it in. He didn't speak to me again for a long time, and we rode the bus to school together. I sucked him once, I grabbed and played with him, but he wouldn't get on again. I think I messed him up.

    Along came Joe. Joe was a the older son of our neighbors. He had been in the Army and was back and trying to get into college. Open legs didn't put him off. He was the real thing. And he came over for it all the time. He knew about it and mostly he came all over my stomach, back or face when we titty fucked. He also used condoms which he taught me to put on. I got real familiar with his penis and became a regular cock sucker.

    And then it stopped. I just lost interest in it. I let him, but that is what it was, letting him. All that fire in me had gone away.

    I look back on those couple of years and wonder what the purpose was of all that desire. I have never had that desire again, I want sex, but not like that. Reckless sex. If my neighbor hadn't been who he was I would have ended up knocked up. We had our share of those girls at school. I never criticized. I actually felt sorry for them and would be their friend. I came that close to being one of them.

    About the only thing left, kinky thing left, is I like to bury my head in the pillow and let my husband manage me from behind. It's not really doggy sex, it is like masturbation with a penis. I am thinking of things, daydreaming. Sometimes I have an orgasm, most of the time I don't. Feeling him have an orgasm is enough, it feels good to have him have an orgasm. I like to walk around with his sperm in me. That's my kinky thing.

    #40210 — Comments (0) — May 16, 2018 at 10:41 AM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 31

    I was 26 at the time. I got into a sexual relationship with my boss, actually my boss' boss. This caused a lot of problems at work because he didn't care and everyone knew that he was having an affair with me. We never did anything at work, but after work he took me out to places in town and it was an open relationship. His car was at my apartment in the morning. At that time the affair was very active with sex of one kind or another almost every day. I couldn't get enough and he couldn't get enough. Really it was out of hand and much of what I did in those days still causes me embarrassment. But nothing was off limits to him.

    He reconciled with his wife and one of her conditions was that I be set aside. I wasn't, he and I stayed in our affair. We just didn't go out in public. I had moved to this house with a garage, he had a garage door opener and would hide his car in the garage. That doesn't mean that my neighbors didn't see him come and go.

    One day his wife came to my house. She didn't pretend that it was a surprise, she found all kinds of stuff that belonged to him. She didn't take anything, she left it where she found it. She asked me how many years our affair had gone on, not counting, but how many years? She said she remembered when he first started seeing me, but now I was 30 and he was 55. Was I going to be there when he was 89?

    We talked about a lot of things, some about sex. She told me of their youth, when he was on her all the time. Sort of what it was like when he and I first started seeing each other. We had that in common. Those memories. We shared those memories, laughed at those memories. She is all ok with me. That is what she came to tell me. She is ok with me. Life would be less fun. We have that in common, a dirty old man.

    #40209 — Comments (0) — May 16, 2018 at 9:44 AM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 29

    It is not fair that I am a woman. It is just not fair. It doesn't matter a whole lot about equality, sexual harassment, male/female pay equality. At the bottom of it all it doesn't change that I am a woman.

    As a woman I am burdened with the responsibility of having kids. Yeah, the guy is also involved. The key word is involved, the guy is not pregnant and the guy does not make the baby and the guy does not deliver the baby and the guy does not raise the baby. If I don't have kids we don't have kids. He can't do it.

    I would love to be focused on an outside job. Instead I am focused on my kids. He helps, don't get me wrong, but he is not focused on the kids. I am. I am because I am the mother. The more kids I had the more my husband, their father became another kid. He is as much work as the kids are.

    Getting back to having kids. I was railroaded into it. My job was to have kids. My job is to have kids and my job is to run the house. That is my job. My focus. That I went to college for four years, that I graduated with honors is all good. But in the end, I graduated, was walked down the isle, given to this man who took me with him and knocked me up. Was I involved? Barely. I was there. I was still in shock.

    I have four kids. Four kids who were all born in period of five years. The age difference between the kids is around one year, give or take a couple of months. After my fourth kid was born I had a long talk with my doctor about tubal ligation. Her answer to me after the long talk was don't do it. I wasn't a good candidate. I wasn't through having kids. Even my doctor says my job is to have kids. I have had a three year breather. Time to start again. My doctors says I am a perfect specimen, I will do quite well getting pregnant again. I am a specimen.

    Half a dozen, so that means two more. I will have them pretty much like the first batch, one and then the other, and what if I have a seventh child? I won't give it back. My count is seven, not six. I don't like even numbers, it sounds so planned. In nature you have kids until you can't anymore, and that means that you can easily have an odd number. Seven is my target, I like the number seven. He will be involved for sure, but the work is on me. It is my job.

    As a young girl my dream job was being a flight attendant. Until I found out that the flight attendants don't make any money and mostly fly between Peoria and Cleveland, not between New York and Paris. My next dream job was being a television reporter. Until I found out that television reporters are mostly paid very low, and only one I'm a million gets into a major market. And for that you have to have the look. So my next dream job was getting a degree in Finance. I was going to have kids anyway so the degree didn't really matter. I knew that, not when I was in high school but by the time I was in college. One sober look in the mirror and you know you are made to have kids.

    You grow up, you go to high school, you go to college, you get married, you have kids, you take care of a home and a husband, and maybe when the kids are all up in their school years you can work somewhere close. I could never be a flight attendant, I would not be home and who would take care of my kids? That is why it all unfair. It's not bad, but it is unfair. Uneven, like having seven kids instead of six. It is unfair. A single tiny little moment and you are either made into a female human or a male human. If you happen to be a female human then your job is to have kids. It's that simple, it starts right at the very beginning, a flash of light and you either make kids or you kick it off.

    One look in the mirror when I was nineteen and I never wanted a job that would keep me away from having kids. I love my job, I would not trade it for anything. Today I am outlier, wanting a larger family, but around me more and more women are having kids. I am leading the way, yes I am part of a movement. The more kids you have the bigger the haul on Mother's Day.

    #40184 — Comments (3) — May 14, 2018 at 8:28 AM — That's Juicy! (1) Remove This. ( ** )
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 20

    Orgasms from kissing. It's only happened a few times to my boyfriend. We'd be making out on the couch or even one time in the car one time. We're just making out, kissing each other deeply. Then he just suddenly pops one in his pants. I feel a little bad, but honestly, it's such a turn on like I was making him this hot.

    I for one, get really turned on from it making out as well. I get quite wet down there, but no orgasm happens though. I really wish I could orgasm just from kissing. It really sounds like it would be intense. Any other women ever achieve an orgasm just from making out?

    #40179 — Comments (2) — May 13, 2018 at 4:58 PM — That's Juicy! (7) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 31

    I enjoy doing housework. It relaxes me. I enjoy cooking and setting the table. I don't mind cleaning up. I like to iron. I am a lab director. I have a PhD. in Microbiology. Coming home to housework gives me a taste of reality. I am young, 31, and I want to make more kids. I like being a sex object. It is flattering and pleasurable. I like getting naked for my man. I like his gaze, I like him getting hungry for me. I could do with a bit more spontaneity. I miss being dragged across the living room floor. I miss being humped in the kitchen. I am not a fan of anal sex, but I want to feel him in my ass.

    I hired our nanny because she is an amazing nanny. Because of what I do I get paid very well. My husband gets paid very well. We can easily afford our nanny. And my husband wants her. I want him to have her. I want to know what he does with her. I don't want him to tell me, I want her to tell me. I like it when she complains that he won't leave her alone. I want her to want him. I want to watch. I want to watch her with him. I want to wake up with her in bed with us. I wish she would come and sleep with us.

    I am not a ten, or an eight, maybe a six. My husband can well afford a ten. But he likes me. And I have his kids. An he likes what I cook. He likes wearing ironed shirts. He likes having kids. He likes his house, his wife and his kids.

    I would really like for him to bring our nanny to bed and make love to us. I want her to watch me and I want to watch her. That is what I really want right now.

    #40168 — Comments (0) — May 12, 2018 at 10:12 AM — That's Juicy! (14) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 37

    I feel very ashamed with myself and disgusted but I cant stop, I am a married woman my husband is a work alcoholic and most of the time he tired and not in the mood for sex, my sex drive is very strong, I suppose ide better bet to the point, I have herd of women doing this but I never thought I would, so hear goes I was naked ready for the shower I was putting clothes out on my bed, when I felt our German Sheppard dog sniffing my arse this nothing new he has done it before and I have pushed him away, but I am sex starved so I let him then I felt his tong licking between the cheeks of my arse so opened wide and bent over and enjoyed the oral I was so excited I got down on my hands and knees he was on my back straight away he kept missing my vagina so I guided him in and let him do the job, after my back was scratched, I vowed never to do it again but two days later we were at it again and again and I cant stop.
    I feel like a dirty slut, Would and woman like to talk to or tell me there experience, I suppose I deserve criticism as well.
    Jean Frank

    #40156 — Comments (7) — May 11, 2018 at 5:45 AM — That's Juicy! (19) Remove This. ( * )
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 48

    I usually walked across campus between my Chemistry and my Psychology class. At college there were far more girls than boys, and I had other interest and I wasn't dating. I wasn't totally inexperienced, but I was a virgin in that I had never had intercourse. That day a guy was between me and the way I went. He had to make room for me to go by and told me to slow down and take my time. This was on a Wednesday.

    The Friday he was there again, only this time he grabbed my arm and told me he wanted to talk to me. He was a grad student, he had seen me on campus and he wanted to know me. He didn't let go of my arm, and my chest was heaving up and down and he was watching. He told me I had a nice rack. I tried pulling away but he didn't let me go and told me that he and his friends were having a party that night and he wanted me to go. He made me tell him my dorm and he told me he would come and pick me up at seven because he lived off campus. He asked for a kiss, and told me again that I had a nice rack.

    I told myself that I would not be at my dorm at seven. But I was there and he took me to his apartment. We were early and he had me help get things ready, go with him to the store and buy some things, get the paper plates and cups out. He showed me his apartment and his room, and asked me for a quickie before the people came. I was standing between him and the bed, he had closed the door and asked me to lift my blouse off and show him my rack. He told me he liked big brown nipples and he hoped I had tits like that. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants and underwear and stood naked in front of me.

    He got an erection, and told me he wanted to get our little fuck out of the way, he wanted my tits and he wanted to fuck. It wasn't so quick, he went down on me and had me go down on him and he spent a good amount of time fucking me, getting off, eating me, fucking me again, feeding me his dick, and fucking me again until he just came in waves. I was now his official date and girlfriend. After the party I spent the night with him and in the morning we had sex again before showering.

    I have a group of six women that get together every Thursday for dinner. What we have in common is that our daughters were all in school together. All the girls are married. We have known each other for a very long time, since the girls were in grade school. We know our stories. We talk about our youth, about our exploits, about our lovers and our good days and bad days. We talk about sex a lot. We talk about Viagra and Cialis, we talk about oral sex, we talk about anal sex. We have all adopted the position and let the man put his mark on us that way. We talk about setting up the mood, getting him away from the tv. We talk about porn. We talk about toys.

    We are very open about sex. When one of us having a problem, the others help her solve it. The one thing we all agree on, it is a shame that you don't know as much when you are young, it is a shame that you are so embarrassed when you are young. It is a shame that the guys are only after one thing, fuck you and get off. I still have my body, which for my husband is all about my rack. He really does like large brown nipples. I know that he likes naked, he likes oral sex, I know that when the rubber hits the road he wants me to be his bitch. I have always been his bitch, in the bedroom and in the kitchen. I was his quintessential barefoot pregnant bitch.

    My friends find it hard being the bitch. They find it interesting that I go there. I tell them they should try, just once. It keeps my fire alive. Maybe it will kindle a new fire.

    #40151 — Comments (0) — May 10, 2018 at 9:41 AM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 49

    I met him on holiday. We met at the hotel. When I got back from holiday I got a letter from him. It was long and full of nonsense. But I felt obliged, or rather my mother obliged me, to answer him. I wrote a nice two paragraph letter telling him how nice it was to have met him. I got another letter, just as long, we are talking three pages. Again my mother obliged me to answer, hand written letter, no cards. It just wouldn't end. He wrote me and I had to write him back. We were fourteen, I lived in rural Virginia and he lived in Texas.

    Then, when I was sixteen I got a letter that said he wanted to come see me. He had gotten his driver's license and he was going to drive from Texas to Virginia to see me. My hand trembled writing him back. My mother made me rewrite the letter a dozen times until I said I was so excited for him to come see me, but please be careful because Texas was really far away.

    When he came, he was driving this old pick up, and he took me down the road to the Dairy Queen. We talked, he was all grown up talking to me. When he dropped me off my mother asked me how it had gone, and I told her he was too old for me. We were both sixteen. She said, try again. God, what did she see in this? We made arrangements for him to sleep over at some friends and the next day my mother had a backyard cookout with all the neighbors and friends for everyone to meet my boyfriend from my holiday. She said 'boyfriend' when she asked everyone to come.

    She shoved me over there, hold his hand, show him how much I appreciate him coming to see me. Hold his hand. Hold his hand.

    That evening, after everyone had gone home, we sat in the living room. Just the two of us. With nothing to talk about. He asked me if I was going to college. He wanted a college educated wife. My mother came in and served some drinks and cookies and told me to get over there and sit beside him. I sat with my arms across my chest. My mother came in and excused herself, got me by the hand and took me into the kitchen and told me to get back out there, sit beside him, hold his hand and show him that I was interested.

    Since he was staying with friends he had to leave around seven, and I had to walk out with him to that pick up truck and let him kiss me good night. My mother came in and sat on the bed with me and told me about the birds and bees and that boys came back for the honey and I better give him some honey to come back to. I wasn't going to do better in that town and this boy was college bound and I was going with him.

    The next day, he was starting his drive back after lunch, I was left alone with him and I was told to get him to have sex with me. If I didn't he wasn't going to come back for me, grab his hand and put it on my boob, grab his penis in his pants, lean back on the couch and pull him on me. No pants, just an easy skirt for him to get his hands under and pull my panties off. Give him the honeypot and you own the bear.

    We wrote back and forth for two years, when it was time to graduate from high school he chose a school for me in Texas, he said it was a good school to go to and become a teacher. It was out of state tuition, so I had to move to Texas, work for a year and then go. He sent me the plane fare and met me at the airport and drove me to meet his parents, who I had not seen since the holiday when I was fourteen. He put me in his room, in his bed and said he would be on the couch. I was going to live there and when we got married we would sleep together.

    Not sleeping together didn't mean he didn't come by for his share of honey. It may have been his honey pot, but he gave me no respite, and I told him if he was going to be seeing me like that every day we might as well get married because I was his wife anyway. I got married, and that made me a Texas resident and I got into college.

    Everyone was happy. He was happy. My mother was happy. My mother in law was happy. I was married, nineteen, trying to get some classes under me, pregnant with my first child, living with my in laws. For whatever reason, not my doing, I ended up pregnant every year for four years. I finally finished my college education with four kids.

    It's been a long time now, my parents and his parents are passed, we live in Texas and our kids are having their kids. He is still all adult around me, always has been, and I am still wondering how it was that a chance meeting on holiday sent me down the path of marrying a boy from Texas, having four kids and spending my life as a teacher. That fourteen year old girl on holiday never though about any of this. She just wanted to be left alone.

    #40122 — Comments (2) — May 7, 2018 at 10:31 AM — That's Juicy! (2) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 30

    As a college student I met a guy from Latin America who was in his graduate program. Tall dark and handsome. I was overwhelmed by him and on the second date he had me over to his place and he had sex with me. It was quick, and I felt very bad afterwards, I wanted to go home but he kept me there and told me he would take me home in the morning. It was the first time I actually slept with a guy. In the morning he had morning sex, to get his day started.

    I learned that to be the girlfriend I had to accept certain things. When he was thru listening to me would say 'ok' and slice the air with his hand, which meant shut up. When he wanted something and I had not done it I got the finger in my face, with a 'you know that is what I like', or 'you know I don't want you to do that'. If I resisted I got the two hands in front of my face with 'enough'. The best thing to do was not do what he didn't like, to do what he did like, and not argue or refuse. Sex was every time he got the chance. And not always romantic, sometimes we only had time for a quick fuck bent over, but either way he got his dick in me. That way I was his girlfriend.

    For his graduation his parents and two of his sisters came up. His parents are distinguished doctors and his sisters were still in high school. In the morning at his apartment, that night I did not spend the night there, but that morning I got into a conversation with his fourteen year old sister. Smart, and worldly for a fourteen year old. But when we got to the part of how he demanded that I do what he wanted her answer was along the lines that he was a man and I wasn't. She emphasized, 'he is the man', it is your job to be the woman. That's what American women don't understand.

    Throu gh the ceremony I sat with his parents and his two sisters. So well dressed, so poised, I couldn't believe that they were all so passive. It was so hard on me, it made the relationship difficult because I ended up having to back down all the time.

    He asked me to marry him. I said yes, but inside I wasn't sure. I knew that I had a good chance of having to move to his country where he would work in the family business. But I didn't ask, I just said yes. I got engaged while his parents were there, and I sat in the room while his parents spoke to the other siblings and their siblings and friends announcing his intentions to come home with a wife. The wedding had to be quick, he would leave and come back for the ceremony, but first I needed to go and meet his extended family. Approval was still necessary.

    His sister is an Ophthalmologist. Her husband is a general surgeon. We went to their house for a breakfast reception. She was all over the place, serving people, and especially serving her husband. My soon to be husband told me that it didn't look good if the wife doesn't serve the husband, so watch how his sister looked after him.

    Later that day I found myself in a sitting room with all three of his sisters. The fourteen year old, the seventeen year old who I had not really spoken to and his eldest sister who is the doctor. I asked them if I would fit in. What did they think of their brother marrying a girl from Nebraska, who's only claim to fame was being a junior high cheerleader. The fourteen year old said 'your pretty' and you will have pretty babies. The doctor told me to relax, things were different that in the States, you just had to learn how to be the wife of a man like him. American men were used to doing for themselves, but in their society it was a pleasure to serve their men. To show them they were special. Here, you had to be a woman, all day and to let the men do what the men do. Don't interfere and everything was going to be all right.

    In spite of it all I got married and moved to his hometown, he took the job of running their automobile dealership business, I took the job of being his wife and having kids. As his sister told me, I had pretty babies. I learned Spanish, and get along with my sister's in law, especially the youngest who is now in college. Unlike me she will return as virgin as when she left, there is not much acceptance in their family of a girl getting married who is not a virgin. And she would never think of having sex before marriage. Even so, I counseled her about birth control and that boys in the US expected the girls to have sex. I gave her a box of condoms just in case, and told her to get on birth control at the university medical clinic. She would just be another one of the thousands of girls on birth control.

    I don't get the correction gestures very often, I do get the shut up signal a lot. I need to say what I need to say, and his enough gesture, or his sister's looks don't stop me. He married an American girl, he got his pretty babies, I've fulfilled that part of the bargain. Now he is learning to accommodate his wife. I am not his daughter, I am his wife.

    #40119 — Comments (2) — May 7, 2018 at 9:13 AM — That's Juicy! (2) Remove This.
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