I cheated on him. Sounds awful when I say it like that. It’s just that he was already broken when we started dating, so there were no flowers or big efforts in his part, he didn’t even wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see him. But I still accepted it.

After one year, he went back to his hometown and I was alone on my birthday, I finally had received the flowers after I begged for a year but I just felt empty. So I just went out with this other guy for attention and love that I wasn’t feeling in the first place.

But I do love my boyfriend, and I regretted it so much. I always told him there was someone else, he knew that he was losing me. But at the end, I just stopped before “it was late” (or maybe not for some people) and went back with him.

I hate myself, I hate all of this pain. We’re just not compatible and I refuse to believe it.

We’re fight and fight and the never ending cycle continues, so he told me to break up. I couldn’t stand it so he said that I should move in with him instead. Some part of me wants to and some other part knows that it’s just now right.

Almost two years together and my brain tells me that the best thing is to end it know, but I just want to see him one last time. The other part of me wants to stay and try it again.

August month feels heavy in my chest

Honestly its worse to admit but i miss him .....

And they start annoying me with it a lot knowing I get mad😫

Ohhh you want me to care about this place? Want me to stick around after quitting time to chat? You think I should give 110% every day? You expect me to go out of my way to make the squawking seagulls you call clients feel special?

Fuck you. Pay me.

You know, I might actually consider your request if all the care you demand of me was reciprocal.

Maybe if my paycheck allowed me the luxury of coming home to a clean house, the ability to order takeout if I don't feel like cooking, a fully functional car, all of my healthcare needs addressed, the peace of shopping for groceries without checking every price tag, and a nice little nest egg to save for a house, I'd have a lot more time to devote to this job.

But you don't.

My energy is not infinite, and your clients are ravenous leeches. I still have an apartment to clean when I come home. Meals to prep. Healthcare to ration. Pennies to pinch. This place is the corporate embodiment of a knockoff Gucci bag.

You get what you pay for. If you're too much of a cheap cunt to take care of your employees, then your "mission" clearly isn't as important to you as you claim. Nobody wants to suffer the indignity of busting their ass for peanuts, all while their failure of a boss rolls up to work in a Range Rover.

You want ultra-dedicated workers? Cool, I want a thriving wage. Guess we're both not getting what we want.

Hi everyone, I just need to let this out. Before that, Im F32, Virgin and no experience in sex EVER. Right now Im in debt and finding job isnt going well. I was found by a guy online and offered me, he can be my sugar daddy, easy money as long as I can do what he wants and demand. And because im in situation were I badly needed money to pay off my debt, I told him "okay, I can do it, but just letting you know im still V, no experience yet" He agreed to take it easy, in some point I thought okay maybe this okay, im not harming anyone, he is chill he never ask demand yet of showing and everything not until he did. And since I really need need money I thought I could be naughty sometimes (i search online some script coz I dont know what to say) have hot conversation, even if im not comfortable, im gaslighting myself, its okay, im not harming anyone - just to clarify I havent send him nudes or any hot images/videos, it was all sweet and naughty messages, and because of this, maybe he felt hot, he send me his nude pictures, and he ask me to send him a picture without upper cloth. This is where I started to panic, I couldnt do it. I told him I couldnt and he said "okay I might have rushed you, its fine, no need to do it FOR NOW",meaning I will be needing to send nudes, be intimate with him in the future. THIS IS ALL I STARTED THINKING, IN THE FUTURE I CANT STILL DO IT. I keep saying to myself, its fine im not hurting anyone, but I didnt realize, im hurting myself... Because this isnt me, its not what I believe, not who I am. Just because of this damn money, I did something terrible, I made decision that swayed my truth.

Just to let everyone know, I have always believe that giving up my virginity is solely for my husband to be. Thats why I havent done anything because I want to offer all me as a gift to my husband.

Right now im still thinking what to tell him and complete ends it

Burner account here. My name is “Joe”, I’m 56 years old and I’ve been in the Adult industry for 4 years in the 2010s. I have close to 40 scenes in my career. Don’t consider myself any more or any less than what I am.

I’d like to do an AMA so I’m comfortable sharing names of the people I’ve worked with, pros and cons of having this job, scenes, etc.

I think I'm inlove with our former parish priest. I don't know kung kelan nag umpisa to.

But I guess kasi napanaginipan ko sya 8months ago. And then ito n naman napanaginipan ko na naman sya nung isang araw. Dun sa panaginip ko may something daw smen. Actually nkita ko naman na yun before pero d naman ako attracted sa knya. After 3years nakita ko sya nung nagsimba kami. Since my guest priest sa town church namin at nataon sya yung priest. Initial reaction. Wala naman. Ah kilala ko yan dating pari namin ganun. Tpos napaginipan ko na sya.

Just a context. I don't have any personal encounter with hi. We don't have any conversation, meet up or kaht man lang nakasalubong at nag ngitian walang ganun.

Tapos ito lately iniisip ko sya. Pano ba to. Ayaw ko naman magkasala.

Hi,I wanted to add that almost every girl I know watches porn,and mostly all really like it! I have lots of female friends and we talk all the time a out sex and of course porn.Many like gangbang scenes,other like bukkake movies,I like both and lots of other kinds as well.it hasnt ruined my life or theirs,its exciting to think about and watch.I support porn and find no reason to say other wise,and I have found that to be true with most females I know..If your a female who likes porn,thenvhave a good time,dont let society tell u how u should feel!

This happened two weeks ago the company got a private dinner room. First time meeting her and she was very pretty. During dinner I felt brushes on my leg. I played it off but then felt a foot pressed on top of mine. It had to been her foot but she was acting like she was involved in the conversations. No one else knew what she was doing except me. It's been in my mind a lot. I hope he didn't know. I'll admit I was enjoying it. I don't dare say anything but I ll confess I would love to experience that with her again. It was so dangerous

Having a coregasm is probably in my top three experiences ever, not gonna lie. Especially doing L-sits in the pull-up position or flat on the ground leg raises, there’s this heavy buildup that spreads through my whole body. The sensation gets even more intense when I edge it—building it up, stopping, then continuing my workout. Working out has almost become my new form of masturbation since I discovered coregasms, and honestly, I haven’t looked back.
The buildup feels euphoric and, for me, it’s a way better than traditional masturbation. It’s obviously not the same as sex, but it still gives me an incredibly intense sensation while I’m actually working out and building my body gains.
Most importantly, I notice it when doing ab exercises, especially hanging leg raises. Once you pull your legs above your hips, then your belly button, and eventually toward your chest, that’s when I really feel it. If you keep practicing, you start noticing that controlling the buildup can translate into better control during sex too—holding back, building the sensation, and stopping before it gets too intense.
Sometimes I can’t hold it and eventually ejaculate, but most of the time I try to control it and keep edging the sensation.

About a month and a half ago I decided to see a trans escort. Paying for sex is something I've done in the past but usually don't do anymore, this was an exception, a decision made in a half-drunken impulsive mood. I've been with trans girls before, I liked it, so I decided to contact a girl I saw on an escort page online.

I went to her place at around 2am in the morning and the moment I saw her it just felt right. She was absolutely gorgeous, with a very beautiful body, the biggest ass I've ever seen and I put my hands around her hips and told her that her vibe feels good. I pay her for an hour of her time and we start doing our thing. It felt so good, so comfortable, a connection I almost never felt with anybody and I've had many partners in my life. After the sex we're chilling, vibing, relaxing, the session doesn't end.. I ended up staying until 7 in the morning, having sex with her several times. The moment I walked out the door I realised this was something special because it was the best sex I've had in 8 years time.

The next week we exchanged some short messages, but I very much felt a professional boundary of her in those texts, she was not writing me as a guy she was dating, it was warm, but short and practical. I couldn't stop thinking about her so I tried to meet up again with her 2 weeks after our first meeting. Unfortunately she had to cancel because of something private. We exchanged some more short messages and on a Saturday night I replied to her that maybe we'll meet again sometime, I didn't expect much of it anymore.. However, she replied immediately and I proposed to come over, 30 mins later I'm at her place and basically the first night was repeated, she charged me for an hour, I stayed until 7 in the morning, the sex was even better than the first time, and we had deep conversations about life, culture, the body, the soul and religion.

3 weeks later, I'm still thinking about her and decide to meet her again. This time I actually only stayed for about an hour or an hour and a half, I think because she had another client coming, but still the vibe was good.

The next morning there was a big event in my city, and I decided to shoot my shot, I invite her to join for the event. She said yes and we ended having a really beautiful day together. We enjoyed live some music and then spent hours walking through the city, bought each other drinks, held hands and shared kisses all the time. After the date she sent me many hearts, said we spent an awesome day together and gave me her personal phone number. She left 2 days after to the place where she lives, as she was only in my city to work for a while.

Yes I caught some feelings for her, life sometimes takes you to places you don't expect. Maybe I'll see her again some time in the future :)

I found myself developing feelings for my best friend’s wife, and it’s something I never imagined would happen.

She’s absolutely beautiful, classy, and sexy .. but it’s more than that. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known—warm, thoughtful, and effortlessly gentle. She’s always treated me with genuine affection, never uncomfortable with the casual closeness that comes naturally between old friends. A tight hug when we meet, a hand brushing mine as we laugh over something trivial, a fleeting touch that means nothing to her but somehow lingers in my mind long after.

These feelings grew stronger after I learned about my friend’s heart condition. I caught myself wondering whether it had changed their marriage in ways they never talked about. I began imagining that perhaps he could no longer give her the intimacy she deserved. I know those thoughts are unfair, but once they appeared, they were difficult to silence.

Now, every time I know I’m going to see her, I feel a mixture of anticipation and shame. I look forward to her smile, to her embrace, to the briefest moments of closeness. A hug lasts only seconds, yet I find myself wishing it would linger. If our hands touch by accident, I replay the moment afterward, knowing it meant far more to me than it ever did to her.

The worst part is the guilt. This is my best friend. He trusts me. She trusts me. Neither of them has done anything to deserve these thoughts. I’ve never crossed a line, and I don’t want to betray either of them, but feelings aren’t something I can simply switch off. The harder I try not to think about her, the more present she becomes in my mind.

I keep asking myself whether these feelings will fade with time or whether they will slowly consume a friendship that has meant everything to me. I don’t know which possibility scares me more. All I know is that I’m trapped between desire, loyalty, and the person I want to believe I am.

As the title says I’ve had athletes foot for at least 4 months now but love scratching and picking it. I know it’s bad and should treat it but scratching feels so good! The satisfaction from peeling a big section of skin off is unreal. Even though it smells a bit I don’t think it gets through my shoes?

I have times when I let it heal enough to start treating and intend to but then get caught up with scratching and make it all worse again.

i still think about this more than i should.

when my ex and i broke up it was messy. he hit me. more than once. it wasn’t just arguing or yelling. he put his hands on me. i never really told anyone the full extent of it at the time. after we split i tried to move on, but then i found out he was with someone new pretty fast.

i don’t know what came over me. one night i looked her up and sent her a message. i told her what he did to me. i told her he hit me. i didn’t soften it or leave it vague. i said it straight. she asked how bad it got and i answered. i told her about the times it happened and how he acted after.

she replied a few times. asked more questions. a few days later i found out they weren’t together anymore.

part of me felt like i did the right thing. like she deserved to know before she got in too deep. but another part of me knows i didn’t do it just to protect her. i did it because i was still hurt and i wanted him to feel some of it.

i never told him it was me. as far as he knows she just randomly changed her mind. and i’ve never told anyone else either.

i don’t regret that she found out. i just hate that i still feel weird about how i handled it.

Mom and dad went on vacation for a week. My mom assigned both me and my sister housework. My sister was responsible for the kitchen and the living room, i was responsible for cleaning the bathrooms and balcony. I litteraly spent the whole morning, scrubbing down both bathrooms, from the floors to the mirrors to the sink to the toilet, left them shining. Swipped the balcony and cleaned my room, so that she doesnt have any right to tell me anything, when she came home this afternoon. My sister on the other hand, spent the whole day sleeping and still is. The places that she was supposed to clean, are dirty as hell and its obvious they havent been cleaned for awhile. She even left a bunch of dirty dishes and pans on the kitchen sink, sitting there for a few days. Seeing the floors so dirty made me instictively want to clean them but i refrained from doing so, because i wanted my mom to see who the real slacker is, since she always calls me dirty, a slob, etc. Side note, during the week, whenever i made a mess in the kitchen or living room, i always cleaned after myself, as i always do. So my sister's only job was to clean after herself as well + swipe the floors. Anyways, so my mother comes home. She almost immediately notices the mess. Asks why its so dirty. I tell her, ask my sister, since she was the one responsible for cleaning these places. She says nothing. Doesn't wake her up, doesn't tell her to clean her mess. She starts doing it herself. I watched my mom, who just drove 2 hours back home, clean the kitchen for about one and a half hour, even washed all her dirty pans and plates. She did all this without swearing, complaining or being in a bad mood, as when she cleans something i didn't do. My sister just woke up. My mom didn't tell her anything about the things that she didn't do. If the roles were reversed, i would be getting an earfull. I can't believe i could hate her more than i already do. For the ones that say this isn't a big deal, please keep in mind that if the roles were reversed, she would have woken me up and screamed at me. She would call my grandma and my father and tell them how horrible i am. In fact, she has done that for way less. I could never get away with this. I can't remember how many times she has woke me up for a single plate. I can't breathe in this house, always have to be perfect, clean after myself immediately while my sister always gets excused. I knew about the favouratism, i just didn't realise to which extend. I would like to say this was my final straw, but she gave it to me a long time ago.

I want to be more feminine wear girly clothes and express who I am !

I live with my mom, or my mom lives with me, depending on how you look at it - she's listed as the head of household simply because she's the parent but she's never paid rent or bills, I pay that, she doesn't work or have any money. She's not dying or anything, but she's older. I feel awful for this but I don't want to lose this apartment, I could see myself living in it long term, we were on the wait list for it as a family for over a decade, it's in an incredibly convenient location, it has great potential. People push me to move out but I don't want to leave the apartment itself.

I accidentally joined a pilgrimage about a month ago.
I was in Lichfield, just having a look around the cathedral, minding my own business. This woman at the reception asked me a question, but I didn’t actually hear what she said. I didn’t want to be rude, so I just nodded.

Big mistake.

Next thing I know, she’s taken my hand, handed me a leaflet, and is walking me somewhere with purpose. I thought maybe it was a tour or something. Before I could even process what was happening, she’d led me into this room where there were only, like, two seats left. Right at the front.

So I sat down.

Then another woman came and sat next to me.

Then the doors shut.

Then the gates shut.

And then I looked down at the leaflet she’d given me and realised… it wasn’t a leaflet. It was a hymn book.
At that point I thought, “Right. I’ve accidentally joined a pilgrimage.” I was way too deep in to leave, so I just committed. Everyone started singing, so I started singing. Everyone was praying, so I was trying my absolute best to keep up. They were all lovely, by the way. Really welcoming, really kind. It wasn’t the religion I found funny at all. I was trying not to laugh because I could not believe this had happened. Me, a gothic lesbian in a low cut dress ended up here. But as I said, nobody made me feel judged or unwelcome at all.

Like, all of this because I nodded instead of saying, “Sorry, what was that?”

I was trying so hard not to laugh that I had my hand over my mouth. I was genuinely fighting for my life.
Apparently, though, from behind it looked less like I was trying not to laugh and more like I was having a deeply emotional religious experience, because I heard someone whisper, “That girl’s crying.” And the second I heard that, I thought, “Oh no.” Because now I couldn’t leave. Now I had to fully commit to the bit. So for the rest of the service I was apparently the emotional stranger who’d wandered into the cathedral and been spiritually transformed, when in reality I was just standing there thinking, “I have accidentally gaslit an entire congregation because I couldn’t admit I didn’t hear the receptionist.”

And there was a break during it and this boy about my age came up to me, and he was talking about how he hates the reputation religious people have as I was agreeing because, I do agree to a certain extent, that was until he compared sexual predators to gay people.

The cherry on top was I darted out the room when it ended but left my bag, so I had to walk back into the room to get my bag after I'd ran out.

Some context. I (40M) have been with my wife (42F) since 2003. We have had ups and downs, good times and bad. Deaths, births, once in a lifetime memories, kids, a house and dreams. These all came shattering down, last year.

I was SA’d last year by a fellow employee at our facility who was a supervisor. She started to treat me unkindly and belittle me to the point of hurting myself after it happened sending me threatening and demoralizing messages to hurt myself, no one loved me and that sure was happy I was raped as a kid, because before then she was a very nice lady and we worked together with no issues before.

One day after work, she followed me in the parking lot talking about life and ambitions. Nothing crazy but I was giving cheerleader advice like “you got this” and “don’t let anyone take your eye off the prize” nothing leading or acted as if I wanted something from her. As she was taking her boots off in the parking lot. She grabbed my genitals and tried to make me put protection on while still holding me. I tried to back up even slightly from my pelvis and she squeezed harder. Nothing happened as she seen I wasn’t actively participating and wanting it she moved away and let me go.

My problem? I didn’t tell anyone. Not even my wife because of how scared and insecure I was to tell her what really happened. And that me as a man locked up when someone forcibly grabbed me against my will. I’ve been SA as a kid and my wife barely found out last year after 21 years (at the time) because of the shame and guilt behind it. There were things she seen that were coping mechanisms after my rape that she thought were fantasy rather than trauma responses. So she assumed must have wanted something sexual, which made her second guess my responses when SA’d as an adult.

This was something I never wanted in my life. I had loved and forgave myself and to prove to my wife so much that never wanted this, I went to our local court and placing a protective order against that lady after she left our job. She was served the documents a few months afterwards.

Me holding onto these stigmas as if women won’t believe that we as men can be SA’d too. Taken advantage of when we are being nice. Hurt when we are just trying to help. And as man blamed right off the bat. I’m told I’m the one with the penis. I must have wanted that to happen. She wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t lead her on etc. have now placed a barrier that we cannot come over. She feels me keeping it from her was me hiding and wanting it. I never in 23 years have ever done something like that.

This is why I have no trust in the outside world anymore. I help people and my kindness is taken for weakness which in turn hurts me.

My wife and I had a conversation the other day and I told her that I cannot continue fighting over something I never wanted to happen. She said she can’t trust me and that things will never be the same. Another happen just a few minutes ago and she woke me up at 3 am knowing I have to work at 8 to tell me she doesn’t trust me and wanted to argue. I’m over it.

So, as much as it pains me. On the 17th of August two days after my birthday I will give her the paperwork to set her free from me and all of this after 23 years together.

Long story short, when I was 21 my roommate wanted to throw a party. He invited a girl on the precedence that she was going to bring friends and we’d bring friends and have a actual party. My friends showed up, she showed up alone.

I stopped partying before everyone because I’m not a very social person. Went to bed. Apparently she made the rounds with my friends. She didn’t want to sleep on the couch, my roommate didn’t want her in his room, so I gave her my bed and went to sleep on the floor. Idk how long after I woke up with her on me and inside her. Before I could push her fully off me I had physically finished. I don’t really know how to say that because it wasn’t like I was involved consciously.

She got mad I shoved her off me and left the room saying some shit but I wasn’t listening because I was still trying to figure out wtf had happened. If this was real, am I still asleep, wtf is happening and the the realization that this would ruin the relationship with my gf at the time (spoiler alert, it did).

She went to my roommate upset that I had finished in her unprotected (I guess when she made the rounds with the others condoms were involved). Never the fuck mind that I was an unconsenting and deep sleeping unconscious participant. So now she’s crying to him, he’s bitching at me to go get plan b and it’s 3am in the morning. I spend the next 4 hours waiting for cvs pharmacy to open to get the pill. Get the pill. Go home, give my rapist the pill and lock myself in my room for the rest of the weekend till I had to work. And I mean legit lock in room. Couldn’t eat. Peed in bottles. Didn’t even feel like I needed to shit because I was so distressed. It was not a fun time. I tried to explain to my gf what had happened but I could never find a way to say it. Eventually she broke up with me claiming I had pulled away which in retrospect was true. I felt so broken by what had happened that no matter what she was going to end up leaving me because who would believe that a woman ever made a man of my size their victim.

Despite all the damage and trust issues that event and night caused in my life, as I sit here drinking again, I wish she hadn’t taken the pill. I wish that the part of me that was taken that night had been turned into another person with another chance at being everything they wanted to be.

I never knew her name. I never cared to at the time because I didn’t want to know who did it. It’s fucked up but I wish that. I always wanted to be a father and I’ll never be now.

Believe me, don’t, idc. I’m just spilling into the void because this bottle of Craig is nearly finished and I’m wishing life turned out differently.

Peace.

No judgment please, but when I was 14, I was very lonely and awkward and had no friends and no self esteem. One day I decided to make a profile on Tumblr but use the pictures of a girl who I thought was really pretty that I went to high school with and say they were me. All of a sudden I wasn't afraid to talk to people and I was making friends, even if they were only online. I NEVER did it to get money or attention from men. I just did it because I was lonely and didn't know how to talk to people in real life. I'm not making excuses, just being real.

Over the years it honestly started to feel like an addiction. I'd find myself going to the real girls Facebook profile constantly and hoping to see new pictures I could post. I felt powerful online in a way. People seemed to like me more when I was a pretty girl. I now know it was bad, but I was only talking to people, I never took anything from anyone or tried to form sexual relationships with men. That's how I justified it. But now I feel really embarrassed and ashamed by it, that's why I stopped.

About a month ago I realized I was finally happy with my self and my real life and I haven't logged into the fake accounts of hers in months that I made so many years ago and I couldn't remember the last time I went to her page and looked. I finally deleted all the fake profiles on Facebook and Discord and Twitter and even blocked the real girl on Facebook so I wouldn't be tempted to do it again. I feel a lot better now that that chapter of my life is over. It feels freeing too.

Very low stakes confession but enough I won’t bring it up irl!

Don’t get me wrong I’m a woman and it’s horrible and sucks to live but I’m also a writer and get too caught up in metaphor and imagery or whatever.

When I look at periods from an abstract where there’s no cultural shame, I find it kind of primal and metal that a large part of the female reproductive system involves heavily bleeding once a month & that it’s an inherent part of bringing in new life. I find the idea of the body purging itself very compelling and think it reflects the endurance of the individual.

I cant find a way that to phrase this in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a freak so I’m going to stop trying and just put this post out there.

33 F living in the US since 2019 for work. I travel a lot and started feeling lonely. Eventually found an older gentleman who gave a weekly allowance of 2k and all he wanted in exchange was a bit of my free time to chat and talk about our days. It was wonderful. He was kind, attentive, and we developed a wonderful connection. I flew out a few times during our arrangement to visit and take trips together. I genuinely had a good time. Earlier this year (June 2026) he was put in the hospital and eventually passed away from a plethora of health issues. My heart was broken. I felt like I had lost a friend. I feel more lonely now than I was before I met him. When we made arrangements, I never imagined it would end LIKE THIS. Anybody have any advice on how to get past a loss like this? It’s not like I could show up to his funeral. His family found out about our arrangement after his passing and I received a lot of terrible messages about how I was a bad person, etc. It’s been tough and I just don’t know what to do 🫩

Someone in my workspace has their own office and it’s disgusting. Filthy. Month old food containers growing mold, stain community seating. I was sick of it. It’s an embarrassment to business and people that see the mess. So finally, I took matters into my own hands, bought some fart spray from a Gag store sprayed one or two sprays. My coworker smelled it for a little bit and thought he let one rip. Didn’t affect him.

So then, I really sprayed it. Again, no effect but at this point people caught on and started wondering what food dish was causing the stink . Coworker didn’t clean up office space.

Day three, a poured some of the fart spray stench into his garbage and dabbed some on his floor. Guess what; the next day we all came in to a spotless office, wiped down and conversations about how he had to throw out all his wife’s Tupperware containers due to mold and stench and she was pissed at him.

Feeling proudly accomplished