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- Spousal Secrets Unveiled -
Straight Female / 29

The Truth About Marriage, It Is Thrust Upon You

I was on my way to graduate school. I had done well on the GMAT and had already been accepted to Chicago. I went to a graduation party, and there was a couple of guys there that were basically neighbors of the girl having the party. I swear I don't know how I ended up at the guy's place, in a bed with one of them. I don't really remember him having sex with me, but I was naked and leaking. When I tried to get up, he pulled me down and I had to sleep between him and the wall. I was cold and naked so I got into a fetal position, and somehow he interpreted that as me giving him my backside. He took it. I woke up with semen in my rectum and my vagina. I had avoided sex all through college, and now I wasn't going to Grad school because I was pregnant and going to Texas with him.

Marriage is something that every one knows about, but no one tells you what it is really about. First of course there's the sex part, he has you there and he uses you. Say no, and all hell breaks loose. You have to learn to cook. It's not optional. Forget the part about fifty fifty, it's only fifty fifty in a total sense, he works and supports you and his baby and you take care of the rest. Marriage makes you a woman. Not sex.

I applied in Texas and got accepted to Rice. We moved closer to Rice so I could go to school. But before I started I had to deal with a second baby, because we all know that babies need to be close together. That's another thing you learned when you were fourteen and now you have to put the theory to work. I don't know when I started using the word HUSBAND as the definitive word for him. Equally I used the word WIFE. I was HIS wife, he was MY husband. And of course, these are MY children.

I do have my MBA, and I stay home with the children. I don't want to work. I am lazy in that way. Why work if I can stay home? I have a whole social life with other stay at home mothers. A party to me, is a party where we get together for coffee and cake and all the children of all the mothers. The time of day is measure as to when the kids go to school, when they come home and when I have to be home to fix dinner.

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# 64907 - by Annie
    • - Dysfunctional Family Secrets -
    Lesbian Female / 29

    I Still Can't Believe I Have Four Kids And All I Want Is Another Baby

    I am an artist, I studied Fine Arts in college, and I have been fortunate to be able to practice my passion. I am also a lesbian, one does not have anything to do with the other. In college I was in a long term relationship. But after college she went west and I went east, back to my family.

    I was not out with my family, it was strictly a college behavior. I was pushed into a relationship with a guy I went to school with, he was back from college. I won't say we dated. It wasn't dating. We were friends. That's it. I had no interest in him. It was at a Thanksgiving dinner that he pushed himself on me. I asked him to back off, and we went outside to argue. I told him that I wasn't interested, and that I was a lesbian. He called me out for it and said bull shit he didn't believe it. To prove his point he fucked me. It wasn't invited, it wasn't wanted, but it was real and I got pregnant.

    Because of the pregnancy I got married. Everyone was for it. On both sides, his family too as he needed to settle down and get serious. Living with him was stressful. With the baby things got more difficult. I managed to keep him away from me, but one day he said he had waited long enough and he fucked me. I got pregnant again. I had a second baby 14 months after the first one. Now I really did have to stay at home. He worked for his family so there was enough money to buy a house to live in. But he wasn't going to jack off or find a girlfriend, so I had another pregnancy within the year of my second one. By then I was considered a productive little bunny.

    I had two boys, and then the girl. I got angry at him one night and told him he had cheated me because he had given me two boys and not two girls. Well, he went ahead and gave me another girl. I won't say that at that point I had forgotten about being a lesbian, but my hormones were all fucked up and I didn't have desires, not for him and not for anyone else either. I was tired, my uterus was overused, and my vagina stretched beyond imagination. If I didn't think I was a girl in the tenth grade, I sure knew that I was a girl with all the girl plumbing by the time I had my fourth baby.

    I got the order for a blowjob. Why didn't I give him blowjobs. Because I wasn't going to put that in my mouth. But he was insistent, demanding really. He wanted a blowjob. If getting fucked was a hard step in life, sucking on a dick was harder. It didn't work anyway. I never have done it again. It's just not me. It's funny in a way, because when I was in college oral sex was the heart of lovemaking.

    Over these last eight years, I have had to perfect home management, home schooling, home cooking. My kids do not want restaurant food, they want mommy's cooking. He likes to go out, and I feed the kids before going out with them. I'm a good cook, everyone that eats what I prepare tells me. So here I am about to turn thirty. And what do I want for Christmas? I want another baby.

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    # 64906 - by Leslie
    - Sisterhood Secrets -
    Lesbian Female / 29

    Dragged Into A Lesbian Relationship

    Excuse me if I get a bit long winded. I was pulled into my bosses life kicking and screaming. She wanted me with her, didn't trust me living alone. The pandemic sealed it, I moved in with her. I don't think you can explain what it is when your boss, another woman, wants you in bed with her and kisses you on the mouth and puts her hand on your chest. We were stuck at home, she kissed and made love to my pussy. And I had to reciprocate. One morning, after coffee, she sat on the table in front of me and opened her legs for me to have my oyster.

    By the time the pandemic ended I was ready to get a place of my own again. But that wasn't ever going to happen. I was tied to her apron strings and I was as good as married to her. The day I got married with her for real I stood in front of the mirror asking myself what had happened. I looked at the inside of my wrist with the lesbian interlocking gender symbol, with her initials in circle and my initials in the other one. She has the same tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A wedding g*ft.

    Sex is still vibrant. It's the center of our relationship. Sex, night and day. Its been seven years since I had a penis in me. And that's the price you pay for being a lesbian.

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    # 64904 - by Augusta
    • - Masculine Misadventures -
    Straight Male / 49

    I Got Her Pregnant, Still Friends With Her, She's Seventy

    Three friends and me went skying in Utah over winter break. Three guys and a girl. All of us freshmen. On the second day I missed the trail and hit a tree and ended up in a hospital with a concussion and a broken leg. I didn't have insurance so they wanted me out of there in a hurry. My friends left to get back to campus. I was sent to a shelter.

    A nurse at the hospital came by to pick me up and take me home with her until I could make arrangements for my family to get me home. I was in bed, on the couch, because of the concussion. And the cast on my leg was a big problem. My mother told me all she could send was bus ride by Western Union. The nurse told me to stay, until the doctor cleared me.

    She decided I needed to get an education and was surprised some college girl hadn't taken advantage of me. She gave me a blowjob, and stood in front of me naked. I realized she wasn't a college girl, she was actually going to turn forty. I got my first time with her. Which wasn't easy. I suppose I had a smile, which she told me what I'd done wasn't anything special. Talk about busting my ego.

    I stayed with her for three weeks before I caught the bus to Phoenix. By the time I caught the bus I was getting along on my crutches. I got an extra long hug and kiss when I was leaving. She put a note in my shirt and told me not to read it until the bus was outside Utah.

    "I think maybe you're going to be a papa. If that comes to be, thank you".

    She left her name, address and phone number.

    A boy. My son. He's thirty.

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    # 64903 - by Chris
    - Childhood Confessions -
    Straight Male / 59

    My Child Bride

    Her name is Stephany. She is my age, six months younger and we went to school together. When she was ten, we were in the fifth grade, he father was arrested for some bank crime he committed. It was all something that I didn't understand until after I was home from college. Overnight Stephany and her mom were out on the street without a home or a car, all taken as settlement for what her father stole. He was sent to prison.

    Now, this part is hard to understand because it just doesn't make sense, unless you've lived it. Stephany's mom was 32 then. She had been a secretary. She was now needing help and my father stepped in and gave her a job at his company. As his personal secretary. And because they didn't have a place to live he had them live with us. I think my mother wasn't part of the decision, but she understood a woman left on the street and she accepted her. Now two things happened.

    One it seems that Stephany's mom got pregnant by my father. It is a right of passage necessary to become part of the household. A couple of babies makes things easier. And Stephany moved into my room with me. No one checked what we were doing. Nothing, not one question. Stephany was told to be a good sister and I was told to take care of her.

    Stephanie was fascinated with my penis, and how it got hard when she played with it. She knew a whole lot more about the birds and the bees than I did and she experimented putting my penis in her vagina. We had 'intercourse' at ten and eleven. Complete full intercourse. It took only a couple of tries for us to figure out how our mother's did it. My father was doing her mother, and I was doing Stephany. Perfect. She is going to grow up to be a perfect little wife for you. Not her mother, not my mother cared that we were having intercourse.

    When she started with her period she was put on a 'regimen' of a pill a day. It was to help regulate her period. Now there was this time of the month thing, and she had to wear these dark black pants. Stephany did not like her period, and we couldn't have intercourse. Believe me by then we had intercourse almost daily. Her mother instructed her on what to do and be sanitary, and my mother told me that while she was delicate it was ok to hug her, but keep my love bug out of her.

    We got two new sisters, and with the need for more space we moved to a new house. The two little sister got a bedroom, my parents (which now included Steph's mother) got a bedroom, and we got a bedroom. We were thirteen and fourteen and slept together. By now there wasn't any discussion, Stephany was my wife and I was her husband. We were married by an angel when she was left on the street and the wolves and bears that were going to eat her. I was instructed to make her feel welcome, to keep her close to me, to watch over her. She was instructed to take care of me, to pick up after me, to sit beside me, to help with dinner. We got married when she was fifteen and I was sixteen. With a ring and a vail.

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    # 64902 - by Harold
    • - Dark Desires Unleashed -
    Bi-Sexual Male / 56

    Andy, Who Showed Me His Love For A Penis

    After my wife left me for her church I moved out to downtown to be closer to work. I moved into a small apartment a couple of blocks from the office, the intent being to walk to and from work. The support services, barber, bank, groceries, all required me to drive. After a few weeks of eating take out and prepared meals I needed to get out and see people. A few blocks down the street was a Chinese restaurant, the Empire. I went there, and got seated against the wall in the back being, a sole diner. The place got full and I was reading a paper from the office and a man walked up and asked if he could join me, the place was full and he didn't want to wait.

    I said sure, sit down and he immediately said his name was Andy. He lived in the 'tower', a high rise condominium. He sold insurance before retiring. Nothing like auto or fire, he sold the big dollar stuff to companies. He talked and I listened, I felt invaded I needed to read that paper from the office. He asked all the leading questions, who was I, where did I come from, how come downtown, any children, basically everything without asking the obvious, did I have money.

    He volunteered that he had been perfectly single and didn't miss for a minute some woman. Andy asked me to come up to see his condo, maybe I would like to buy one, he could arrange it. There were always people needing to sell and this way it avoided the realtor and the commission. The tower was nice, very clean. It was occupied primarily by older people, couples and singles, widowers and widows. Average age according to Andy was 65 plus. It wasn't officially a retirement community, but could be.

    Andy's place was a single bedroom, but very nice and the open area was spacious. He had nice art on the walls and nice furniture. He said he had a cleaning service, he didn't do dishes. One painting on the wall in the outside half bath was interesting. He said he got it in Morocco from a friend of his that lived there. On close examination it was young men dancing around 'naked', obvious but subtle penises. He saw me look at it and he agreed, a little risque but what the hell. And he touched a penis on the painting.

    By then I had already figured out that Andy was a confirmed bachelor with friends in high places. Friends with benefits. And he liked art and sketches. On the side chair, which he said he bought in Mexico, the armrest ended in a penis. When you sat or stood up that's what you held onto. Makes you feel like a man, doesn't it. In the main bathroom over the mirror two lamps of naked cherubs, with their little penises. In his bedroom on the dresser, three carvings of penises, he said he bought them in Indonesia. This man had a fixation on penises.

    He sat me in the armchair and opened my pants and 'made love' to my penis. I mean he made love to my penis, getting me hard and then slowing down to manipulate me with his warm hands, before going back to kissing and suckling. I came so close to loosing it, but Andy was paying attention and he kept me from ejaculating. Rubbing my penis against his face he asked me how I liked it, straight in, or worked in slowly. He offered to prep me, wash me and lube me, before giving me his penis. Or maybe I wanted to shower with him.

    We showered and he lay a towel on the bed and I laid on it, and he worked himself around me, kissing my butt cheeks, before fingering me with a wonder lube he bought somewhere. He was methodical, worked it in and out, slowly, ever so slowly. A man's got to know how he likes it. It took a while, shoving up against me caused me to rub against the towel, and at the right moment Andy thrust it in and I ejaculated. I was spent, but not Andy, he worked on me until he was ready to give in.

    I found out that Andy was a fan of certain medications, which again was something he got from some far away place. He was a master with his tongue as well as his penis. He showed me this small brass bell on a table, lifted it and inside was a young boy with a man giving him the business. Greek. Nothing better to show than a young man enjoying his master's penis.

    I left around midnight, after watching a black and white movie of two men who showed off their penis, and spent a lot of time making love to it. Andy said it is that movie that showed him that making love to a penis, take your time, work him and don't let him cum until you are ready for him. Anyway that's the theory. My penis is hard thinking of it.

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    # 64901 - by Geoffrey
    100 of 40,972 Confessions Displayed.

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