quizzical pussy

You may be interested to know that although I’ve been putting sex confessions up for a little while now, I haven’t yet had anything close to an inkling of whom any of them are coming from.

I’m not sure if that says something about the wonders of anonymous forms or my profound density concerning recognizing writing styles (if people who leave comments on the site or whom I know in real life are indeed sending in secrets). The only ones I know for sure about are the ones I send in (for the record, the one about Lemon Party was me and it’s absolutely true). I can’t even begin to speculate on the rest.

Without further ado, here are this week’s secrets:

I’m a nice and lovable guy who gets along brilliantly with everyone who meets me or knows me. And yet 90% of the things that come out of my mouth are lies…about everything, starting from simple things like what I did that day or ate the previous. Ending with things like my level of education (I’ve lied it to be higher and lower than it really is) and pretty much everything to do with sex. I’ve been to a psychologist with this problem and ended up making things up so well that she said that I’m just imagining the fact that I’m lying to everyone and about everything.

I made a big deal out of my fuckbuddy sorta-kinda-a-little gray-raping me when we broke up, but I never told anybody that it was the second time. Several months before that he’d gotten on top of me and I’d said “no” and he stuck his dick in me anyway. But only for a second, and it didn’t hurt or anything, and maybe it was some kind of misunderstanding, I was lying naked in his bed after all. So I felt like it would be silly to make a big deal out of such a small incident and kept seeing him.

Oh, and before that there was an incident where he just lay on top of me and held me down (he’s got a good hundred pounds on me) and didn’t let me move for several minutes even though I was begging him. But he didn’t do anything sexual to me, it was just… weird.

It’s not at all my place to say whether you should consider your own experience rape or not, but I feel like I should say this in hopes that you’ll read it: I personally think that any time you’re saying no and a guy sticks his penis inside you, it’s a big deal, and you’re perfectly justified and not at all silly if you treat it as such. I know there are lots of forces that work against feeling justified in that, so I want to make sure you hear it from somewhere. For what it’s worth.

I want one night in the sack with my boyfriend’s best friend. Just one night. I don’t want to date him, don’t want a relationship with him (god knows it wouldn’t work), but the way he looks at me sometimes I know he’d eat me right up. I just want to see what he would be like to fuck. I know we’d go after each other like a pair of crazed weasels. I don’t feel terribly guilty about it; I’m sure my boyfriend keeps a file of women in his head that he’d like to go after, just once, just because they turn him on that much.

I haven’t had sex with my wife in a year or thereabouts. She’s given me head ONCE since our wedding. I should of realized this would happen, when we were dating and engaged she NEVER offerred, I always had to beg. Then when she knew she had me it stopped. Other than the disappearing head we had an OK sexlife until the sex stopped too. Now I think I hate her or close. She’s a glorified baby-sitter (for kids I love but who she insisted on having) who always wants more cash and attention. The worst thing is that I’ll never have the guts to divorce her or cheat.

When I was young, I used to watch porn on my parents’ computer. I’d also read hot (but badly written) erotica about everything: beasiality, food, stepfather rape, whatever. When the computer started getting viruses and bugs related to sex, my parents asked me and my siblings about it. I blamed my older brother. They still don’t know it was me. (I’m female)

Now go visit the Sex Confessional and anonymously tell the internet something you’re never going to tell anyone who matters. You know you want to.