My boyfriend left me in June and I finally feel like I’m over him. I’m 18 turning 19 in December, Latina, not skinny😂 and I’ve been repressing my sexual desires for months 

I've been ragging the Brits recently about how ugly their women are, hoping that they would inject some new, unseen photos in Motherless to prove me wrong. So far, all they've done is get pissed off and call me naughty names. No Btit has accepted the challenge, reinforcing their sexually repressed stereotype.

So now, I'm issuing a challenge to the Danes, Germans, Italians, and other creatures that lurk here. Got any pics of your women? Are your women better looking than the Brits? (that wouldn't be a high hurdle...) Show us! We're tired of carrying your lazy European asses! Give all of us something new to see!

This is just a way to clear my head.
This isn't your normal confession.
This isn't some made-up story or even something that really happened. Well, not in the sense most of you are expecting (that is to say, if anyone actually reads this).

Anyway, I'm an 18 year-old boy. I'm socially awkward (5 true friends, all of them female). I'm intelligent (holding steady at 7 or 6 place in my school). I'm pretty fugly (not so much my face, I'll admit, but more my body. I'm fat and have loads of body hair). I have issues with my self-esteem (which should be pretty freakin' obvious by now). I am sexually repressed (read: first masturbated at the tender age of 12 and only ever had one girlfriend. Possibly one of the best things that happened to me, and I screwed it up). All-in-all, I'm a stereotypical nerd, glasses and all.

But sometimes, my mind goes a little weird. I'm not talking about suddenly having weird fetishes (I have them, getting to that) or dreaming strange things (again, later... well, maybe) or having a psychotic break or nervous breakdown (never happened unless it was in sports). I get these little things stuck in my head and my mind won't let it go until I do it (case in point - this post).

One of those little things that I actually have come to adore is to put whatever girl-I'm-with's pleasure first (note that I said one girlfriend. Nothing about casual hookups. Well not hookups, some making-out and me playing with her breasts). That means that I don't really care if I feel good, as long as she feels good. Well, that's a lie. Making her feel good makes me feel good. Let em tell you, nothing quite as stimulating than having a girl moan into your mouth and you know it's because of you.

Aaaaanywaaaay... This means I try a lot of things. Little kisses up the collarbone, biting the chin or neck or bottom lip (even her nose at one point. It was fun, okay?), tugging at her hair, pinching her nipples through her shirt with her bra slid down, all sorts of little things. All for her. Like I said, makes me feel good to make her feel good.

Which doesn't sound that bad, right? And it isn't. It really isn't. It's kinda fun. Make a game out of it. How fast can I make her moan? How long till she rubbing herself against me while she's on my lap? How long can I hover just out of reach before she tries to kiss me again?

But I always stop before things go to far. No touching her privates. I want to say nothing below the belt or under her pants, but I've gone groping her ass a couple of times. Anyway, this means the farthest I've ever gone is kissing, licking or biting my girlfriend's breasts and nipples (and even that didn't last long. She felt uncomfortable and, to tell the truth, so did I). Hell, that casual hook-up I mentioned? I actually stopped her from taking off her bra.

And that's not even to mention the little things that set me off, sexually I mean. A girl biting her lip? Hello, my little friend. Girl wearing stockings (which is hell in a school with a uniform, by the way)? Down boy. Lots of little things. Some strange, some not so much. A girl giggling when I do something silly like bite her nose while making out? Or looking into my eyes as we kiss? Nothing better. Nothing on earth, I'd wager.

Then there are the other things. Like lipstick. Good god, but lipstick sets me off. I've been jokingly suggesting to a lot of my girl friends (note: not girlfriends but female friends) to make leave a lipstick kiss on my mirror. Or one of my fantasy's involving a girl kissing me all over, leaving kisses like that in her wake.

Or picking her up against a wall, her legs around my waist, all the while just kissing. Having her lie down and not being allowed to do anything as I kiss her all over. Having her sit on my desk as we kiss. Little things, tame things, but hell if it doesn't get me going.

Also, sexting. Not anything really dirty (as I lack the experience), but still. One of the weirdest things was when I joked about a girl sending me a picture of a lipstick mark in her cleavage. She did it. I've never been harder in my live. But, no offense meant to her, she likes sending pics like that. Nothing explicit, but just enough to get her male friends a little hot under the collar.

I'm not saying I'm a nice guy or anything. Hell, look at where I'm posting this. But some days...

Not the point. Actually none of this has a point. This is just me venting a bit. Feels good, actually. I might have to do this again.

-ForgottenGeist, saying Hello World.
I'm still here.

... Fuck it. I was going to delete this after I wrote it (it was just a way to get rid of some things), but now that it's done... fuck it. May as well post it. give me something to coma back to when I feel like this again.

Lengthy confession

I find it shocking how many retards use these boards to make other people feel insecure or are just too dumb to understand that you don't have to fuck one gender

you know out there people today...actually scrap that since its can be tracked back people have never always been monogamous or hetero sexual polyamerious relationships have existed from the time of the Greeks same for homo sexual relationships...the real abnormal thing is how today mainstream society likes to especially in areas with a highly deprived education system such as America, make gay bisexual and anything not one man one woman relationships look like the devil

look in the kinsey scale and know your husband or wife has VERY likely looked at another man or woman and thought 'I would' because its normal

now im not saying your wife's a raving lesbian but shit if people were more socially accepting of this stuff we wouldn't have as many idiots posting shit on ppls confessions who are clearly sexually insecure saying 'oh hey bro your a fag' and who knows maybe there is a guy in your town who you've thought 'shit id like him to do x,y and z to me' but some asshole on here or another boards made him repress any sexual expressive desire he ever felt thanks to the social bigotry of people and very occasionally they turn out to be American .

get off your frightened little high horses and take that cock you wanted in high school you cowards it takes a real man to know what he wants and even more of a man to do what he wants!

if you like men and woman Good for you
if you like men Good for you
if you like women Good for you

Just don't be an asshole about it :D

Jute

I try to be good and behave within societal norms but I find it a struggle. I spend my lunch break walking around stores and all I can see is all the sexy fuckmeat.... I imagine pulling my cock out and stroking it only to have my hands pushed away and to have them use me. It doesn't even really matter who uses my cock as long as I get to goon and fulfill my purpose in life as a dumb fuck toy with a hard cock to use. It's all I can think about, I sit in my work truck most of the day stroking my cock more than actually working because that's all I truly want to do. I flirt with and most times I'm inappropriate with customers when I'm at their house or property. I make sexually suggestive jokes that most of the time border on the inappropriate side of things that would probably get me fired if it was ever reported. I've tried to repress this side of me but I can't and honestly don't really want to. It has actually gotten me attention from bored/lonely housewives in the middle of the day who tell me that their husbands don't look at or treat them as anything special anymore who've been craving physical attention and made to feel attractive. I've tried to be better than what I am but I can't. I fucking hate this website, how and who runs it are a bunch of miserable cunts who have deleted more profiles I can count for no apparent reason, but I always find myself coming back here because I can't find anyone in real life that can match my levels of perversion or depravity. I have relationships, I always try to be truthful and forthcoming about who I am and what I desire. The relationships I've had all start out the same after that conversation most tell me they're okay with how I am but before long my needs for physical contact become too much and they either leave or stay but pull away from our physical relationship which creates internal issues for me. I wish once in my life I could have the kind of relationship I truly desire/have been searching for but if I'm honest I'm not sure it actually exists and at this point I'm just about ready to give up on ever actually finding someone would actually fit in to any standard that I have or come close to it. I just feel like my desire and needs for physical/sexual attention won't ever be met at this point in life, maybe it's time to stop spending so much time and money trying/searching for what I dream of being the perfect relationship to just say fuck it and go alone. I feel like no one I've ever been with can match me sexually, some professed "nymphomaniacs" have come close but have always ended up tapping out when I feel like I'm just getting started. I don't know, I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm looking that's wrong. Maybe my needs for closeness and sexual attention are just too much for any one person and I'll never find someone who will truly satisfy me. Maybe I'm doomed to be an anonymous perv, always trolling the motherless website stroking my cock at inappropriate times daily thinking of all the sick and demented things I'd love to do to other or have them do to me, cumming multiple times daily but never truly satisfied. That's my life I guess, thank you if you actually read all this garbage and have a good day!

I confess that when I was 24, I dated a 16 year old high school girl. I finished university at 23 in Ontario and that summer I traveled out to BC with a friend for something adventurous to do. When the winter came, I decided to stay out there for a while and got a job at a ski resort, as a lifty. Many of the people working up there were either around my age or younger, and a fair amount were high school students from the nearby city. This super cute and fun 15 year old girl took a liking to me and we became friends, but I was definitely not interested in anything more. I had never dated anyone more than a year younger than me and although of course the thought popped into my head, I kept my distance. So much so that after a while we didn't talk anymore. Then the next summer I ran into her and we decided to hang out sometime. I was now 24. She was now 16 and her tits had grown in a bit more. I was turned on but still thought of her as little sister to protect. Well she started to ask me to hang out all the time and I didn't have much going on there not knowing too many people so I obliged. She even invited me to her house and her mom didn't seem that weirded-out by my age (I didn't lie because I wasn't fucking her). Maybe she thought I was a nice mature boy, which I was.

I of course lied about her age to people I knew but she looked really young and I think they knew. She was only in grade 10 for god's sake. It was only a matter of time before one night when I dropped her off at home (just down the street from her house so she could sneak in since it was past her curfew) she made a move. It was very movie-like and somehow I was just mesmerized by the beauty of it. It was raining, I kid you not, and I stood outside with her, beside the car, parked at the side of the road. I could tell she didn't want to say goodbye. She stared up at me with her big beautiful innocent eyes and asked me to kiss her, just this once. We had talked about it once and I told her it could never be, but it was so magical and I just gave in and gave her that hollywood kiss in the rain. Then she went home.

After that I still told myself I would not let that happen again, but in a way I really wanted it to. I had kind of fell for the lolita. I actually really liked her. She was so cool and gorgeous for a 16 year old. I was just so attracted to her and although my morality was against it, it really really turned me on that she was a fresh little teen with still growing tits and braces. One night without me knowing she arranged to sleep over by telling her parents that she was sleeping at a friend's house. She sprang it on me late at night and said she couldn't go home now so I had to let her stay over. Well she basically seduced me and I ended up fucking her. I asked her like 10 times if she was sure and she said yes. I later found out she wasn't a virgin so I guess it wasn't that big of a deal to her, but it was to me. It was fucking AMAZING! She was so young and so tight and firm and fresh. Sure, she didn't know how to fuck, but that only made it all the better at the time. She was on the pill so I nailed her bareback and pulled out to jizz all over her. One of the best orgasms I have ever had. A couple days later we were home alone at my place (all roommates gone) and I fucked her on the couch, and that was it, I was in love and prepared to date this girl.

We ended up dating for a year. Her parents didn't really like it but accepted it because I was a good guy and didn't hide anything and came over for family stuff all the time. They also had a lot of family issues and this was kind of the least of their problems. I fucked her right in their house, many times. It was so surreal. She still had a curfew and wasn't supposed to sleep over at my house and I wasn't supposed to sleep there, although we always broke those rules. Sometime I just couldn't believe I was dating a little high school girl with rules and parents to answer to. Somehow it made the whole thing so hot. I told my friends and family back home that I had a young girlfriend but still pretended she was 19. They would rightly think me a pervert for fucking a 16 year old. I eventually moved back to Ontario for grad school and never came back. We talked on the phone for a while and then I started banging a uni student of mine (I was a TA and one of my first year uni students came after me, but that is a whole other story) so I stopped talking to her and that was it. She was a great girl and I still wonder what shes up to sometimes. Since then I have fucked girls more than 8 years my junior (for instance I am 32 and fucked a 20 year old recently), but never a girl that young again. There was a certain precious beauty to fucking such a young girl and boy did we ever fuck. I really trained her and taught her everything. She even reluctantly let me fuck her in the ass a couple times. I just remember her stomach down on the bed, me holding her cheeks open with my fat dick in her perfect little asshole (no ass hair yet, and a nice pink colour), her moaning a little in pain and me thinking, "I can't believe I have my 24 year old cock in the ass of this tight little 16 year old. It probably won't ever get better than this."

Of course I have had some great sex since, but in some ways it will never quite top that triumph. The crazy part is I wasn't just using her, I actually loved the girl. This is just one of about a dozen sex stories I can never tell anyone in real life since it is too taboo but I wanted to share it on here. I have a feeling way more people than you think do stuff like this and nobody says anything because of social standards and such. How strange that we all want nothing more than to fuck a cute little teen, but no man can publicly admit this or he will be ruined. What a repressive time this is for sexuality.

I’ve got a hot cousin and I didn’t know it till our grandma died.

My family wasn't close with the other relatives. They lived 12 hours away, across a lot of states. Snow dumped on us every year, much like how my mom’s siblings used to dump on her as kids, and they were basking in the sun complaining of freezing fingers when it’s sweatshirt weather, you know? We visited my grandparents' at Christmas every year and if the schedules coincided, I’d see a few relatives. I don’t know most of their names. I’ve got 30 cousins including wives and second cousins (that’s the kid of a cousin, right?).

So after my grandma was done fighting cancer, we had a funeral. It was really sad and I don’t mean to cheapen the sentiment with literotica, but this was the first time I saw many of my cousins and learned a lot of names that I’ve forgotten since. But not Arya’s.

Arya is not her real name. I’m a Game of Thrones fan and GoT has a bit of incest and Arya’s my favorite character and so why not call my hot cousin Arya? It’s kind of close to her actual name. I’ll be changing everyone’s names to whatever, but Arya gets a special explanation for hers. She deserves it.

I drove the 3 hours from college to my parent’s then another 5 to my grandparents’ town. I was a mess. It hadn’t hit emotionally, but I was low energy in the midst of studying for finals next week and this was the first funeral I’d been to since I was 8 and went in my spiderman pajamas. Basically I didn’t have funeral clothes.

When we showed up, I was in a dark shirt and jeans, looking somber, till a relative I didn’t know, this fat bustling aunt in a floral print shirt, came up to hug my mom then my dad then me. She knew me! “Oh, James,” she said as she smothered me. “You’re so big now.” She was warm and friendly so I put on a big smile as I said, “Hi…”

Luckily my mom saved me and said, “I’m going to talk to your Aunt Sarah. Will you go put our coats down?”

My relatives are country folk living in the South. They’ve all got that accent. I’m more of a city guy. And I felt a little uncomfortable, maybe superior in my arrogance, around these bumpkins. And I’m generally shy.

So I sat in the fold out metal chairs with my parents’ coats and just kind of looked around, uncomfortable, and checked my phone. My college girlfriend had recently decided we were better friends than anything else. Which was fine and all, but well, I didn’t want to text her about this. It’d probably guilt her into some comfort sexting, but I wasn’t feeling so bold at the time. Now years later, well, different story. I think I just opened Angry Birds and played a few games while sitting in front of the closed casket. It was adorned with a wreath and there was a corkboard of photos of her at all ages, though most were her as Grandma. And a group of people I didn’t recognize examined the photos, blocking my view. They were dressed appropriately in dark suits or dresses.

The group came over and asked who I was and asked if I was so-and-so’s kid and I was and I asked who they were and who their parents were and all that. It was three girls and two guys. One of the girls and both guys were my cousins, and you could see the family resemblance, round-face, curly hair, pudgy, and the other girls were their dates. I didn’t know anyone brought dates to a wake. But I felt okay again having checked out the ladies’ asses, though one had been my cousin’s.

We talked for a little bit about the last time I saw them. A Christmas when we were kids, though one swore it was Thanksgiving but I told him, “No, no, we always have Thanksgiving at home.”

That kind of turned them off.

We were the family that never visited. All of them lived near my grandparents, and when my grandma got sick, all pitched in. All my family did was offer to pay bills till it got to the end then Mom came for a visit.

Anyway, they walked away to talk to other cousins.

I was in my early 20s and so were those cousins, but we had older ones. And this man in his 30s with curly hair and a little extra fat especially on his cheeks entered with this stunning blonde, I assumed he was my cousin.

Oh no.

They came up the corkboard, attached one of their photos, and I introduced myself and asked him who he was related to.

He was this bumbling guy. “Well, her. Ha, ha. I mean, we’re in a relationship—married, so I guess her.”

The stunning woman in this tight black dress that was strapless and squeezed her breasts so the pendant of her silver necklace rested in her sun-kissed cleavage complete with tanlines from a bikini laughed and said, “I’m Dana’s daughter. Arya.”

Dana was the oldest of my mom’s siblings and had gotten pregnant in high school, or maybe right after.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I told her and she said, “Oh! Remember when I was testing my make-up on you? Why is that so fun to do to little boys tied up? God, I must’ve been in high school then and you were maybe in Kindergarten?”

“I think I’m repressing that memory,” I told her.

“Aw, was it that traumatizing? You were crying…”

“You know kids. Always crying till someone kisses it better.”

“I tried that!” She didn’t have an accent. That awful Southern rural accent. Sorry, but you’re talking like Huck Finn, it’s hard to sound educated. It drives me nuts. But she had shed hers.

“You’d think I’d remember that.” I was smiling a lot. You know when you meet someone and it just clicks and you want it to click because hey, they’re hot? That’s how it was and because I had no relationship with her prior, ogling her, flirting a little, smiling like an idiot didn’t feel wrong. But doing all of that at a wake for our grandma did. “It’s too bad about Grandma,” I said.

She hugged me. I hugged back. Then her husband joined in and it got uncomfortable.

My parents came round and said, “Sorry about his clothes. He’s fresh from college—second year half way done! And he grew out of all his dress clothes.”

Arya volunteered to take me. “I don’t know where I’m going or anything, but I’ll get him looking spiffy. We can catch up.”

When we got in her car, a used Lincoln, probably fancy a decade ago but now all it boasted was a large backseat and seat warmers, she let her hair down from its tie. “Oh god thank you for coming under dressed. We’re just going to cruise for a bit because I can’t be in there mingling with Tom, Dick, Harry, whatever their names are. Right after high school, I got a scholarship to Florida and never wanted to go back. All those hick accents!”

“Yeah!” I said. “Like Huckleberry Finn!”

“Sure…”

“You know, Tom Sawyer. Deep Missouri Valley country hick accent. Sorry, I’m an English major.”

“And you’re smart! You are the blessing of this trip. I don’t really read so no clue what you’re talking about but keep talking. It’s helping me unclench for the first time since hearing I’d have to come.”

So we talked in the car about how awful the family was, the cousins, aunts, uncles, their divorces. She knew a lot of scandals I hadn’t heard like one of our uncles was in prison for a sexual offense, but even she didn’t know what. He wasn’t here today. Another was a junkie, in and out of rehab. Then we got to grandma and grandpa and both agreed they were the only good parts of the family.

“Other than us, of course,” I said.

“You’re definitely a blessing.”

“And blessed to be in this car.” I meant to imply with her more strongly, but something snapped me out of the flirty attitude, and I added, “Away from them.”

She smiled at me and we got quiet for a bit and she turned on the radio as we drove through the small town. It was near Christmas. Decorations were up. There wasn’t any snow. I told her we got like two feet last week and still had classes. She asked where I went to college. I told her to visit any time she wanted. I found out she was a helicopter medical evac personnel. She didn’t fly the helicopter, but she was the nurse or paramedic in back treating whomever.

Finally we got to a shop that sold suits and dresses. One stop fancy shopping. I had my mom’s credit card, but I didn’t think she intended to get me a full-on suit. It’d be my first. But Arya told me we were just getting the off-the-rack stuff. It wouldn’t be too much.

So I tried on some things she picked out and I came out of the dressing room still doing up my belt because the pants were too wide at the waist and were just sliding down off and dragging on under the heels of the dress shoes. We looked at how deflated I looked in the mirror.

“Get those off and we’ll get you the next size down.” She rolled down the waist to see the tag and what size they were. “I’ll bring you the next ones.”

I went back in the dressing room and took them off. I was just in my boxers and undershirt when she came in. Just barged on in through the swinging doors. I tried being natural about it, like I wasn’t uncomfortable or having dirty thoughts, but then she whipped out the measuring tape. “Put these on.” I did and she started measuring my seams. The outer one first. She told me to stop fidgeting as she was on her knees touching my thigh. Then the inner seem. “I used to work in one of these suit shops during college. The way we measured our special customers was to do the right in-seam, then cup *it* and move it over and measure the other side.” She laughed at the joke (I think she was kidding) and I thought about our dead grandmother so I wouldn’t twitch beneath the pants.

Then she helped me on the shirt and I buttoned all but the top two. She looked at it and buttoned them both, then unbuttoned the top. It was a little too big so she told me to get it off and before it was off, she starts pressing up against me trying to get at the tag in the collar to see the neck size. I think it was like 17 ¾.

She came back with a smaller shirt for me and a few dresses for her. They were a little more modest than the little black dress she had squeezed into. “I’m almost as unprepared for funerals as you. I bought this for a dinner party and a self-esteem boost. Sometimes you pay extra for that.”

I was shirtless and she was looking at herself in the mirror, checking herself out, and I was thinking she shouldn’t need to pay for it looking like she does.

Curvy and sun-kissed and blonde and tall and just perfect. The kind of girl you get a crush on even if you’ve just met her and found out she’s your cousin.

And I felt her back against me. “Oh sorry,” she said. Right against my crotch. With that perfect ass.

I couldn’t help it! I might have rubbed up against her a little with my erection.

“Is that what I think it is?” she said, laughing nervously but not moving away.

“Sorry.” I also stayed there.

“No, thank you for the compliment. Okay, I’m going to try these on now.”

I stayed, confused, horny, hopeful.

“Wait out there? I’ll be real quick.”

Damn. So I sat in the chair outside, hoping it’d subside, when she came out and we paid for everything and got in her car and left.

I was feeling pretty embarrassed that I’d “made a move.” Yeah that was the best move I had. Pressing against her like it was an accident, but both of us probably knowing it wasn’t. She knew. She kicked me out as she changed. She didn’t even try them on for me or any other little hints. The drive back was quiet. Awkward.

And when the funeral home was in sight, we pulled off onto a dirt road. This was a farming town with a lot of forests and field entrances and just places that a high schooler might go with his girl to makeout. She pulled into the dead end where we were covered in shade, just past a bend so we could hear trucks drive past on the main road, but not see them.

“Okay, we better do this before getting there,” she said.

My hope was restored.

Then she added, “Get changed.”

Hope tarnished.

“50 people talking about the dead, suddenly sad, rushing to the bathrooms. There’s no way we could change there. And wouldn’t want to do it in the parking lot where someone would see.”

“Sure, a relative seeing would be awkward,” I said.

“Yeah?” she said laughing.

“Yeah…”

“Then let’s make it awkward.”

I don’t know what she was thinking or what she imagined would come of it or what I should’ve done, but she stripped off that top awful fast. Let those breasts loose. No bra. A black thong. And I stared and she stared back and I started getting my shirt off and pants and I reached for my new clothes but she pulled something from her bag. New boxer-briefs. Real tight ones. She just threw them at me. Once I was naked she looked at me, erect, then stared me in the eyes. She was still naked except for that thong. I don’t want to forget the shape of her breasts, the size, how the tan-lines colored them, how they jiggled, her ass, the birthmark or any of that, but that was years ago. Details fade, get edited. I think her tits are bigger in my head now.

But her devilish smile. I can’t forget that.

Finally, she said, “Let’s get those clothes on. They’ll be calling soon, wondering if we ditched.”

And it was over. She dressed. I got a little peek at that booty, but not much, and when we went in for the wake, her dressed more modestly, my erection hidden till we got to the service and it died down. My mom and her siblings and my grandfather gave their eulogies and I cried and we buried grandma. Then we all went to lunch at some diner where even the table was greasy.

I wanted to sit by my cousin, but I had to sit by my parents and they wanted to sit by some fat aunt that kept asking about my future and so on.

I didn’t get to talk to my cousin till it was time to leave. “I’m serious about coming to visit. Any time you want. It’s beautiful in the fall. All the leaves changing.”

“Sure, sure,” she said.

“Or the spring is good. Tons of flowers. Ever heard of Dutch pantaloons? It might be a local name, but they make the campus smell so much better. Hides the BO and stale weed stench.”

“I’ll think about it.” God, she had to have smelled my desperation for more, but she wasn’t obliging. Fine, I can take a hint. A woman says no, you just have to let go, right?

“Have a safe trip,” I said and waved like I was leaving.

But she pulled me in for a hug, saying “You too,” then when I was pressed up against that perfect tanned body, she heaved her hot breath into my ear and said, “Think about me some time…”

Oh I have… a lot.

I confess that I feel incredibly sorry for the people of today being repressed sexually, mentally, and physically by moderate politics. Historically every time this type of thing happens to populations it generally denotes a society in rapid decline trying to bolster upper and religious class morals through enforced ideals and slogans and defining it as morally just, all the while ripping off the wealth and resources of the general public to entrench themselves as the 'ruling class'. In short- "give them something to bitch about and they'll never notice our hands on their wallets nor their eroding freedoms". Amazing- I personally think that religion, as a whole, sees it's future influence over people declining and are pitching a next to last-ditch effort to ensure it's power over the general population for future generations by reducing the rights originally available to the people by the Bill of Rights. Not by reduction of law and order, but by making the system so restrictive and watched over that a person will always be in the wrong morally and legally and so will always need religion and laws for guidance from any standpoint, in order to fit into their definition of what a just society is or is not. After all, we are just 'children' in the eyes of their lord, right?

This is 100% true.

For over 3 years now I've got the Tube to work, Blackhorse rd>>>King's Cross>>>Monument, and for the past 3 years there has always been the same woman who takes the exact same journey as me but we go seperate ways once we get to Monument. We usually strike up a conversation along the way, she wears a wedding ring and has said a few times to me that her husband is in the RAF, but she's very flirty with me and I've caught her staring at my bulge a few times and she sometimes wears a knee length skirt and sits opposite me uncrossing her legs and swapping over just long enough for me to get a look.

She's 24 and I'm 21 and just been made single, I have to admit, she's way out of my league which has been a barrier for me that I have been affraid to cross through fear of humiliation and having to see her nearly every day on the Tube. But for the past month or so I've been covering for a guy in another branch of work which means I've only had to get a train to Liverpool st station so we haven't seen each other for that amount of time.

So I've been back on my usual rota as of th 14th and I'm thinking to myself as I get on the escallator if she'll be there and how I should react to seeing her, whether it's to late to wish her happy new year and do I act surprised or casual to seeing her. As I turn the corner she's stood there and she sees me, she actually ran towards me and flung her arms around me and gave me a huge kiss on the mouth. My internal reaction was HOLY FUCKING SHIT BONER! but I kept my cool and we got chatting.

She first asked where I had been all this time and how she missed her "personal escort across London" and we were genuinely happy to see each other again, but that kiss she gave me was more than just a "hello". We got chatting as usual and I knew that if a stood even a remote chance with her I'd have to drop into the conversation that I'd split up with my girlfriend and I'm young free and single and on the prowl. So I see an opening and went for it, and she didn't even blink, took one of her gloves off and showed me a ringless finger and said she's getting a divorce.

We stared at eachother for a while in awkward silence, but I thought fuck it and was about to ask her out when she then said to me "you know, I haven't had sex in over 2 years?" My jaw hit the floor. According to her, her husband is sexually repressed and is repulsed by anything of a sexual nature, espescially intercourse. So I sat there and listened to her basicly tell me that she's horny as hell and wants a good shagging. By the time we got to Kings Cross she didn't want to talk about it anymore because it was starting to get busy and people were listening. But we got to Monument and arranged to meet eachother at the station at 1pm for a bite to eat and to continue our talk. I went straight to boots (it's a toiletries/chemist shop in the UK) and bought a pack of condoms in excitement.

Luch time came around and she didn't show, I was really disappointed but not surprised as she really is out of my league looks wise. I just went through my day as normal and went home.

The next morning I was dreading seeing her, my ex had also been trying to patch things up between us and that was on my mind too. But I was feeling confident, maybe a bit to confident and I left the flat and went to the station. Sure enough she was there and she explained that she had been held up at work and couldn't make it and she was sorry, I basicly said it's ok I understand fully, I mean we are two completely different people and we can remain friends if she wants. She laughed it off and said "no I'm not kidding I really was held up at work" and sat next to me and started stroking my inner thigh and smiling at me biting her bottom lip.

The Tube showed up a few seconds later and we got on it, the whole place was empty - it was just me her and the driver. We sat next to eachother and started kissing, she was giving me a handjob by the time the tube started moving, I unzipped and she started to give me a blowjob, this is the kinkiest thing I had ever done, I felt so alive and I could hardly stop myself from cumming. We arrived at Tottenham Hale and I kept a look out for people as she kept sucking the tip of my cock, no one got on our section of the tube and we were on our way again. She didn't even stop for air, sucking me off without a care in the world, not even the slightest bit worried about being caught. I couldn't hold on anymore and told her I needed to cum, she smiled and started wanking me off whilst she was massaging my balls, I came in her mouth and she swallowed it all.

People started to get on the tube at Seven Sisters station and we just sat there in silence until we got to King's Cross where I just said to her that I think we might get interrupted here and she laughed. We walked to the Northern Line platform where it was surprisingly quiet for that time in the morning and she started talking dirty and she wants me to eat her out later and fuck her in the ass like a naughty girl. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. It seems she likes running the risk of getting caught in a public place, I mean this platform wasn't busy but there were enough people around to hear her dirty talk and I got a few smiles and gentlemanly nods from a coulpe of guys that walked by.

The tube arrived and we got on, I've still got a bit of cum residue on the end of my cock and there was a metro newspaper on the seat next to me. So I looked at her and she knew what to do, I opened the paper upwards on my lap and she started to give me another handjob. There were 2 guys and a woman sat across from us who must have known what was going on but were too nervous or perhaps proud to say anything or look at us, Monument is only a short way from Kings Cross but she managed to get me to cum again - my heart was pounding and my breathing was so deep and loud I'm surprised no one at all said anything or even looked at us twice.

This is all true, and started on 14/01/10.
I've got more stories to share, and we are both getting more adventurous. If you use the Tube and want to come and watch us, we usually get to King's Cross at about 08.35

Try and find us, we're not that hard to spot out.

The "B4U-ACT" conference Aug. 17 hosted by psychiatric professionals discussed eliminating the stigma against pedosexuals, and proposes that the American Psychiatric Association (APA) redefine pedophilia as a normal sexual orientation of "Minor-Attracted Persons."

In 1973, our "post Kinsey era," a small APA committee of psychiatrists, quite terrified by homosexual public harassment, quoted Kinsey's human sexuality study and other scientific data to redefine homosexuality as normal, removing it from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) of mental disorders.

B4U-ACT goals are to "help mental health professionals learn more about attraction to minors and to consider the effects of stereotyping, stigma, and fear." This group of professionals also wants to teach pedosexuals "how to live life fully and stay within the law," insofar as the law is presently stated.

The psychiatrists discussed what "age of consent" should be proposed and what role pornography plays as a causative factor in actual child sex abuse. The prior was left as an open matter, and regarding the latter all participants agreed that scientific evidence showed no harm stemming from pornography as viewed by adults or minors in actual sex abuse cases.

Speakers discussed many examples of pedosexuals as healthy, normal and unfairly victimized by stigma and vitriol whipped up by the media and special interest groups. Examples were given of evidence regarding pedophiles that never forced children, and in some cases the evidence even pointed to them as being gentle and loving. At the same time, a researcher did cite "victims" who have been raped and that these perpetrators do indeed deserve punishment.

One young female speaker suggested that research has shown that pedosexuals might be helped by engaging in "sex play" using naked pictures of pseudo children. In some cases the therapy has been shown to be enhanced with props like bridal gowns, stockings, & etc. This Ph.D. social worker noted her objection, based on scientific evidence, to any repression toward the subjects.

B4U-ACT sees this conference as a way of fighting the stigmatization of attraction to children and the combination with, or confusion of pedophiles with "child molesters". Of course, "pedophile" has become cultural shorthand for "abuser" which, understandably, with the increasingly white hot emotionalism that has attached itself to this subject and increased exponentially over the last decade or two around it. Richard Kramer, director of B4U-AC, and other professionals state that such scientific wisdom is based on skewed data that looks only at offenders, and that many child molesters are not technically "pedophiles" (i.e., they offend because they are preditory and act out of opportunity, not sexual attachment).

There is a general consensus within the medical community that pedophilia is a sexual orientation and as such is unlikely to change, just as with homosexuality. Fred Berlin, director of the Sexual Behavior Consultation Unit at spam Hopkins, states that out of the pedosexuals that have acted, then afterward entered treatment, "...there are large numbers of people who experience these attractions and with proper help go on and don't continue to 'offend'. There is good evidence to show that that's the case."

Berlin says many psychiatrists & others are concerned that the term "has become a stigmatizing pejorative," a way of saying "that somebody is less than human." Pedosexuals are unlikely to get much sympathy from the general public for being stigmatized, but Berlin says it's in society's best interest to resist demonizing them. The idea is to try to get folks who want therapy to "come forward and get help..."

Few of us in the general public are capable of thinking about pedophiles, or hebephiles, in emotionless, scientific terms; but, luckily, we aren't the ones charged with treating them, or defining who "they" are.

OP here. When I was a kid, I went into 7-11 in Redmond, Wa. to buy a candy bar. Outside there were a dozen or so older ladies picketing the store because it sold Playboy and Penthouse. When I entered the store, I got a few snide remarks for crossing their "line". As I began to leave I was surrounded by these ladies and yelled at for patronizing the store. Without a word, I turned around, re-entered the store, walked to the counter and purchased Penthouse magazine. When the clerk asked if I wanted a bag, I said "no, thank you." If you think I caught hell before, you should have heard them when I left! When I was able to get a word in, I told them I purchased the magazine BECAUSE of them. If they hadn't bothered me I would've bought my candy bar and simply left. I explained, "you know what ladies? The barn door is open and the cow is gone. If this REALLY bothered you, why didn't you stop it when Playboy first came out 25 years ago? Where were you then? It's just too bad, but you're fighting a lost cause." You could have heard a pin drop when the realization finally fell upon them. And at only 16 or 17 I was amazed at my composure in this circumstance.

What's the point? Well my friends, it is this: Homosexuality, Sadomasicism, and other behaviors have been considered and listed by "authorities" as mental illness, as hebophilia and pedophilia are currently. Because of societal changes and increasing pressure, homosexuality and other activity has been declassified as such in many cultures. Once again, my friends, the barn door has been opened and the cow has left. Once social mores have changed & accepted a behavior, its only a matter of time, and dare I say a right, that other behaviors follow.

This is not to say there are no "illegal" homosexual activities. There are. Just as there are with hetrosexuality. And it does not mean that all hebophilia or pedosexuality would be "legal" either. It wouldn't be. But in a day in age where teens and even younger are educated about, and experiementing with sexuality, and in many cases know more about it then many adults, it's hard to believe that society won't evolve as it did with its views toward homosexuality, S&M, and other one time so-called aberrant behaviors.

I've posted this thread in a way that many people are seemingly unwilling, or likely unable to do when discussing this subject; in an unemotional fact-based way, with a view upon history and societal evolution. You may agree with much of this post or you may disagree, BUT be warned, if you post over emotional, out of control, and simply idiotic responses like, "KILL PEDOS!", or "I WANNA FUCK YOUR KID!", you will be considered by everyone else who reads and posts on this thread to be the intellectually inferior moron that you are, and simply laughed at.

(Mods: The posted picture is of a totally legal, over 18 actress by the name of Kristine DeBell, as posted for Playboy magazine. Please do not delete. Thank you.)

I want to fuck my mother-in-law. There isn't really a reason for this, since she's fifty years old, isn't all that attractive, and is kind of a bitch. I just want something different. I've been fucking the same woman, my wife, for over nine years, and it's pretty boring. The mother-in-law lives in our house, so she's accessible. She hasn't had sex with a man in probably over two years.

Problem is, she's something of a prude. I've dropped some hints about this to her, but either she's dense or is ignoring them. I bought her a dildo for her birthday back in April, then I took her to a porn shop to get a few movies to go with her new "boyfriend". I can count on both hands the number of times she's used it though, and she hasn't used it at all in the last three months or so.

Oh, that's the other part of my confession. I spy on her every night. Mostly with a mirror under her bedroom door. I've watched her masturbate with the dildo all but one of the times she's used it, and that was because she did it early in the day while I was asleep. She likes the door closed and near total dark in her room when she goes to bed, and she's a little hard of hearing, so I'm able to sneak in (sometimes while she's still awake) and watch her. I watched her masturbate by hand recently, laying on her bed, while I stood not four feet away, jerking off over her, and she didn't have a clue. Last night she rubbed one out with the door open, but the curtains open, so it was bright in there. I had to hide in the hall. She didn't see me. I touch her when I can, but she's pretty sensitive, and she moves around a lot, so that doesn't always work out.

So, any suggestions on how to convince a 50-year-old woman who was sexually repressed most of her life to have sex with me?

PS I will not post a picture of her or myself, for two reasons. One, neither of us are good-looking, and two, it would be pretty simple for even a half-ass internet detective to find out who we are.