Ladies, this is the place for your own special brand of confession. Did you sleep with your best friend's boyfriend? Did your Aunt Flo visit unexpectedly while you were wearing white pants? Did your boyfriend lose a condom inside you? Is there a burning sex question you'd like to ask that only a woman would understand? This is the place. The things you can confess here might fall into other sections, too - but here you have your own place to post. After all, this section is ..for Women Only.

Of Course I Liked It

Growing up I was exposed to sex by reading novels. First love affair novels and later the ones that my grandmother read. I read about passion. I dreamed about being that character in the novel, about being overwhelmed by the man in the novel. But my dreams never went physical, I didn't masturbate.

I finished my high school and went off to the local college for my degree in business and then went to work for the distribution center out by the interstate. I had outgrown my grandmother's novels and read more sophisticated stuff and kept company with other women. I didn't keep company with a man, not in high school, not in college and not after I went to work.

We talked a lot about things that are in women's lives, but we never talked about passion, or sex, or anything else. Although from small hints, or slips of the tongue, it was apparent to me that several of my women's friends put up with their husbands or their boyfriends. But never was the word passion used.

I was turning 35 and I was at that time the supervisor of my section. The women in the department took me to lunch and the talk was all about their kids and housework. We did not talk about work then. Not until I was riding back with one of my coworkers and she asked me if I knew about Devon. No, I told her, who is Devon? She stopped the car in a strip center, and she told me Devon had used her. I said what did she mean by 'used'. You know he jumped her. No I didn't know what she meant by him 'jumping' her. 'OK', she said, frustrated, he 'fucked' her. Why did I make her say that? It was bad enough that it happened, saying it was worse.

No he didn't 'r**e' her, he jumped her back in the warehouse. Got her over a box of product and he had his way with her. I wanted to know the details, like in the novels, the minute by minute details. I questioned her and she told me, even told me how he held her down and 'stuck his dick right in her'. Yes she was embarrassed, she had two kids (divorced). She was scared that she was pregnant.

I needed details, the nitty gritty details. What she felt when he had his 'way' with her, although i wanted her to use the word 'fucked' her. Tell me how it feels. I told her I had never had that happen. I didn't know, so educate me. What's it like, when a man jumps you. Between breaths and excuses she told me that it's not right, but sure it felt good. She hadn't had a man on her for a long time. It felt good to have a mean tear into her. She was sorry I had never experienced it.

She set me up with Devon. Set me up for him to go after me. It was that same Friday evening when we went out again for my birthday. Devon showed up. I recognized him but didn't know that was his name. Somehow I ended up sitting by Devon in the booth. Somehow Devon got his hand on my leg and wouldn't take his hand away. Somehow I was left alone with Devon in the booth at the end of the meal. He got his hand up between my legs and fingered me through my panties. When I twisted away from him, he got his hand up my dress and fingered my butt. He pulled me back by the hair, pulled me out of the booth and walked me out to his car.

Forcibly sitting me in the seat he pulled the seatbelt around me and kissed me square on the mouth while he squished my boob with the other hand. It's not r**e I told myself as he drove down the highway and then off the highway and down the feeder to this street and then off into a neighborhood I didn't know. It isn't r**e I told myself. It's passion.

When he dropped me off back at my apartment he kept my panties. A war souvenir.

The following day my work friend called me and asked me how it went. I gave her every little detail of how I remembered it. Was it worth it, she asked me. Did I like it?

I didn't answer, I took the roundabout way answering her, I never said I liked it. I remember it, every little detail of it. But Devon is her man now, so why even think about it.

  • The Size And The Grooming

    Maybe I’m weird but I prefer a 5 to 6 inch dick. anything bigger just is too much to take for me. I have a small vagina and mouth so anything bigger than 6 inches is just too much for me.

    And grooming wise. I prefer a man who shaves his pubes. I like the bald look and feel. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for since I hot my hair laser removed.

    I understand some think hairy is sexy but I don’t. My mouth is down there often because of my high sex drive so I like shaved.

    I'm Old Enough To Have And Take Care Of Babies But Not Be His Mrs

    I'm a nurse. My coworker married a doctor, hooray for her, she landed a doctor. He is 57, she is 26 and pregnant.

    I have a friend, from before, he is the one person I let into my personal space. He is older, by a generation. He has taken over, and I am his girlfriend. He is married. So I can not make any observations about her. Except to say I am going to get pregnant, because I want my children (yes I am having more than one) to have their father when they finish high school.

    As to him being married? I'm working on that part, I've asked him to talk to his wife about me and get her ok on me getting pregnant. It's a new world, where younger women are looking for a successful man who can support her and his children.

  • Led By The Hand And Finding Sex For The Sheer Pleasure

    I want to tell this about me. I've told it to a close friend and she finds it disturbing.

    I went to law school and worked for a Fortune 500. After fifteen years I changed jobs to be closer to my elderly parents. I was a virgin. I had not had sex of any kind, not man or woman. I didn't consider myself straight or lesbian. I had no feelings either way. I bathed quickly and didn't spend a lot of time with my body.

    A woman I worked with, same age as me at the time, 39. She told me that she did photography, of women for women. She let me know she was a lesbian and found the female form the only form worth worshipping and she wanted to photograph me. In the nude. I wasn't for it.

    The first photographs, all black and white, were dressed and taken in familiar places. She really did have a g*ft and I saw some of her nude photographs of other women. Nothing pornographic, just nude women. I asked her if she had a favorite and she showed me this young woman, not easy to tell but she was definitely a girl. She was kneeling nude, with a small flower in her hair and her hands open on her thighs. You couldn't see her sex, it was hidden between her legs, but definitely a female. Up top she was was small, mostly puffy nipples. She wore a smile. It was a very crafted photograph. I asked her to make me a blowup, 8X10, which I framed and hung in my bathroom.

    I saw that photograph every day when I was in there, before and after my shower. Those puffy nipples, and that small flower. Her becoming smile, and her sex tightly protected between her legs. I fell in love with the photograph the longer I owned it. I dreamt of that girl, no name, anonymous. I dreamt I pried her legs open. I masturbated, something I had never done before. I wanted to kiss that smile. To kiss those nipples.

    I told my work friend, the photographer. I was ready to have her photograph me naked. But on the condition, she didn't expose my sex. Just my breasts and my ass end. She agreed and we set up to photograph me in my home. One of the photographs is me nude in the bathtub, with my hands covering my sex, my breasts clearly visible, my nipples erect. And I was smiling. It is my favorite photograph of me naked.

    Although she respected not photographing my sex, I was naked and she insisted on grooming me, shaving me, and then kissing me. In a series of encounters she broke my inhibitions and drove me to orgasm. The very first time I had experienced one. She was by then all over me, she wanted me, to be with her, to have sex with her, to be her one and only girlfriend. And to photograph me, ever more erotic, exposing my sex for the viewer. A photograph of me on the bed on my back with my hand to one side, my open 'flower' in full view, and my eyes asking for her to kiss me.

    She invited a man she knew, an Architect, who was in our age group to fuck me, and photograph him on me. To photograph his erection in full throttle penetrating my vagina. I refused at first, but I submitted. The sex part, the penetration part, was totally foreign. The only thing that mattered was the photograph of him in me. The photograph captured him from the rear, his large erection, his balls and his asshole, and my legs open and his erection in me. No faces. I have that photographed framed in my bedroom.

    My activities continue with her, in a lesbian relationship. But from time to time we invite the Architect to do things with us. No photographs necessary, just to fuck the shit out of me.

    One Day Will Come When A Man's Shadow Hovers Over You

    When a dominant man has your number. I was cruising through life minding my own business when I met this man who had me in bed and I was his play toy. I did things that night I had never done, and thought I would never do, including anal intercourse. I was young but not innocent.

    I say this because I hear a lot of women tell me that they would never let a man run their lives. Well you are wrong about that, a man can and will run your life and you will go along with him. You just haven't met the man that has your number.

    Now, from my personal experience, once that man finds you, you will not only willingly follow, you will do everything possible to be the yin to his yang. You will open your legs for him, and not just for sex, for everything.

    You will have found your place. I did. And I am glad I did before I got to old to bend to his will. I found the man that I obey and the man that I look up to. My place is beside him, not in front and not behind him. I hold his hand when I cross the street, I wipe the nose of his children. I learned to cook, I relearned to keep house and I learned to 'husband' the resources he entrusts to me. I became a church woman again, with children to educate and to bring up. I was chosen to be a woman at the moment of conception. I have no desire to be the man in the equation.

  • Boudoir Photos

    I've always been a big girl and am very insecure about my size. A few years back, I decided to get some sexy boudoir photos taken for my late husband for his birthday. It was sort of a way for me to deal with my insecurity.

    It's been two years since my husband passed away and I was finally going through his dresser drawer a few weeks ago when I noticed the boudoir photos were missing. I decided to check my fifteen-year-old son's bedroom and found the photos beneath his mattress, along with a pair of my panties he had obviously stolen. The panties were all dry and crusty. It was clear that he had masturbated into them while staring at the photos.

    Rather than confront him about it, I decided to just put everything back where I had found it and not say a word. As weird as it may sound, I was not only flattered but a little turned on by the fact that my son was jerking off to my naughty photos. I don’t think I had ever felt that sexy in my entire life.

    Later that night as I lay there in bed, I found myself masturbating for the first time in a long time as I pictured my son down the hall lustfully jerking off to the sexy photos of his dear old mom in lingerie.

    This whole thing has boosted my self-esteem in ways I never would have imagined. I feel like a sexual being for the first time ever and have found myself masturbating every single night since.

    I Hate Sex Anymore But Love Sucking Dick

    I’ve been going through menopause stages and that has lead to me just disliking my husband’s dick in my vagina. Sucks for him yes but he’s very understanding. I do at least once a month let him fuck me but I’m dry anymore so lube is a must

    But oddly even thought the thought of sex just isn’t appealing right now I still really like to suck his dick.

    I started giving him daily bjs about 9 months ago now and he’s really enjoys it. He’s said he could live with just bjs if needed because in a selfish way he enjoys just getting off in my mouth and being able to go about his day without the mess of sex.

    So I let him choose when he wants sucked. Sometimes it’s in the morning before work and other times it’s before bed. On the weekends it could be at any hour of the day he chooses. We just keep it spontaneous

    I Wasn't Quite Swept Off My Feet, I Slipped On A Banana Peel

    I feel like I was a child bride. Certainly I wasn't ready, had no idea what I was getting into, and had no idea what I was supposed to do. I was 18, a college freshman, delusional about being free, I got screwed and got pregnant, and six weeks later I was married.

    My husband 'had to finish raising me'. He 'had to put up with me'. 'Had to teach me how to run a house and raise a child'. I'm sick and tired of hearing that. I was PREGNANT by a guy I didn't even know, and wham, I'm married. He wants, deserves, a wife who knows how to cook. He wants a wife who can manage the money. He wants a wife who can iron. And a wife who knows how to have babies. I could hardly wipe my ass. Sorry.

    I have learned how to cook, iron, shop, balance the bank statement, breast feed, wash clothes, and make him happy in bed. I had to grow up early, be a woman when I was a girl. I never had the college lifestyle, I was washing dishes. I am a damn good wife in record time.

    And, I will get pregnant again when this one is out of diapers. I'll be the youngest ever wife, mother and homemaker. And let me add this, he has it easy, he got a wife, I got a husband and a child. Big difference, if I had a wife I would be happy. How about it, get me a wife for me and I will stop complaining.

    I Worked For Him In A Subordinate Capacity

    Another boss subordinate sex encounter. I am the subordinate, female, not rich or hot, never married, younger by a generation. He's older, rich and famous, women, girls, and gays want to be close to him. Why me? Why did he pick me?

    He asked me out to lunch on his boat. Believe me I thought a sandwich and a coke, not a set table and a beautiful super hot waitress taking my order. He walked me out on deck to ask me if I minded that he liked me. He didn't want me to feel uncomfortable. Out there as the sun set he told me a story that cannot be made up, including where the scar on his back came from (an animal attack in Kenya).

    He trusted me, not like those other people, would I marry him? My mouth was dry, I stammered. I wasn't ready, thinking of being married. He presented a ring, unassuming, but preciously beautiful. Take it, it's yours, will you take me? I went home that night with the biggest decision of my life.

    Out of a sense of not wanting to hurt his feelings I accepted. I was married in a room with lawyers, no there wasn't a prenup, only papers and papers naming me his representative. We live in a nice house, hidden behind a tree lined hill, unseen from the highway. I don't work anymore, not at the company. I have a personal secretary, no not the hot waitress. There is a professional kitchen staff, and a personal driver. It's only behind locked doors in the bedroom wing that I have my privacy.

    And that girl, the hot one who serves the table on the boat on the harbor? He thinks she's a lesbian. I don't agree with him, she's just not interested in a man who could be her grandfather.

  • One Bad Night I Got Really Drunk And I Ended Up With My Daddy

    Following college I accepted a job with a stable company. I adapted quickly, made friends, and bought my first car. But my life took a turn when I drank too much at an after hours party. I was way over the limit. A manager who was there stepped in and confronted me, demanding I give him my keys. I became belligerent, shouted that he was kidnapping me, but I was dragged out of the bar and into his car. He made me tell him where I lived.

    Maybe the car moving, the windows closed, the alcohol I threw up, all over myself, the seat, the carpet. My head went crazy. When he got to my apartment he had to carry me. Once inside I lost control and shit all over myself. I ended up in the shower, dressed, with him holding me up so I wouldn't fall. I vomited again.

    He undressed me in the shower, until I was completely naked, got me out and wrapped in a towel and thrown on my bed. He took a couple of wet towels to clean up his car. When he returned to the room I had vomited again, all over the bed and the carpet. Back into the shower, ice cold water. He left me there sitting in the tub and brought in the sheets and tossed them in with me.

    I woke up in the tub, sicker than I had ever been, he slept on the sofa. I wasn't a coffee drinker, but I was that morning. I reflected that I was naked under the towel, nothing he hadn't already seen. Now came the lecture, father daughter lecture. Talk about a headache. It took me all day to sober up. And all the time he was with me. From then on I didn't go out with out telling him, where, when, who, and I checked in daily. I had a Daddy, and he wasn't happy with me.

    When the day came that I took my pillow to sleep with him, he gave me his back but let me stay in his bed. Weeks and weeks passed before he held me, before he got on me. Only then was I happy.

    He is still my Daddy, I live with him, sleep with him. I don't see anyone. I have friends at work, they nicknamed me Baby. I don't get upset anymore when they ask me if he let me go out with them. Let me borrow his car, buy an outfit. It's been a long time since I needed a lecture. I don't disappoint him, lie to him, go out without permission. I'm a good girl. A real good girl for her Daddy.