Adult Confessions

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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.

- Women Only -
Straight Female / 43

FOLLOW-UP To: Not Sure What I Can Or How To Handle This

After many replies both positive and negative I wanted to clarify some things.
First and foremost the young man did not r**e me. From his first advances to the final outcome I was a willingly participated.
He was a complete gentleman during the entire encounter right down to asking if it was ok to finish inside me which I emphatically gave him approval.
I have no regrets with my only concern being that I’m not on birth control and the real probability of getting pregnant should I continue to see him. The experience was very enjoyable and exciting not using protection with him so I have no doubt that would continue to be the case. Depending on the morning after pill is a risk because it’s not effective after ovulation.

ORIGINAL POST………
Not Sure What I Can Do Or How To Handle This

Over the summer my son’s college roommate visited us from out of state.
One morning my son was up early while his roommate was still sleeping so I asked him to run to the grocery store for me.
A few minutes after he left his roommate came down to the kitchen. We chatted for a few minutes and it was obvious he was flirting with me. I was confused how to react because I was actually attracted to him but he leaned over kissing me on the cheek. When I didn’t say anything he turn me kissing me on the mouth which quickly resulted in a more passionate kiss. The next thing I knew he lifted me up sitting me on the kitchen table pulled my skirt up and had sex with me.
As soon as he finished I ran to the bathroom and cleaned up. When I returned to the kitchen my son had gotten back so after that we never had time to talk and he went back home. I’m not on birth control but my period came the next morning after he came in me so I didn’t have to get a morning after pill.
Now I have an issue because he called earlier this week wanting to slip in town to see me again. When I told him we probably shouldn’t do that he threatened to tell my husband. I’m afraid if I continue to see him I’ll end up getting pregnant. My husband has had an operation that prevents us from having any more children so that would be a real problem. I’m not sure how to get out of the situation but will probably have to see him until I can figure something out.

3
# 82555 - by Katrina / September 18, 2025
    • - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 70

    Coming To Terms With Being A Young Woman

    I came of age during the women's liberation movement. I went to college and became an active member of the Women's Lib movement on campus. The guys stayed away from us and wouldn't have anything to do with us. A few guys, who did hang out with us were wimps and pussies. There wasn't any dick around, so we ate pussy. I think that's why so many of us were 'lesbians'.

    When you are part of the movement, then everyone is just like you. No makeup, no dresses. Proud to be the one changing the oil on the car, and mowing the lawn. No men around, you do the men things. Cooking was a chore that we split duties. And never would we be seen cradling a baby. Better off sucking pussy than sucking cock, that was pretty much our motto.

    My baptism of fire came during my junior year in college. Our roommate foursome decided to drive the three hours to attend a Women's Lib demonstration. Never had there been so many lesbians together. We thought we were 'butch', but butch was at the demonstration, women who weighed a ton, and painted beards on their faces. Scary butch bitches. We weren't in college any more, this was the real thing. That night, we all shared one room at the Ramada, I hugged my 'sister' and made love to her like I had never made love to her before. These were real lesbians.

    One thing was for sure, on the drive home we were quiet, our persona's had been tested and we weren't ready for the real world. I held my girlfriend's hand and caressed her. Was I going to be 'man' enough to take care of her. I was for the first time coming to terms that there were no balls, no dick there. I wept in the car. I had seen what we were supposed to become and I didn't like it. Our ideal was dancing lesbians in the Spring sunshine, not 200 pound bitches carrying Hammers and Cycles. The idea that one of those 'bitches' would come close to my girlfriend scared me. I shivered, and hugged her tighter.

    We were four girls who lived together, baby lesbian. No one said it, but we weren't cut out for that. We slowly dropped the Women's Lib flag and started wearing dresses. Whatever happened, I told my girlfriend that I was always going to take care of her. But we had to face a reality we weren't prepared for, one day we may have to suck cock, and let some guy fuck us. One day, we may have to do the cooking and cleaning. One day, we would have a baby cradled sucking on our titty. But we knew that we were never going to become those bitches.

    It so happened that a man along. Well, to me he was a man, he was a grad student in Engineering. He was unapologetically sexist. He wanted some girl to cook and clean for him, and I looked like I was about the right age for it. He didn't want a freshman, too girly. But a nice young women, now that would do nicely. He sat at the table, and I served him. He took me to him, and I opened my legs for him. He saw to it that I had resources to manage the place for him. I sucked cock, and he did the fucking.

    For the rest of my college days I lived with him and practiced my woman duties. It was three weeks before graduation and we had made love all night long. In three weeks we were being thrown out into the world. I went to him, and asked what was going to happen to us. He didn't have an answer. But he must have seen my worry, and promised that no matter what he would take care of me.

    Somehow we managed to survive the real world. He kept his promise and took care of me, helped me navigate the real world. One day he told me he wanted to get married. We could if we were ready, set ourselves up together, but the condition was that I had to agree to become pregnant.

    A long time ago, after that convention, I realized I needed a man to protect me. He kept his word, and now we live in Florida.

    1
    # 82550 - by I go by Annie / September 18, 2025
    - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 43

    Not Sure What I Can Do Or How To Handle This

    Over the summer my son’s college roommate visited us from out of state.
    One morning my son was up early while his roommate was still sleeping so I asked him to run to the grocery store for me.
    A few minutes after he left his roommate came down to the kitchen. We chatted for a few minutes and it was obvious he was flirting with me. I was confused how to react because I was actually attracted to him but he leaned over kissing me on the cheek. When I didn’t say anything he turn me kissing me on the mouth which quickly resulted in a more passionate kiss. The next thing I knew he lifted me up sitting me on the kitchen table pulled my skirt up and had sex with me.
    As soon as he finished I ran to the bathroom and cleaned up. When I returned to the kitchen my son had gotten back so after that we never had time to talk and he went back home. I’m not on birth control but my period came the next morning after he came in me so I didn’t have to get a morning after pill.
    Now I have an issue because he called earlier this week wanting to slip in town to see me again. When I told him we probably shouldn’t do that he threatened to tell my husband. I’m afraid if I continue to see him I’ll end up getting pregnant. My husband has had an operation that prevents us from having any more children so that would be a real problem. I’m not sure how to get out of the situation but will probably have to see him until I can figure something out.

    12
    # 82542 - by Katrina / September 17, 2025
    • - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 34

    The Fantasy Weekend In Las Vegas, With My Husband's Office 'girl'

    My husband and I were facing our 10th anniversary. He suggested that we take a trip to Las Vegas, and have a fantastic weekend. We left the kids with grandma and left on Friday. I had a show that I wanted to see and I made arrangements for two tickets. It was my surprise for his tenth anniversary. He bought first class tickets and as we were flying to Las Vegas he whispered in my ear that he had made arrangements for a fantasy weekend.

    Oh yeah, fantasy? What sort of fantasy? He said, wait and see. We were being joined by a beautiful woman. And he could watch us from the other room through the two way mirror. My reaction was that I was never under any circumstances doing anything with a whore, and he could go fuck himself. He said she wasn't a 'whore'. He had invited Elizabeth to join us. Elizabeth? That slut that he sleeps with from work? Bull Shit, not interested.

    We remained silent for a long time and when we were about to land he told me that Elizabeth was waiting for us and she had taken the fantasy suite at the XXX Resort, with mirrors on the ceiling, and a heart shaped bed and two way mirrors. And Elizabeth was excited to spend quality time with me, and show me that she was open to pleasing me. What could I say? except Fuck You Asshole!!!

    When we got to the resort, we were escorted to the fantasy suite and Elizabeth was waiting with Champagne and Chocolates. She was all over herself that I had agreed to come and that way we could be friends, and not enemies. After all we both had the same interest. I was surprised that she was dressed rather decently. He showed me to 'our' room, one room only, for us to share a supersized king bed in the shape of a heart with satin sheets and pillows, and a great big mirror on the ceiling. I told him, I'm not doing this.

    But the room was full of surprises, the bathroom had mirrors in front and back of you, so you could admire yourself on the toilet. There was swing where a woman sat with her legs open, so she could be pleasured, and cameras everywhere so the weekend would not be forgotten. Elizabeth took me aside and asked me if he had told me. I had to ask her, was she ok with this? Yes, doesn't it sound amazing.

    We went out to dinner at this very fancy restaurant, and Champagne and chocolate covered strawberries, and Beef Wellington, and our very own waiter, very handsome young man in too tight pants with an unmistakable bulge. I had to ask my husband if he was jealous. Elizabeth was chatty and she wanted to know how much I knew and when I told her 'no offense' but I had TWO tickets to the show on Saturday, she said OK but why wasn't he coming with us. What the hell was wrong with this girl?

    When we got back to the room, there were two packages, g*fts from the resort for the ladies. Crotchless edible panties. Fuck you a hundred times over. He said that I should reconsider. Fuck you again, and I stomped into the bathroom. I lowered the lid, and sat on the toilet and called my mother. "Do you know what this asshole wants me to do?" My mother, watching our kids, said the worst possible thing, "go with the flow, it sound exciting".

    While I was in the bathroom, Elizabeth changed in the bedroom, and I walked out to her in a rather obvious bedroom silk pajamas. I hadn't really appreciated her, I could see why he liked her. She took me into the room, and showed me my own silk pajamas, in the drawer. One of us in pink, and the other in purple. I told her loudly, I am not participating. What? She said, was I kidding? She was looking forward to us spending time together.

    I did not change into the pajamas. Out in the living room, were two small packages, wrapped in gold paper, with red ribbons. My husband had a Scotch in his hand and smiled like the Cheshire Cat. Open them, he said. Two sets of diamond studs, matching studs for his girls. And a note at the bottom. Enjoy wearing them tomorrow! A full day, no limit, fully reserved, day of shopping for his girls.

    He slept on the couch that night, and we slept in the heart shaped bed in the bedroom, in our satin pajamas. Two girls having a sleepover, each with her very own American Express Platinum, on her nightstand, just waiting beside her diamond studs.

    0
    # 82537 - by Casey / September 17, 2025
    - Women Only -
    Lesbian Female / 37

    I Find Myself In A Man's Embrace, Freely Delivered, His Knightingale

    I was a sophomore and she was a senior. I was completely inexperienced, she was spreading her wings as a dominant lesbian. It was a complete surrender, but I hated it. After that encounter I regressed into asexuality, and being a 'good' girl. I never dated in high school. I was an art nerd, and my dream was art school. My family could well afford it. I was accepted at MICA for the Fine Arts program.

    I met Roberta, an Art History major. Intellectual, smart, loving, affectionate, my missing link, I fell for her, hook, line and sinker. For the first time I was in love, and she fell just as hard for me. As baby lesbians we had to learn together. We fit, and slowly it became apparent, that my role was to be the 'dyke' in the relationship. I did not consider myself 'dyke', to me that was that girl who forced sex on me.

    We left college for lesbian and art Mecca, San Francisco. To the literal den of horror. The lesbian movement was ascending, taken over by over aggressive dykes, of the worst kind. In a few weeks we knew we didn't belong there. That was not us. But broke artist we had to fall back on family. Roberta spent the fall at home, and called to let me know she was getting married, to a high school friend. She was apologetic, she would learn to love him, and she wanted a chance at children. Heart broken, I prayed for her, and cried myself to sleep the day she got married.

    At home, broke, working part time for a home decor store, I met a man, one of those who lays down the law for you to obey, He gave me two options, get married and have children, or have children. Either way I was no longer single. The man was in the room and I wilted. I got married, Roberta assured me I would learn to love him, and hurry up and get pregnant.

    I believe strongly that women have a make up that responds to authority, dominant males. Love is a word, dependent another word, vulnerable to pregnancy and its lifelong commitment, a woman had better pair up with a male that not only wants her, he wants her with his children. That is how I've rationalized being married, with children.

    I don't like to go there, but a husband has to be 'as a father, and a wife as a daughter'. Why else do we so completely surrender? Is the poets refrain 'sweet surrender', that drives us women to a man's 'gilded cage', his 'Nightingale?'

    0
    # 82526 - by Stephany / September 17, 2025
    • - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 35

    A Neighbor Situation Drove Him To Look After Me

    This may trigger some people.

    I'm tall, blonde and blue eyed. I have a decent body. I worked in an HR capacity for a medium sized business. This happened to me back in 2016, at the time I was 26 years old and trying to make ends meet. I was working for a salary with benefits but I had to give my mother 800 a month for her rent. I had dated a bit, but between working two jobs before I got hired at the corporation, and living with my mother, I really didn't date. So, with my job that paid more, I moved out into a one bedroom in a not so nice complex.

    At the complex, down the hall from me, lived a couple of black guys. They kept hitting on me and asking me if I had a girlfriend I could bring to the party. I will say this up front, I had no interest in them. None. The idea of one of the fucking me scared the hell out of me. I was paranoid perhaps, but out of some need for reassurance I told my boss about them.

    He went all defensive. No N is going to touch you. Never let a N fuck you. You keep that pussy clean, never let a B dick in you. He was so over the top about it and I asked him if he was prohibiting me from seeing them. "Your damn right I am, you are reserved property". So with that I told them that I didn't have permission to date. It served my purpose.

    But he was already hot and bothered and decided that he wasn't going to leave me there, and he moved me out over the weekend. And set me up in his apartment. I went along completely, he was so focused on protecting me. I had a man now that looked after me, so I had to pay attention to him and keep my nose clean. I got some rules laid down about living with him, like I couldn't go out with out his permission, I had my duties in the kitchen and he wanted me to be the one that took care of the household. I didn't have a rent obligation, or utilities.

    The second night I was there he told me that it wasn't working for him, I was right there and he wanted me beside him. He gave me the choice of which side I would sleep on. And don't come to bed with anything on that he couldn't take off in an emergency. No panties was better. He had a lot of pent up desire and he didn't know when he would feel that he had evened up. So, no panties.

    No one had ever wanted me, much less gotten on top of me. He got a full measure and released all his manhood in me. By the end of the first week I didn't wear anything when I went to bed, what was the sense in wearing anything, he was going to tear if off anyway. I heard later from a good friend, I was having my honeymoon and didn't know it. He gave me complete license to take over all the household, which I wanted to do. I wanted to show him I was a good housewife, not only in bed with him, but taking care of the table and the vacuuming.

    I lasted six weeks before we eloped and I showed up at work with a ring on my finger. It had never crossed my mind really, but I was quick to get my name changed. I looked at him and he was my husband, and I was determined that when he looked at me he saw his housewife. By housewife, I didn't want to work at all, I wanted to stay home and be kept. Except that I had to come up with my mother's rent. That's the only reason I kept working.

    26 is not a bad age to start having children, I had baby fever come over me, and I made sure I could get pregnant. He was surprised, but not disappointed and he let me get pregnant a couple of more times. We moved out of the apartment after I had the first one, and by the time the lockdowns came we were living in a house with a front and back yard, and my mother moved in to help me.

    Of course the children are all out of preschool and my mother still lives with us, and he goes to work and I'm a stay at home housewife. He's happy, he is always happy, the noise of the children is music to his ears and he gets along with my mother (all the stress of money is gone away from her). I do wear panties to bed now, and let him take them off if he wants to, but I have them to put back on because the kids barge in in the morning.

    0
    # 82511 - by Ruth Anne / September 16, 2025
    - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 34

    I Think I'm Straight Now

    So I finished high school in 2010 and went to college. I was unattached and didn't know what I was looking for. At home I had a reputation for being bossy and hard headed, so my mother gave me a lecture about keeping my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. It's hard when you hear the ridiculous things people are saying. I slowly gravitated towards the LGBT side of things, with another freshman girl. We had our first experience with each other and thought we had fallen in love and we are all adult and everything.

    In the LGBT club we ran into professional activist and their message didn't sit with my experience, or my girlfriend's experience either. We both had loving and caring grandfathers and fathers who were always right, meant well and took care of us. It wasn't until we were in college that we started to run into the so called toxic males (most of which were gay). So, we just went off on our own to figure out what we were doing.

    By our junior year we were both worried about our future. We didn't want to be some poor social worker and lesbian. We didn't even want to be lesbian. But our inner self wouldn't let us have a relationship with a guy who would be serious. So we stayed together.

    In my senior year I met a guy who had done it all and been everywhere, and he was way more mature than any of the college kids. But he was proverbial male, a wife at home with seven kids and a puppy, washing clothes and dishes. He was vocal about it, 'you want to be a wife, better start cooking'. I did not realize he was talking directly at me. I didn't want to, and felt he was imposing his male authority on me, but he had me doing his laundry. And walking behind him, which made absolutely no sense to me.

    Why should he walk three steps a head and I follow like some Japanese Geisha. When we got towards the middle of my last semester he told me, marriage was only going to happen when i got it through my head that I was the cocksucker and he was the mother fucker. So get down on my hands and knees and crawl over to him to suck his cock, come on, show him I was wife material. I refused. Until I didn't and I crawled over to him and sucked his cock and he kissed me. He took me 'involuntarily', and he mother fucked me. Now I was marriage material, and he married me at the courthouse, two weeks before graduation.

    My parents were elated, I had finally come to my senses and married a man who could take care of me. Thanks for the vote of confidence. "Does he want children?" The question should have been addressed to me, "Did I want children?". It was no longer my decision, he was going to do whatever he wanted to do with me and like a Geisha I would walk behind him, pushing a baby carriage.

    I am pretty much housebroken. I don't work outside the home, I stay home to make and take care of children. He helps me, but he isn't going to do some things. He does not cook or do laundry, those are strictly for women. He doesn't breast feed either, that's on me too. But he brings home the bacon and we live better than my parents. He has his check deposited in the joint account and I spend the money. If he needs money, he asks me for it. He has credit cards, but he doesn't use them without clearing it with me. I'm the keeper of the keys and the checkbook.

    I do crawl to him to give him a blowjob, I do present myself for him to fuck me. Both are women's thing. I choose and buy his clothes and if I buy anything for myself or the children we model them for his approval. Same with haircuts and nail color. In our house, where I live, he's the man of the house, and I have the leash in my hand. I am very careful what I say or how I say it. I realized that day that I don't want to be told about him being the mother fucker. I know that, but I don't want to hear it.

    0
    # 82498 - by Rebecca / September 16, 2025
    - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 44

    It's A Myth In America That You Marry For Love, You Learn To Love Him

    My father emigrated to Detroit in the late sixties. I was born in the early eighties. He worked for GM as a metallurgical specialist. When I was fourteen my mother talked to me about someday finding a husband for me. I was fourteen, and that didn't sound too bad. I never expected it to be a real thing, I was seventeen, still in high school when my mother announced that a husband had been found for me. And I would make my first trip to India to get married, leaving the next weekend.

    I was a valuable commodity, I had a natural born US Passport. I met my husband's mother, but not my husband until the day of my wedding. Indian affairs are large and take several days. He was in costume and so was I, and I could not really figure out what he looked like. He was from Mumbai, proper. A software engineer, but he needed a visa to get to the States for a better job, paying real money. It was a matter of convenience, I would have a professional husband and he would have a nice Indian wife and a Green Card.

    I remember our first night together, back in Detroit. We were in a hotel room. I sat on the side of the bed, he sat in the only chair. We did not speak. He was tall, I'm short, but proportioned. After a long while he stood and said he was the husband and he expected a wife. I did not give myself to him, I did not go forward willingly. He had sex, if you call it that, enough anyway to get me pregnant. It was important for me to get pregnant, it verified the marriage.

    I still had a year of high school. I went to another school, one that allowed pregnant girls. I graduated with a two months baby, and I was pregnant again a month later. That's when I also found out that he asked for his parents, using my passport and his green card. And they would be living with us. Since my mother in law moved in with us I was able to attend college, while she baby sat. I got a degree in Nutrition. My husband got a job offer for an important company so we moved to Texas.

    He commuted and I stayed home. I had young children. I was by then a wife, you have to dance to the dance you are brought to. My parents would not take me back, I had been married off. Live with it. I have two daughters, neither one of them has agreed to be married to someone in India. It is a problem, they insist on finding their own husband, but they are not looking and they are already out of college. Several good husbands have come and gone to other girls.

    My husband is beyond angry with the situation. I feel that they need to have a strong hand put to them, he needs to enforce his authority with them. If they don't want to go home to India, then we will bring a husband to them. The Temple is full of young women who are twiddling their thumbs and not getting married. I do not want to be an old grandmother.

    0
    # 82404 - by L / September 13, 2025
    - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 43

    Only Ever A Mistress, Never A Wife

    I was always, and still am, impulsive. I got all in and get hurt because I over think and have unrealistic expectations. After college I got a job working for a large local company in out city. I met a guy through my cousin, but he was standoffish. It hurt, the rejection. At work I had made another mistake, I had discussed my personal feelings with the Vice President that I took the checks to for signature. He always reached out to touch me, and even if that bothered me, I guess I let him.

    I told him about this guy.

    It was a month later I had an envelope on my desk. In it was one picture. This guy was kissing with another guy in a car. I was devastated. I told this man at work and he told me that he had hired a detective to flesh out what was the deal with him. Not only is he gay, he was a male prostitute.

    I reacted, I let this man hold me, hold me in a loving and very manly embrace, up against him, pressed hard against his chest, and his hand under my bottom while he kissed me and I melted, letting him push my pants down and engaging me in intercourse in his office. I not only had my first experience with him, but it resulted in a pregnancy.

    I was out of my mind. I could not and would not entertain any thoughts about abortion. I wasn't raised that way. My mother told me I was old enough, 23, and I could have and take care of a baby. What I needed to do was get his financial support. Not only did I have that baby, he had me pregnant again three more times, and I have four children by him. I live with my mother. He gives me money, that's not a problem.

    I'm 43 now so two of the children are already in college and another one goes next year. He still has sex with me, often, at my mother's house. He likes to hold me very tight and always seems to want to get his hand under my bottom to kiss me. I made up my mind, I would never again have sex other than on my matrimonial bed. But I'm the mistress, so it's not a matrimonial bed. But I do only have sex on the bed and I am strictly missionary, I don't do any of that other sex play. I still to this day, after twenty years, feel cheated out of marriage.

    0
    # 82401 - by Vivian / September 13, 2025
    • - Women Only -
    Straight Female / 30

    I Can't Shake Being A Little Girl With My Husband

    I was an incoming freshman in college and I met this guy the first week I was there. He was older, a grad student, but he was nice and told me about the school, places to go and everything. He showed me around, and took me to eat at this off campus place. He took me to his apartment, and I lost my virginity. A part of me I didn't know about came out and I became clingy, so clingy. I was so embarrassed, but I couldn't control it. I also became his college girlfriend, mostly living with him, and doing all the girlfriend things. And sex, we had sex all the time.

    He was a guy who could talk to anyone, and I got jealous. Hanging onto his hand like a five year old. I let him dress me. Like a five year old. I let him bathe me, like a five year old. I called him Papa, like a five year old. He said it was ok if it made me feel good. Well it felt good and I continued with it. It didn't go unnoticed either. Not from his friends, or from my roommate and the new friends I was making. I said it was like having a big brother.

    I wasn't five, I was eighteen and I was well proportioned. I was 'all woman', only my behavior wasn't. Around others I was mature for my age, and I became the RA at my dorm for my sophomore year. But Papa came, and I melted, and with a silly grin on my face, I held onto him. I don't know how many times he had sex with me, a whole lot because all he had to do was put his hand on my chest and hold me down, and my legs sprung apart. I fully admit it, I liked him having sex with me, and twice was better than once. I liked being all naked, and holding my arm round his neck asking him 'Papa do you love me'. 'Of course, dear, Papa loves you'.

    I went to grad school, after we got married. He was working so I had only school and the house to worry about. I was twenty three years old and I hung on him, like a five year old. If I wasn't hanging on his arm, I was leaning against him. I slept in a twister around him, I ran to him, when I saw him. I was aware of what I was doing, but unable to control it. "Papa, Papa" I yelled and ran into his arms.

    Well now he is a real Papa with two kids and we all call him Papa. I'm too heavy for him to toss into the air, because that's what he does with his daughter. But if he could, he would, and I would squeal like my daughter.

    1
    # 82342 - by Angie / September 11, 2025
    500 of 75,765 Confessions Displayed.

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