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2020.05.12 04:26 throwawayaracehorse Topless mature moms

The following contains a transcript from a short radio broadcast that has been picked up by various listeners across the continental United States. Many have been perplexed by its sudden appearance and how it seems to preempt whatever song or radio program they are listening to at the time. It has even been known to appear on streaming programs such as podcasts or Spotify. Listeners have described hearing different episodes and there have been many different situations and incidents.
They contact me with their stories.
I received a call from a real estate investor from the greater Los Angeles area. His name was Ethan Finley and he had heard “The Rules of the Road” broadcast while stuck in traffic. Due to the sprawling layout of Los Angeles and its reliance on car culture, his odds of experiencing an opportunity to follow the provided rule were higher than most, especially after hearing the broadcast. Perhaps he would’ve been better off in New York City.
This is his story.
I love my Porsche.
I know it’s such a cliche: the hotshot real estate guy from Los Angeles, wearing his sunglasses and whipping his little red sports car into the parking spot— even better if it’s a parallel job—and jumping out to make a deal. I get that. I see the looks on their faces. I know what they’re thinking. It's not like I'm totally oblivious.
They’re thinking, this uppity douchebag. This total freakin’ tool in his Armani suit and his sunglasses and his Porsche. I can just see the slime glistening on him all the way from over here.
But then they see the smile. They feel the handshake. The warmth. The sincerity. They think about how I’m going to make them some money and then they’re all mine.
Why start at a disadvantage though? Couldn’t I come off as more trustworthy from the get-go if I wasn't pulling up in the flashy little car? Maybe so. But then I wouldn’t be getting to drive a Porsche around—which let me tell you bro—is a reward in and of itself. When you’re whipping in and out of traffic on the 405, sliding in and out of impossible spaces, leaving everyone else to choke on your dust, you could give two shits about looking like a walking and talking cliche.
I started out flipping residential properties. That’s where I learned that I had the knack for this sort of thing. After a run of success with that, I transitioned into real estate development. Had some big wins right from the get-go with some properties turned into offices for a few tech firms.
So yeah, I’m a developer. I like to think of it as speculations with a long view. I’m the guy who can turn blank into bank. Just give me the eyes. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of consulting work with some firms out of China. They want my input on what they should buy and need help getting through the red tape. They pay handsomely.
You’d be surprised by how much American real estate is owned by China and other foreign investors. Meanwhile, there’s people that can’t afford their rent and a homelessness crisis going on, rows of tents along the streets and parking lots full of people living out of their cars. Yet the rules allow for it and somebody keeps buying these places, so I keep making money. I can’t help it if I’m lucky.
Other folks, maybe not so much. I don’t look inward much, I never had the need. But after all this started, I can’t help but wonder if this whole thing is a sort of payback for the part I’ve played in the gentrification of the city. With the cheaper housing that was knocked down to make way for expensive new condos and businesses, how many people had my deals displaced? How much history and character had I incidentally destroyed?
At the time I had considered it progress and justified it by a steadfast belief in the rule that everything changes and nothing can stay the same.
In this city, it’s all about who you know. It’s this whole culture of, “what can you do for me?” People know this, absorb this, embrace this. Luckily, I’m at the point where I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Everyone else, they’re the ones coming to me. They come with their hands out and their smiles and their attentive ears, hanging onto my every word. They wouldn’t want to miss a crucial detail to pull out so they can impress me.
The other thing about this city, is that everyone’s coming out here to make it big. Whether it’s show biz or something else, there is constantly a new influx of people. These new people, they recognize me as one of the gatekeepers, they can see it on me and when I go out they want to get to know me. There is no shortage of places for me to go and meet up with these new arrivals: cocktail mixers and parties and premieres; I rub elbows with a lot of show business types.
Basically, what I’m trying to get at, is that I get lots of pussy and lots of different pussy. It’s a constant rotation of the new and there has been no signs of it slowing down. Even as I’ve gotten older and a little bit grayer, I’m still pulling down gals the same age as when I was younger.
We have fun. They know the name of the game and I’d say they get their money’s worth. We have a whirlwind romance for a couple of weeks: courtside Lakers tickets, movie premieres, weekends at Catalina, the occasional private jet trip. But that’s about all I can stand. I can’t sit still for too long with the same girl. I’ve been divorced once and it took me years to get built back up to where I was. I’m not going to fall for that again.
I’m not trying to brag in regards to my love life or my cool car or anything like that. Like I said, I’m acutely aware of how all of this looks, especially now. I just wanted to paint the picture of what my life was like before I heard that cursed radio broadcast. I was on top of the world. Not the King of LA, but maybe like an Earl or a Duke. Something like that.
And then I found out about Buck Hensley.
It was a bitch of a traffic jam on the 405. My Waze said there was a ten car pile up five miles ahead. The exits were all congested. It was start, stop, start, stop. Rinse, repeat. The sun was beating down and the glares of light off of the other cars was cutting through my sunglasses. I had a property to look at in Venice, the next up and coming place. I was going to be late and the double espresso I’d had earlier that morning was hitting me weird, making me frustrated and antsy.
I was stuck behind a semi trailer with dirty doors and I was tired of listening to my podcast and was about to flick it off when out of nowhere, Joe Rogan said over my speakers:
“Hey Jamie, pull up the video of this guy, Ethan Finley. He’s a real estate developer and he’s currently stuck in traffic. Yup. A Porsche Cayman. Ooh, he’s got the Amaranth red. That’s a sweet fucking car.”
A chill went from the base of my neck to the small of my back and I got goosebumps. I looked around frantically. Life was going on in the cars around me. People stared at the road or at their phones. A girl picked her nose surreptitiously. No one was looking at me or filming me.
I rolled down the window and looked up at the sky. A helicopter perhaps? Nothing.
“Remember when his dad used to get drunk in the evenings? Hell, he’d come home already half sauced, drink a little more, yell at the wife, slap Ethan in the head a little, and fall asleep in the recliner. There was this one episode I saw where Ethan tried to stand up to him. He should’ve waited until he was a little bigger. Pull that up. Watch this. So dad’s passed out in the recliner. Ethan comes up behind him, goes for the rear naked choke, and BOOM! Dad body slams him. Look at that, see how his head dents the sheetrock?”
“SHUT UP!” I yelled, looking around frantically.
My heart was pounding. Tears had welled up at the corners of my eyes. I could vividly remember the scene that had just been described, all of those years of hell with my dad growing up. It was as if they were somehow watching a video of it and commentating on it.
I stopped the podcast on my phone, but there was still sound coming out of the speakers, a bunch of chimpanzees screaming. It got louder and louder and louder and stayed even when I turned the volume down and kicked the stereo. There was a burst of static and he began to talk.

“Howdy folks. How ya’ll doing on this bright and sunny morning? Does it feel like you're rooted in place? Stuck at a standstill? Like your feet are in concrete and it’s about to dry? Well unless you’re a movie star down at The Chinese Theatre, you best be keeping your appendages out of the wet cement.
Whenever I find myself at a place like this, when time is standing still and all forward momentum has ceased, I just use that stillness to take a moment of quiet reflection. I reflect back on all the things I’ve done and all the things that I’ve undone. Could I undo the things I’ve done or redo the things I’ve undone? Or was I stuck doing those things at every point and time? I know I don’t do things like I used to did, but I still undo things like I did before I stopped doing the things the way I did. What is it that you do the way you did? Or do you not do that anymore?
I was breathing heavily and I was still stuck in place, cornered on all sides by traffic. I wanted to just jump out of my car and run, leave it abandoned here on the interstate, keys in it and everything. Let someone else take this cursed thing and its speakers playing this demonic drivel.
I felt frozen in place though, dozens of suppressed memories of my father surfacing up from some tucked away corner of my brain.
Anyhow, where was I? Ah yes, I was talking about the importance of standing still on this special early morning edition of “The Rules of the Road”. Them good ol’ boys down south knew the importance of stopping and smelling the roses. They knew you had to slow down every once in a while and take your time. That’s why they never got in a hurry with the song “Free Bird”. You know it’s a very long song.
Why yes, I am talking about the Southern rock band Lynyrd Skynyrd. Good bunch of guys. They give me a personal show every now and then and haven’t missed a beat (even though the fella in charge of refueling their plane did). That’s where today’s “Rule of the Road” comes in. If at any point during your journey, you hear the song “Free Bird”, you must listen to it in its entirety. It is imperative that you do so—the whole thing—I’m talking guitar solo and outro and everything until fade out.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Buck, I’m a very busy man and my schedule is packed and I mean packed to the gills. I gotta work my 9-5, but before that I gotta get up at 6 in the morning so I can practice my Bulgarian throat singing and milk the goats and then I have to get my case assignment finished in time so Jenkins doesn’t jump all over my hiney, the little twerp. After working my fingers to blood and pulp at the grindstone, I gotta take little Timmy to soccer practice and then have dinner with the family and then massage the little miss’s footsies. My how those things have looked gnarly lately, and I mean rougher than sandpaper, but I don’t know how to tell her. And then I gotta hit the hay, out like a light, only to wake up and do it all over again. I don’t have time to listen to no song that has a three minute guitar solo. Time is money and three minutes might as well be a thousand smackers.”
And to that I say, “Fair enough.” If you don’t have time to finish “Free Bird”, then you won’t have time to finish anything else. You’ll never finish another deal again. Ignore this rule at your own peril.
Welp, that’s all I got for this morning. I hope the coffee is hitting you just right and the sun is shining bright and that California dreaming doesn’t turn into any sort of California nightmare. Ya’ll have a good one now. Stay safe. Stay lively. Stay lonely. I’m Buck Hensley, and these are “The Rules of the Road.”
The stereo shut off and silence filled my car, soon to be followed by honking from behind me. I found that I had been staring at the passenger seat floorboards and when I looked up the traffic before me was moving steadily.
I took the next exit and called to cancel my appointment, went home and took a valium and nursed gin and tonics until I passed out.
Life carried on the next few weeks without a hitch. I was consumed with work and that was able to keep me distracted for the most part.
I called my mom. It had been months. The weird stuff had brought her to my mind. She had landed well after the death of my dead, had remarried and was retired and living her best life with my stepdad in Florida.
I checked the Joe Rogan Podcast episode list and didn’t see anything untoward. I thought about listening to the most recent episode again to see if he said anything about me, but when I heard his voice I got sick to my stomach.
I got to thinking about what I had heard that day in the car and chalked it up to suppressed memories from the unresolved trauma from my childhood.
I asked some of my friends and colleagues who their go-to shrinks were and got a laundry list of names and recommendations, doctors who would prescribe the best drugs, spiritual gurus who would align my chakras, marijuana dispensaries that sold healing strains, and a gal in West Hollywood who could perform what was known as a "trauma colonic".
The weeks passed without incident. I buried myself in work. I made conference calls, attended business lunches, scoped out properties, and sealed a few deals.
Maybe this was all a midlife crisis, a sort of sign that I should reassess my place in the universe and how I was living. How long could I go on like this, making money hand over fist, a new girl every few weeks? Wasn't there a sort of emptiness to it all?
These thoughts usually evaporated pretty easily when I hugged the curves of Mulholland in my beloved Porsche. Nothing like the force of 350 horsepower to throw you back into your seat and erase all your self doubt.
So, in lieu of a trauma colonic or talking about my childhood to some stranger, I got in my Porsche and took off. The windows were down and the air was clear. I drove past rows of palms and strip malls and parking lots and little Mexican grocery stores and fast food restaurants and homeless encampments, all the while keeping my eye out for places that would appreciate in value over time, the next big thing.
I took Fairfax north and turned west on Hollywood, heading towards Laurel Canyon. Laurel Canyon with its winding roads and seclusion and where hippies once lived and partied and recorded some fine music. Now it was full of million dollar homes, all thanks to the likes of people like yours truly.
I was feeling good and I absentmindedly turned the satellite radio on. It had been a while since I drove out this way and I wanted to match the scene with that 70s Laurel Canyon sound. That’s when I heard it, that familiar opening.
It starts with a Hammond B3 organ, these pleasant sounding drones. Then the drums kick in and shortly after the slide guitar comes roaring out in front of the mix playing that telltale riff. This is followed shortly by the opening lines, “If I leave here tomorrow…”
I mean, we all know the song, and if you don’t, then I suppose I envy you for getting to experience this American masterpiece for the first time with fresh ears. It’s been overplayed for the rest of us.
I instantly thought of “The Rules of the Road” when I heard it coming on and I cranked up the volume. It had been a long time since I had paid attention and actually listened to the song in its entirety. I vowed to finish the whole thing. What did I have to lose?
For the briefest instant, I closed my eyes during the guitar solo and played a little air guitar on my steering wheel. Eyes open or not, it wouldn’t have changed what happened next. It would have only allowed me an extra nanosecond to flinch at the inevitable collision with the truck that had pulled out in front of me as I topped the hill.
The Porsche was totaled and I was rattled and whiplashed, but not severely injured. I took a few days off to rest and recover and allow my black eye and swollen face to look more presentable. A contract I was close to closing on got Hoovered up by a competing firm with a better offer. Even though I would spend the next couple months trying to work and function and get back to the peak of what I was, that was the closest I would ever get to finishing a deal again.
There was something different about her. She wasn’t a model or an aspiring actress. She had already made it, was a producer for Universal Studios. In a way, she was into speculations like me, weighing risks and rewards for the maximum payoff for the studios. She was responsible for finding the right projects for the studio, turning blank into bank.
We hit it off and it was clear from the start that this was going to be different than any of my other more recent flings. We took things slowly and that was fine with me. I enjoyed her company and actually having conversations and dinner and drinks with her. It was fun to let the sexual tension just build for once, send each other flirtatious texts throughout the day. I had missed this kind of relationship, one that was more than sex.
Everything built to a crescendo after a dinner at Spago (which in hindsight, I didn’t finish) and winding up back at her place. The little black dress she wore, the straps over her shoulders, the kissing in the foyer, the curve of her calf as she bent her leg and pulled her heels off, our clothes littering the hallway to her bedroom. There we were, on her bed and she was topless and on her knees while I lied back and admired her. The way her hair cascaded over her breasts, her hips flaring out like the bottom of a vase, her thighs touching and the line between them leading to the V of her mound. I was raring to go and her visage in the lamplight was like nothing I had ever seen.
She reached towards me and I blasted all over the inside of my boxers, trying to hide the spasms and contractions of my body during my severely premature orgasm. The bewildered look on her face slowly giving way to disappointment is one I can still see to this very day, even after everything I’ve gone through.
Being a little older and more mature, she was understanding. I only had to swallow my pride and know what she was really thinking of, despite her reassurances. I still feared that I was going to be a story she would tell the gals over lunch—the rich hot shot real estate guy with premature ejaculation issues—but she gave me more chances.
We continued to date and the next attempt was the complete opposite of my problem before. Pounding and pounding into her, I just could not finish. My dick felt like it was a million miles away. Numb or something, like it was somebody else’s. I ended up pretending I had orgasmed into the condom I wore and snuck off into the bathroom to douse my junk under cold water.
Sure she came during this session, but it only served to buy me a little more time with regards to our relationship as the next few times we attempted sex were complete busts. I was limp dicked and unable to perform, a problem I had never had before. She began to pull away from what had been a blossoming little relationship, slowly and surely. She texted less and less and eventually quit responding, what the kids nowadays call ghosting.
I felt the closest thing to heartbreak that I had experienced in many years. It was raw and painful and I realized that not only did I not ever finish having sex with her, I never felt the closure of something like a breakup. The relationship itself never felt finished, man.
As failures and falling outs began to mount at work, I began to notice other things. I seldom finished meals. At my favorite lounge, I left drinks half empty on the bar after I had ordered them. I couldn’t finish a movie or TV show. Even if I vowed that I would concentrate and see it until the end (which most times I ended up failing on anyways), some outside force would cause it to stop prematurely.
For instance, I went out with some colleagues to a premiere and there was a power outage at the theater and they issued us rain checks. I went to see one of my favorite bands live at The Troubadour and a freaking fire broke out in the middle of the opening number.
With each passing day it seems to be getting worse. I find myself unable to finish sentences. Conversations lull into an awkward standstill as I zone out.
“Ethan? Ethan, are you with us?” they ask.
“Oh,” I say.
“Sorry,” I say. “What was that?”
Forget finishing a book. I can’t even finish an e-mail or a memo. I try to dial numbers and have to be sure and take a break halfway through.
I can’t finish my order at the coffee shop or the restaurants. I carry a handwritten note for instances such as these and go to the same few places.
Oh sure, I can finish some things every now and then, but it’s almost like it’s just enough for basic function, just enough to piss you off. I’m surviving and all, but I wouldn’t call it living.
I mean, every time I take a shit, I feel like I don’t get it all out.
I haven’t replaced the Porsche. All the insurance paperwork after the accident, everything you need to do in order to buy a new car, I just haven’t been able to finish it. I’ve hired a personal assistant and we’re going to start chipping away at some of this stuff.
Sometimes I just can’t believe it. I’m forty years old and already an invalid, basically requiring personal care like I’ve got dementia or something. I can no longer do what I was put here on this earth to do you see? Sometimes I feel like this curse or whatever would’ve affected my body’s vital processes and allowed me to just die, unable to take a full breath or pump a complete heart chamber of blood.
I’ve started and stopped this story so many times. In fact, I’m not even on the phone with you right now. This is a recording that I’ve been working on piece by piece for three goddam weeks. I’ve no doubt left the room by now, off to start some activity that I won’t complete or even hope to finish.
So yeah, I’ve just come back to record this last part and you’re gonna have to hang up at this point and give me a call back. Oh, there was one other thing I was going to…..
From there the recording stopped and began to play again from the beginning. I hung up the phone and called Ethan back. There was no answer. I called back several times to no avail, found his information on LinkedIn and tried to contact him through there with no success. It was several days before I heard anything.
I received a call from a personal assistant. She had found my number amongst some of Ethan’s personal effects with the instructions to call me if anything had happened and something had happened.
Ethan had attempted suicide.
He had put a revolver to his temple and pulled the trigger. A utility worker had been in the area at the time and had heard the gunshot and called the police. They managed to get him to the hospital in time, where he was now on life support.
Even in suicide, he had been unable to complete the deed.
They had managed to extubate him and he was breathing on his own, but he was unresponsive to any stimuli.
There he was in that hospital bed, lying in a persistent vegetative state from a death he couldn’t achieve, dreaming dreams he would never finish.
submitted by throwawayaracehorse to nosleep [link] [comments]

2020.01.16 00:34 I-Technically-can Mature moms topless

Obligatory this happened a couple years ago, convos won't be 100% exact, ect.
The EP in this story isn't exactly someone I know IRL but rather an online friend I met through Farmville back in its hayday/heyday (?) We had been facebook friends for 8 or 9 years at this point, we've watched each others daughters grow, shared struggles, interacted almost daily on facebook and what not. Online friends can be just as important and valid as irl friends and don't let any one tell you different. Anyhow, I am a proud geek, video games, casual gonline games, comics, super heros, scifi, anime, ect I'm in, lets watch and geek out!
We'll call the EP in this story Karen, because why not at this point?
A bit of backstory on Karen, some time over the years due to health and/or mental issues Karen lost custody of her daughter to her mother and sister. I spent time private messaging Karen supporting her, talking her through particularly bad days, giving her advice on where to get free legal advice, ect. While she wasn't my best friend by any means she was still a friend. Well, one day she posts a rant on FB about how she had called her daughter and was shocked to find out that the daughter was reading "Ouran Highschool Host Club" in her schools anime club. She just couldn't believe that the school would allow such "racy adult" material! Her kid is only 12! She's appalled that her daughter said "relax mom at least it's not hentai!" There was more to the rant, but those were the main points. I'm pretty sure I stared bewildered at my tablet for a good five minutes before shaking my head like an etch-a-sketch to clear the nonsense before responding. Ouran happens to be one of my favorite manga/anime ever. I've read and/or watched several times, though I will say I prefer the dub on this anime.
The thing about Ouran is our main girl Haruhi is pretending to be a boy, well, that's not 100% right, she's roped into joining the host club and acting as a male host to pay the club back for breaking a vase. It's basically a reverse harem, the show is self aware and hilariously calls it's self out in one ep. The other thing is the fan service is more or less non existent, the mandatory beach epusode? Haruhi is in board shorts and a baggy shirt. I think the biggest "racy" scenes are just various ones of the actual boys topless and maybe a scene where Kyoya is trying to intimidate Haruhi into understanding that as a girl she shouldn't try and fight off a group of boys. He's topless, just out of the shower and pushes her down on a bed, but like thats it, there's no near kiss, no weird sexual tension, nothing, because Haruhi knows what Kyoya is up to. Like that's the extent of anything even remotely objectionable. I explain this to Karen, she promptly loses her mind. I don't know what I'm talking about, I clearly havent watched/read Ouran and must have just googled the info, she'll just have to waste money she doesn't have and order both the manga and anime and judge for herself.
I explain that as this is one of my favorites I do know, and there's no reason for her to waste money. I know she has netflix, and at the time the show was on that service. I also link her to a manga reading site that has the entire manga online for free. She has instant free access to check out the harmless series, she's still just 10000% caught up on the word hentai, so she throws this at me. "Of course it's going to look harmless on that site, the official english translation would be softened up for western audiences, I can't believe you're too dumb to know that."
Really? This is what we're doing now? I explain that, no, the site I linked is not official, if anything, since it's fan scanned/translated it would be closer to the source than the official companies english translation, it may be a little mature for a 12 year old but theres nothing objectional at all. I assure her its okay for her daughter to read.. she loses her mind. "Dont tell me how to raise my daughter, don't you dare defend this filthy hentai, don't you dare comment on this again. I'm her mother and I say its disgusting and you clearly don't know a thing about this subject."
I decide, ya know what? I'm about to maliciously comply. "Well, Karen, if that's how you are going to treat me and disregard my knowledge on the series and our time as friends, well that won't be a problem. I will never help you again, in fact, after this post I'm unfriending and blocking you, so, you wont ever hear from this dummy again." I did exactly that, I was curious a few days later and looked up her profile and whattaya know, there was a "poor me" post about an online friend cutting off contact for no reason, enjoy your solitude Karen.
submitted by I-Technically-can to DailyDoseOfReddit [link] [comments]

2019.08.16 02:24 3dshit Mature moms topless

I am a 30 year old man and I am addicted to porn.
First off, thank you to this community because I don't think i would want to or even know how to share this with anyone I know.
I set out to write a short hello to the group and a couple thousand words later I realized porn has been an issue in my life much longer and much more extensively than I have realized. This is my story:
I first discovered porn when I was 7 or 8. I was playing with my friends at his house and we stumbled on a big stack of his dad's magazines in the back of a utility room in his basement. It was Penthouse, not classy or subtle by any means. I didn't know what I was looking at. I had never seen a vagina before and thought the women were injured at first. I don't remember many things from my childhood as vividly as I remember the smell of that utility room and the nauseating sensation of mixed signals from my pre-puberty brain. We spent about half an hour in there looking through the magazines, and the more we looked, the more I wanted to keep looking. I was too young to even be turned on, I just remember liking it and being drawn to it. The next day, we went back and took shifts looking again while someone kept a lookout for my friend's parents. By the end of the weekend, those aggressively hardcore images were cemented in my mind. At the time, we weren't masturbating to them, I just liked how they made my heart race and I think i was drawn by the taboo factor. Beyond that weekend, the other friends I was with appeared to forget about it, but it stayed with me. I scheduled hang outs and a couple sleepovers just to be able to sneak back to that utility closet for another glance. I am ashamed to say I did not really like the kid, but I continued to hang out with him to get to his dad's porn. Eventually the kid caught on, and it came to a head one afternoon when I was little too insistent that we hang out in his basement for no good reason and then spent an abnormal amount of time in the bathroom.
When I was around 10 years old, I was allowed to stay at home by myself during the day while my mom ran errands. We had a family Macintosh computer with dial-up internet. Google was brand new, hell – the internet was brand new, so there was no thought of firewalls or ‘child protection.’ I remember searching using the only dirty words I knew – “Playboy,” “naked,” “boobs” – with mixed results. But Google didn’t fail me, and I quickly picked up more pointed lingo like “pussy,” “tits,” “slut,” …and “porn.” These naturally opened a plethora of web pages and so many pop ups I completely froze the computer several times. At that point, ‘free porn,’ and the likes of Pornhub and video streaming didn’t really exist. Most sites just gave you a teasing preview of what was waiting behind a log in. I was itching to see the content and when it asked for a credit card number, I simply went into my mom’s purse one day and input the numbers. Again, I was about 10 years old and I only had a loose concept of money and how credit cards worked. I remember being upset because it didn’t seem to work. I entered several different cards on several different websites, but I could never get fully logged in to see what I was promised. I got frustrated, put the cards back, and forgot about it.
Roughly 2-3 months later I was confronted by my mother. She had been convinced she was a victim of credit card theft, only to be horrified by looking back at the internet history logs (which I didn’t even know were a thing at the time). I’m sure there’s a lot that happened I don’t know about because I was so young and it’s not talked about anymore, but I do know that the sites I was on were mostly spam sites and she spent a unforgivable amount of time on the phone with collection companies trying to cancel subscriptions, get any of the money she could back, and clear up her credit profile. I was told when I was older that she was still dealing with lose ends and miscellaneous charges 2-3 years after the fact. I am forever thankful they handled the situation as calmly and maturely as they did. My parents were divorced at this point, which meant that I had a separate sit-down talk with each parent and subsequent step-parent about why porn was bad because of how it depicted women as objects and betraying trust with my family, etc. I was mortified, ashamed, and embarrassed. They weren’t as upset with me as they were disappointed. In addition to losing internet privileges for 2 years, my parents quickly discovered firewalls after that and internet porn was off the table for several years.
But I was still young, sneaky, and persistent and found other means. In my pre-teen and early teen years I started hoarding discarded Victoria’s Secret catalogues. My dad was a big fan of Barnes and Noble and I found that certain car magazines looked normal on the outside but actually had topless and mostly naked babes posing with the cars. I discretely would sneak them into the bathroom and either masturbate right there or “cough” and rip out the page and stuff it down my pants to save for when I got home. I eventually accumulated a stash of rip-outs that could fill a gallon sized Ziplock. I knew at the time that what I was doing was wrong from every angle. I knew that there would be severe consequences if I was caught, but I did it anyway. I’ve told myself in the past it was because I liked the thrill of getting away with it. I’ve told myself in the past what I did was normal teenage behavior. I recognize as I write this it’s because I am an addict. I always wanted more, there was never a moment where I thought “I have all the content I’ll ever need to masturbate.” This ‘collection’ mentality has never gone away.
By middle school, I discovered the wonders (and eventually curses) of Limewire and figured out that torrents were outside the reach of my parents’ firewalls. In the early 2000’s hard drive storage wasn’t cheap and bandwidth wasn’t great in my house. I was restricted to blind-downloading image folders off of Limewire which was uber time consuming and meticulous, but I didn’t care. I felt like I was playing a scratch off lotto ticket as each file slowly downloaded. I was always thinking “this is the one I’ll masturbate to” – but then I’d keep scratching thinking maybe the jackpot is the file that hasn’t downloaded yet. After literal hours of this, I would burst and sober up. But the next day I was back at it, wanting more.
In high school, I got a webcam and with hookups and girlfriends I made my own porn to masturbate to. This was just for me, I had the only copy, it was never shown to anyone or distributed anywhere. I hid them deep within mislabeled subfolders on an external hard drive. Having watched Euphoria recently, this was another reckless move in the name of my PMO addiction. The hard drive failed around the time I moved away for college and everything was erased. I was distressed at the time, but I’m grateful in retrospect.
Freshman year 2008, I was unleashed with campus wi-fi and no restrictions. I remember at first it felt strange to have that much freedom and some of the thrill was gone because there was no more sneaking around. Also, I was 18 now and porn was legal and so I justified to myself that it was totally fine and normal.
From then until now has been a wobbly road of periodically recognizing that there might be a problem, but never taking it seriously enough to commit to fixing it. My previous attempts to stop watching porn or masturbating were on par with my meat loving roommate’s claim that he was now going vegan… bottom line, it never lasted a week. My friends only ever mentioned porn or masturbation in a kidding or casual context, so it was normalized in my mind. In the moment, I was aware of small immediate mood effects of PMO, but I was blind to the long-term damages for a long time. Negative thoughts would start surfacing when I finished - feelings of self-loathing after wasting literal hours on porn instead of studying for exams or experiencing light depression because I jerked off all afternoon and my mojo to go out and be social was gone.
For a while I tried supplementing porn for the real thing, thinking that would be better. In line with my porn, it translated into a hunger for variety and a fondness for NSA sex, and a skewed view of how relationships worked. If I was dating, I was never content for long. Even if she was near perfect, I constantly had a ‘grass is greener’ urge. When I wasn’t dating, I would feed my hunger seeking out hookup and in some instances by writing and answering Craigslist personal ads (this was before Tinder) – and I admittedly put myself in a few dangerous situations. This was not only unhealthy, but it didn’t stop me from watching porn either. In fact, it became common that I had trouble getting erect with dates because I had already masturbated earlier or there was not enough (or the right kind) of stimuli, or a combo of the two.
By the time I graduated college I was in a serious relationship and I had also started mixing weed with porn and masturbation. I quickly got addicted to the heightened sensation. Not only did it make the experience more intense, but it made it slightly harder to cum and therefore prolonged the masturbation ritual. Speaking of prolonging the process, have you tried deciding what to watch on Netflix while stoned? Deciding on porn is much worst; time just evaporates. It didn’t take long before every time I got high, I habitually started to watch porn and masturbating. But even worst, every time I had the urge to watch porn and masturbate, I craved that extra sensation and wanted to get high… and many times I did. Not only was I wasting significant time perusing and masturbating to porn, but after I finished, I was still stoned and fairly useless for a several hours after.
This habit hit a new low about 3 years ago when I discovered ‘masturbation games’ like Cock Hero on Pornhub. I loved it because it stretched out the masturbation period to over an hour at times. The high stimulation for prolonged periods began noticeably messing with my oxytocin and dopamine levels. Instead of the previous ‘sobering’ and ‘head clarity’ that ejaculation previous gave, now I was left in a much lower state that resembled a light depression. I estimate generously that I have cumulatively lost literally weeks, if not months, of my life to this cycle over the last 7 years alone as these habits have intensified. Naturally, my relationships and my career have suffered severely as well.
Last month I lost my job. I am not going to blame that solely on porn, or masturbation, or even weed. But I do wonder if I had used those countless hours differently, had a clearer head and better focus – that my position in life today might be very different. Today I have been completely sober for 2 weeks. That may not sound all that impressive, but it’s the longest I have been sober in almost 10 years. I thought sobering would fix things, and the changes I’ve seen are already huge, but I realize its only half of the solution.
Last night I watched the Black Mirror episode Striking Vipers and it hit me like a punch in the face realizing that I was Anthony Mackie’s character: acting like a zombie around his beautiful wife, waiting for a chance to escape to some virtual fantasy. Only instead of some futuristic VR game, I am isolating and ‘cheating’ on my fiancé with my porn addiction. She is beautiful, sexy, great in bed, and I love her… yet it shamefully takes me effort to get turned on for her. Our sex life has been few and far between for a while now and it has naturally been making her increasingly insecure. A few weeks ago, she outright asked me if I even found her attractive anymore. I have blamed my lack of interest on being ‘tired’ and stress from losing my job and stresses from my job before that. But that only lasts so long before I lose her and I am not willing to let that happen.
I am ready for this leap. I know this was long, but I wrote this for myself. Spelling it all out has clearly shown me that porn is a cancer in my life. I am posting it here in hopes of finding a support group from others who have had similar struggles, a means of accountability, and maybe helping someone else avoid my pitfalls and convince them to make this leap sooner than I did.
Currently, my biggest challenge since losing my office job is that I now work freelance and I sit at home by myself for hours on end every day. Up to 3 times per day, I get a ping in the back of my head to pull up some porn. I get antsy, I have trouble concentrating, and I have consistently given in. Any advice on how to avoid or subdue these mid-day urges is appreciated.
Prior to posting, I have deleted my porn accounts, my collections on my hard drives, and I have installed ‘parental controls’ on my web browsers.
I am a 30 year old man and I am addicted to porn.
Thank you all in advance for any comments, your encouragement and support!
submitted by 3dshit to NoFap [link] [comments]

2019.07.20 17:17 pervertaccount1 Topless mature moms

This is a fun story about a mother introducing her son to the woman’s body, only not everything goes as expected. Both her daughter and her daughter’s boyfriend join them in the activities. I personally like to fill in some of the character details on my own when I’m reading other people’s work, and for that reason I’ve kept some of the details at the top in case you want to skip it.
The Characters:
Jackie is a mother of two, but you wouldn’t know it if you saw her walking down the street. She has brunette hair that lands just past her shoulders, very large breasts that still sit high on her chest, brown nipples of medium size, a fairly thin waist, and wide hips that give her a beautiful hourglass figure. She is thirty nine years old and yet she still has a body that makes younger women jealous.
Her daughter, Ashley, has yet to develop the same as her mother. She happens to have blonde hair, about the same length as her mother’s, and although her breasts are even perkier than Jackie’s they are nowhere near as large. She has tiny, dark pink nipples that are perfectly centered on her breast, and a very thin waist and stomach. Sometimes you can see a hint of her abdominal muscles if she’s positioned correctly. Her brand new boyfriend, Chris, is a few years older than her but much more mature. He’s built fairly average, but quite handsome in the face, and Ashley is eager to impress him.
And then there’s Mikey. He’s the runt in this story. He stands shorter than Ashley by a few inches, and may even be skinnier as well. Even though he just turned eighteen you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. Mikey doesn’t have much muscle definition, and doesn’t have a hair on his body, but he still has plenty of time to develop.
My Story:
Jackie pulled into the garage on a Friday afternoon and started unloading the groceries. Her son, Mikey, went into the garage and rushed to the back of the car.
“Hey, kiddo!” Nancy rubbed her son’s head as he greeted her, messing up his hair. “Here, grab this one. It’s heavy.”
“Sure thing.”
Mikey grabbed the bag and headed back in the house, towards the kitchen. He peeked into the sack, looking for his favorite cereal. All he found was a gallon of milk, a jug of orange juice, and a wine bottle. Jackie followed him in and placed two lighter sacks on the counter top.
“Will you put those away while I get the last sack?” Jackie walked to the garage and smiled when she heard her son cheering loudly.
“Yes! Thanks you! It’s Captain Crunch for dinner tonight!”
Jackie rolled her eyes and laughed as she walked back into the house with the last sack, pushing the door close with her butt. She set the last sack on the table and continued to help her son put the groceries away.
Jackie’s husband was out of town for the weekend, so she was tasked with keeping the rest of the family entertained. Her daughter, Ashley, was planning on hanging out at the house with her boyfriend. Ashley and Chris had only been dating for a few weeks, but she was excited to be dating someone who was more mature and experienced than her.
Ashley walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, texting her boyfriend. Jackie shook her head and wondered if it was possible for her daughter to go more than 10 minutes without texting to her boyfriend.
“Is Chris still coming over tonight?”
“Yeah, he’ll be here in about half an hour. Hey, what are we doing for dinner?”
“Well, aside from Captain Crunch… I was thinking about take out. How about pizza or Chinese? Then we can just all hang out tonight, and maybe play some board games or something.”
Mikey heard that and screamed, “Pizza works, too!”
His mother and sister laughed. Ashley didn’t seem to have an opinion, but Jackie decided she would order both, just in case. Jackie poured herself a glass of wine and started calling a few restaurants, and Ashley told Chris that he should head over soon.
In the meantime, Jackie started going through their board games in order to figure out how they’d spend the evening. Only a few looked interesting to her, but Ashley and Mikey couldn’t come to an agreement. The doorbell rang as they discussed their options, and Ashley jumped up and rushed to the door to let her boyfriend in.
“Hey, Chris!”
Chris gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then stepped inside. Jackie smiled and Mikey waved at him.
“Mikey! How’s it going, bud? What are we doing tonight?” Chris kicked off his shoes and walked into the living room. His eyebrows raised when he saw the countless board games that were scattered across the carpet.
“Mom and I are trying to find out what board game we’ll play tonight, but we’re having a hard time making a decision. What do you think?”
Chris laughed and crossed his arms. Ashley stood next to him, leaning into his shoulder.
“Bud, I don’t care one bit. I’ll play anything with you guys.”
Jackie found that endearing. She really appreciated how Chris treated everyone in the family. She knew that Chris had a touch of a wild side when he was with his other friends, but he was always polite and showed his manners when it counted.
Jackie also had a bit of a wild side when she was younger, which is one of the reasons why she let her daughter date Chris. Also, Jackie knew that Ashley was responsible enough to have fun once in a while without letting things get too carried away. Mikey, on the other hand, was nothing like his mother nor sister. For some reason he ended up being completely sweet and innocent.
Eventually the pizza delivery boy arrived and rang the doorbell. Jackie finished pouring herself a second glass of wine, then walked to the door with a wad of cash in hand. She opened the door and smiled at the young delivery boy. Ashley and Chris watched with great interest, knowing what Jackie was about to do.
Jackie leaned into the door frame with one hand on her hip, and the other hand raising her glass so she could take a sip. The delivery boy was wide eyed, not expecting such a gorgeous woman to answer the door for him. He stared at her cleavage that was busting out of the tight, low-cut blouse she was wearing, then his eyes gazed downward, past her hips and smooth legs that showed below her dress, then finally looked down at his own feet in embarrassment.
“Would you mind bringing those inside for me? My hands are full.”
Jackie enjoyed being ogled. Although she was still as gorgeous as ever, the fact of the matter is that she was getting older, and she worried the day would come where men wouldn’t look at her the same way.
The delivery boy walked into the house and Chris got up to greet him. Chris held out his hands and took the pizzas from him, then brought them to the kitchen counter. The delivery boy turned back to Jackie, and she tried thumbing through the cash in her hand while still holding onto a wine glass with the other.
“So, thirty dollars for the pizzas, and then for your tip…” Jackie accidentally dropped a few bills on the floor and bent over to pick them up. The delivery boy had a perfect view down her blouse and didn’t hesitate to get a good look. Jackie grabbed the bills and stood back up, then apologized for her clumsiness.
“Okay, where were we? Oh yes, your tip.” She winked at the delivery boy, then handed him an extra five bucks and he was on his way. She walked back to the kitchen noticed Ashley had her hands on her hips, giving her mother a disapproving look.
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
Ashley and Chris started laughing, knowing that their mother just purposely teased the young man. Mikey remained oblivious to the situation.
“No, you did nothing wrong,” said Chris. “Hell, I wish I got tips like that when I was younger.”
Ashley punched Chris’ shoulder. “Shut it! That’s my mom!”
Jackie gave Chris a wink as he rubbed his shoulder, then they started grabbing plates and cups. All four of them stood around the kitchen counter and casually talked as they ate a few slices of pizza. Jackie drank her wine and noticed Chris was watching her drink it down. She gestured her glass towards him to offer him some, but he shook his head.
“No, I’d better not. Maybe when I’m legal.” He winked at Jackie while Ashley snickered.
Jackie continued to drink wine but avoided the pizza, knowing the Chinese food would be delivered any minute. She felt the wine hit her more quickly than usual due to her empty stomach. As she watched her children eat, she kept trying to throw out ideas for what the four of them could do to entertain themselves that evening.
“If we can’t settle on a board game, maybe we can play some card games instead.”
Chris nodded, “I like cards. I only know a few games, but I’d be happy to learn something new.”
Mikey finished his pizza and looked over at his mother, noticing her cleavage was still on display. He wanted to stare but was frightened of getting caught. Mikey shifted in his chair and sat quietly, listening to the other three. The doorbell rang again before they had a chance to settle on a card game.
Ashley looked at her mother, “No way, I’m getting this one! Give me some cash.”
“Excuse me, did you mean to say ‘please’?”
Jackie handed her daughter some money and Ashley snapped it out of her hand. She giggled as she walked up to the door, turning her head to talk back to her mother.
“You did a good job with the pizza boy, but I’ll make sure the Chinese delivery driver leaves even more satisfied!”
Jackie and Chris laughed as they watched Ashley strut up to the door with confidence. Jackie thought this was just a little innocent fun, and was curious to see how her daughter would flirt. She figured that Ashley had some experience with the opposite sex, but wasn’t entirely sure how much her daughter actually knew.
Ashley paused before she opened the door, then looked down at her shirt. She wasn’t showing as much cleavage like her mother, but the spandex that she was wearing was hugging her perfectly shaped ass. She opened the door with a sultry look on her face, and was greeted by a young Asian man with a big smile on his face.
The delivery driver politely handed her the food, then reminded her what the delivery cost was. Ashley set down the food, then started thumbing through her cash.
“Okay, twenty seven dollars covers the bill, and then for your tip…” Ashley remembered the game that her mother played earlier, and decided to do the same. She dropped some cash on the floor, then bent down to pick it up, making sure turn so her ass was pointed towards the delivery boy. Jackie took notice
“Oops! I’m sorry. Sheesh, I’m so clumsy. Here… let me just bend down and…” While Ashley was bent over and picking up the cash, she turned her head around to see if the driver was checking out her ass. He wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he was turned around and facing the street. Ashley heard her mother and boyfriend burst out laughing while they watched her from the kitchen.
Frustrated, Ashley handed the delivery driver the cash and walked back with the food. She put on a show and pouted her lower lip, acting like she was about to cry, then she started laughing at her own failure.
“He didn’t even look at you, not a single glance!” Chris teased his girlfriend and they all continued to laugh. Ashley was a bit embarrassed, and her mother could feel a slight dip in her confidence.
“Oh, don’t worry honey. I’m pretty sure he was just being professional. The pizza boy would have surely given a look.”
“I doubt it, look at me!” Ashley cupped her breasts and raised them up and down, catching Mikey’s eye. “Mom, why didn’t you pass your breasts down to me? See, this is all your fault.”
“I have to agree, Jackie,” said Chris, “It would have been nice if Ashley’s were as big as yours.”
“Chris!” Ashley playfully slapped him in the shoulder and he laughed. Jackie blushed at the compliment, and the three of them continued to joke and tease each other over the silly situation.
Mikey kept fairly quiet as he was a bit embarrassed, and Jackie took notice. She was concerned that Mikey would never come out of his shell. She wanted him to be more comfortable around girls, but Mikey always seemed to shy away from the subject whenever she brought it up.
“Hey, I have an idea for a game,” said Jackie. “We could play poker. Five card draw. Do you all know it?”
Mikey didn’t know the rules, so Jackie started explaining it to him while Chris wrote down a list of possible hands, ordered from highest to lowest. Ashley started cleaning up the kitchen and grabbed the deck of cards. She was about to sit down at the table until she noticed her mother’s wine glass was empty. She grabbed the bottle off the counter, then refilled her mom’s glass.
“Thank you, dear.” Jackie took another sip, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. She was ready to have some fun.
The four of them sat around the table and Jackie started shuffling the cards. She realized that not everyone had money on them.
“You know, I could give money to everyone in order to gamble with something, but that would be pretty lame if I just made you give it back to me after the game was over.”
“I have some cash,” said Chris, “so maybe we could play with two teams? How about Ashley and I play one hand, and then you and your son play the other.”
Mikey nodded his head enthusiastically. Although the rules were explained to him, he still wasn’t confident enough to play by himself. Jackie looked at her son and smiled.
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “Say, Chris, how much do you have on you?”
Chris pulled out his wallet and started going through it. He was a bit disappointed when he realized he only had a few bucks, much less than he thought he had. Jackie could see the embarrassment on his face.
“No worries, Chris, there are plenty of other games to play.”
“Yeah, what about strip poker?” Suggested Ashley. The room went quiet, but Mikey’s eyes grew wide.
Jackie picked up on his embarrassment and questioned her daughter, “Strip poker? Really?” She was acting surprised by her daughter’s risqué suggestion, but she wasn’t necessarily opposed to the suggestion.
“Why not? You flaunted yourself in front of Pizza Boy, but you’re too embarrassed in front of us?”
Chris quietly slumped back in his chair, waiting to see how it would play out. Jackie, on the other hand, was trying to figure out the motives of daughter’s challenge. Was Ashley trying to show up her mother, or just get Mikey out of his comfort zone? She looked over at her son, the most innocent at the table, and saw him looking down at his lap. Jackie could tell her son felt a little awkward.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m too embarrassed. I just figure you three might not be brave enough. How about this, I’ll play if you three are okay with it.” She looked to Mikey, “But we can always stop at any time.”
Ashley looked satisfied, and Chris shrugged his shoulders to indicate he was okay with it. Everyone looked at Mikey, who sat quietly. Jackie really wanted to make sure everyone played together that evening, so she tried to encourage her son.
“Mikey will do it. No problem. He and I are going to smoke you two.”
Jackie winked at Mikey, and he started walking over to sit next to his mother. When he sat down, Jackie leaned over and whispered into his ear.
“Mom knows how to play really well, so don’t worry about it.” Jackie patted her son on the thigh, and watched as Chris and her daughter situated themselves on the other side of the table. She looked down at her son and tried to gauge how many items of clothing he was wearing.
“Okay, so what are the rules, mom?” asked Ashley.
“Well, we all know the basic rules of poker, and those still apply. But since we’re on teams, each team gets a single hand of five cards. When the hand is dealt, each team look and discuss which cards to hold, and which to discard. After that we’ll draw back to five cards, lay them down, and the losing team has to take off one article of clothing.”
“Do both players on the losing team have to take off an article of clothing, or just one of the players has to?”
“Hmm…” Jackie thought for a bit. “You know, if only one of the players has to strip, then we can stretch out the game a little longer. I think that might be better.”
Everyone agreed. Jackie started shuffling the cards while Ashley and Chris whispered into each other’s ears and giggled. Mikey was feeling a little uncomfortable regarding the whole situation.
“Oh, I have one more idea,” said Chris. “Only one of the players on the losing team has to take off an article of clothing, but they can’t take it off themselves. The other person has to take it off for them.”
Jackie’s eyebrows raised, then she nodded her head to accept the rule. Mikey didn’t seem to have a choice. He was along for the ride.
The first hand was dealt and both teams looked at their cards. Ashley and Chris had a pair of 3’s, while Jackie and Mikey only had Queen high. Ashley drew three cards, and Jackie kept the queen, drawing four cards total.
Chris leaned over Ashley’s shoulder and looked at the hand. The hands were going to play quickly since true betting wasn’t involved, so he just squinted his eyes and stared at Jackie, trying to have some fun while drawing the game out a little longer. Jackie put on a show and playfully grinned back at him, then looked down at her own hand. Mikey looked at the cards, unsure whether or not it was considered a good hand.
“You ready?” Asked Jackie. “Let’s see ‘em.”
Both teams laid down their cards, and Mikey sighed in relief when he saw that his pair of queens were going to beat his sister’s pair of 3’s.
“Yes!” cheered Jackie, who turned and hugged her son. “Good job, Mikey! We got them!”
Chris laughed and Ashley rolled her eyes. Mikey was quite happy, bouncing in his chair. He looked at his sister, who was looking at Chris. She was waiting to see whether Chris would have to remove an item, or she would.
“Okay, okay. They got us this time,” said Chris, “but we’ll get them next time. I guess I’ll take one for the team, and remove my…” Everyone looked at Chris as the suspension built up.
“Socks!” Chris started to laugh and moved his feet towards Ashley. She removed his socks, all while joking that they should actually count as two items of clothing since she was taking both of them off. They all had a laugh, and then Jackie dealt another hand.
Once again, Jackie and Mikey were dealt a poor hand, but they both remained optimistic since they pulled it off last time. Chris and Ashley looked more confident, asking for three cards.
Jackie dealt out the cards and everyone squinted, furrowed their brows, and acted like they were filming the final poker scene of Maverick. Jackie and Mikey laid down their hand first, revealing a pair of 10’s. Ashley looked to Chris, and he laid down his hand — two pair, 9’s over 4’s.
Ashley cheered and kissed Chris on the cheek, while Jackie looked over to her defeated son. Mikey wasn’t sad that they lost the hand, he was nervous that he may have to strip in front of everyone.
Jackie noticed that Mikey was nervous, then looked down at her own attire. Unlike Chris, she wasn’t wearing any socks. She took a deep breath and took one for the team.
“Okay, Mikey, they got us. Unfortunately mom isn’t wearing any socks, so I’ll have to take off my top.”
Mikey sighed a breath of relief that he wouldn’t have to strip yet, but then felt confused that his mother was going to be topless. He hadn’t been with a girl before, so this would be his first time seeing a woman wearing a bra in person. Jackie reached down and started to unbutton her blouse.
“No, no, no! Now hang on a minute.” Chris stopped her from removing her top. “You don’t get to do that. Mikey has to remove it, remember?”
Ashley snickered at the thought of her younger brother removing her mom’s shirt. Jackie tried to play it off like it was no big deal, and Chris looked on in amusement. Jackie turned to her son, then got down on her knees in front of him. Mikey sat in his chair and rotated towards his mother.
Jackie was still a few inches taller than him, so Mikey had to reach up in order to start unbuttoning the top of her blouse. Everyone saw his trembling fingers as he fumbled with the top button. Ashley giggled, but Jackie encouraged her son to relax and take his time.
Jackie’s cleavage was already on display, but as the buttons came undone, Mikey got a much better view of his mother’s breasts. Mikey removed the last button, then reached up and grabbed the fabric at his mother’s shoulders. He had to lean towards her in order to grab the fabric, so his face was now so close to his mother’s breasts that he could feel the warmth emanating off of them. Mikey pulled the fabric down her arms, towards the floor, and his forehead bumped into his mother’s breasts as the fabric dropped to the floor.
Jackie noticed that he bumped into her, but she didn’t respond in order to prevent further embarrassment. She just smiled at him and then sat in her chair. Chris was openly staring at Jackie’s breast and she felt a sense of satisfaction.
“Getting a good view?” asked Ashley, informing her boyfriend that she knew he was staring at her mother. Chris cleared his throat and snapped out of it, ready to continue playing. Ashley was starting to get a little jealous of the attention her mother was getting, and not just the attention from her boyfriend. Ashley also noticed that Mikey was struggling not to stare at her tits. Instead of being grossed out by the thought, Ashley wondered if Mikey had ever stared at her before.
The next hand was dealt and both teams exchanged cards, then redrew back to five. Ashley and Chris had lost, so one of them had to remove a piece of clothing.
“No big deal,” said Chris. “I’ll just have Ashley take off my shirt.”
“Actually, I don’t think that’s fair,” said Jackie. “You removed an article of clothing last time, so now it’s Ashley’s turn.”
Ashley was a bit miffed. She also wasn’t wearing any socks, so she had to decide between her shirt or her spandex pants. Although she was already showing off her curves due to her tightly fitting spandex, she didn’t want to remove her pants because she was wearing a tiny thong underneath, in order to hide any panty lines. She decided to remove her top.
Ashley stood up and turned towards Chris. She was extremely nervous because in the few weeks she had been dating him, they hadn’t done very much. Up until now they had made out a few times, and only once did Ashley let Chris put his hand up her top. She didn’t even take her shirt off, though, so Chris had still never seen Ashley’s breasts.
Chris could sense that Ashley was a little jittery. However, since it was her idea to play strip poker in the first place, he didn’t feel too bad making her follow through with it. He reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Ashley’s light pink bra came into view, and everyone in the room was able to admire her perky breasts.
Sure, they weren’t as big as her mother’s, but they certainly weren’t small. Her perfectly round and perky breasts did a wonderful job filling out her bra, and Mikey’s excitement just went up a notch.
“Uhh, I need to use the restroom. Hang on a second.” Mikey ran towards the bathroom, and his mother snickered since she knew why he had to make a quick exit.
“Ahh, poor guy. I think Mikey may be getting a little overwhelmed looking at his sister and I. What do you think, Chris?”
Chris looked down at his lap. “Hell, I think I might be getting a little excited, too!”
Ashley laughed as she looked down at his lap, which helped lighten the mood a bit. She was becoming more comfortable wearing only a bra in front of everyone, and decided to have a little fun herself.
“So, mom, did you notice a little bulge in his pants as he walked to the bathroom, or was I imagining things?”
They all laughed at Mikey’s situation, but Jackie made them promise not to embarrass him when he returned to the table. Chris especially wanted to be nice to Mikey, because he remembered what it was like being in similar situations when he was younger. He was determined to help Mikey out through the night. Mikey eventually returned to the table, and Chris whispered to Ashley that she should remember to be nice.
A few more hands were played, and a few more items of clothing were removed. Both Chris and Mikey had lost their shirts, so they only had their shorts and underwear left. Ashley still had her bra, her spandex, and her thong, and Jackie still wore her bra and dress.
Chris and Ashley lost the next hand, and it was Ashley’s turn to remove a piece of clothing since Chris had just removed his shirt. They looked at each other and Chris grinned. Ashley knew she was going to have to remove her spandex.
“It’s no different than wearing a swimsuit, right?” asked Jackie.
Ashley didn’t answer, because the swimsuits she wore were much more conservative than her choice of underwear. Instead, Ashley stood up and faced her boyfriend. She wasn’t reluctant, though, just nervous for what was going to happen. Chris placed his hands on her spandex and started pulling them down, past her hips. Her ass came into view, and since she was standing sideways to her mother and brother, they had a perfect view of her profile.
Ashley’s thong sunk far enough into her ass that from her brother’s point of view she may have well been naked. Mikey stared at his sister’s firm, round ass without even thinking about getting caught. This was even better than looking at his mother’s breasts that were spilling out of her bra.
Chris gazed forward, finally able to see his girlfriend’s crotch for the first time. Her thin panties left very little to the imagination. It was obvious that Ashley must have completely shaved all of her pubic hair, because not only was there no stubble to be seen coming out of the sides of her panties, the fabric was sheer enough that he could see right through it. In fact, Chris could just barely see the outline of his girlfriend’s pussy and upper lips. What Chris failed to realize was that he was slowly leaning forward, getting closer and closer to Ashley’s crotch, until he was about to bump into her.
Ahem.” Jackie cleared her throat. “I think if you lean any closer then you may get a taste of dessert.”
“Mom!” Ashley was embarrassed, but Mikey laughed. Chris didn’t seem to mind, though, he just smiled and sat back in his chair. He looked over to Jackie and glanced at her breasts for a brief moment, then looked her in the eyes. She winked at him, and the two of them leaned back into their seats in preparation for the next hand.
“Everyone doing alright?” Jackie asked as she dealt the next hand. The tension in the room was increasing. Mikey’s erection was about to make another appearance, and Ashley was getting quite excited since her boyfriend was seeing so much of her for the first time.
The next round was dealt and both teams looked at their hands, then exchanged cards in suspense. Chris didn’t seem to mind his situation all that much, since he wasn’t too worried about having to take off his shorts and sit in his boxers. Ashley and Mikey were much more worried, though. If Ashley were to lose, she would have to take off her bra and reveal her breasts to the room. If Mikey were to lose, he would have to take off his shorts, then everyone would likely see his erection busting through his underwear.
Time came for them to reveal their hands. Jackie laid down her and Mikey’s hand. She had two pair, queens over 10’s. Mikey got excited at seeing such a good hand, and Ashley let out a sigh. She slowly laid down her and Chris’ hand to reveal a three jacks.
Mikey was a little confused. He couldn’t remember which hand was ranked higher, so he looked up to his mom. She had a small smile on her face, and Mikey bounced happily in his chair.
“Well, Mikey, at least we put up a good fight.”
Mikey was confused. Jackie looked at her son, and he started to realize that her smile didn’t mean what he previously thought.
Chris explained to him, “Two pair gets beaten by three of a kind, Mikey. Sorry, bud.”
However, Chris didn’t sound all that sorry. Although Mikey was a bit disappointed, Jackie turned to him and asked him if he was ready. Mikey looked sad until Jackie gestured to him that he needed to help her. Mikey forgot that it was his mother’s turn to remove a piece of clothing, so he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself just yet. Instead, he realized his mother was going to have to remove her form-fitting dress, leaving her in just her underwear.
Ashley was grinning, excited that her mother was going to have to join her in wearing nothing but underwear. “So, mom, when’s the last time someone else took your clothes off besides dad?” Ashley looked at her brother and enjoyed seeing him squirm in his chair.
Jackie reached down to caress her son’s head. She spoke with a calm voice, “Oh, stop teasing, it’s not like that.”
Jackie stood up from her chair and faced her son. Mikey turned towards his mother, but was too shy to make eye contact. He stared at her feet instead. Jackie took a step forward, and her right foot landed in between her son’s legs. Mikey reached his trembling hands forward, towards his mother’s waist, and pried his fingers underneath the waistband of his mother’s dress. Jackie reached her hand out to stop him.
Jackie cradled the back of Mikey’s head, pulling him up to his feet. Mikey was confused. He stood a bit shorter than his mother, so his eyes were directly in front of his mother’s chest. He looked up to her and she smiled at him, then she grabbed his arm and started reaching it around her back. Ashley gasped when she realized what was going to happen next.
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2018.07.09 23:30 SugarScallops Mature moms topless

You never washed your sheets. I know this, firstly, because the pills of unwashed cotton pressing into you is not easily forgotten, but secondly because whatever scent was there at at given moment was completely identifiable a week later.
And so, as I lay there with pills digging into my back, the distant sound of your dogs (and parents) upstairs and the scent of both mine and your deodorant and sweat all overwhelming me, it's no wonder I cried the first time you crawled on top of me
I always explained my panic by saying it's a spectrum thing To some extent, that was true in that I am on the spectrum and it was happening to me But I know what it feels like when autism attacks and this wasn't that. This was the pure terror of the unknown, of the future, of growing up, and to some extent, the terror of you
I was between my freshman and sophomore year of high school, and you were about to enter your freshmen year of college, albeit an early college. My mom always seemed wary of the situation, and while I assured her it was alright I now see that my hand shaking while she warned me about older boys wasn't because it was awkward, it's because some part of me knew she was right
You had had sex before, but you were my first kiss. You had dated before, but you were my first date. This metaphor could carry on for any multitude of things, whipped cream eaten off of, cars made out in, lips bitten and hickeys left. For the sake of brevity I will abbreviate it to first everything but you never had the ceremony that a 15 year olds grand opening of sexuality should have. The first day we kissed was also the first day you saw me topless, and the first day you(or anyone, for that matter) touched my breasts. And that flood of endorphins combined with the loop of you whispering "I don't want to push you" was enough for me to ignore the little Catholic resting in my earlobe. We wore each other's shirts and you grabbed my butt and life was good.
I cried when I got home from that day, but I rationalized it quickly when you kissed my neck the very next day. I told you I didn't want to go any further for a while and you hummed in agreement but continued with your business of taking as many clothes off of me until I hummed back in protest. For a while that was alright and I reached an equilibrium with that voice of doubt.
Somewhere around this time I went over to your grandparents house for dinner. I talked about Nascar with your grandpa and vegetables with your grandma. I liked them better than you. Still do
2 weeks of teenage lust later, you got my pants off. I maintained the underwear boundary because some semblance of my previously set ideas remained, somehow. Following suit, your pants also came off. If we're being honest, the fact that you had to take your own pants off while you very chivalrously helped me with mine should have been a hint to the both of us. That was the day that you, being ever the classy gentlemen, flopped onto my back and laughed with me for a little, the aforementioned joking climaxing with you going "look, there's a penis on your butt". You were barely any more mature than I was. Neither one of us should have gotten into this.
As soon as you crossed the underwear line I wasn't far behind because, if we're being completely honest, the sexiest things you ever said to me were the slightly embarrassing comments on the state of my underwear as you pushed your hand against my hips and kissed up and down my chest. However, as long as we're being completely honest, the only time I ever really came with you was the first time you went down on me.
When you first saw me naked, in all of my 15 year old glory, my first concern was the scars on my hips. I was a traumatized 10 year old, what can I say. However, in hindsight, the fact that my concern was chiefly your judgement is upsetting in more ways than one. Nakedness should be comfortable. I was never comfortable with you.
You continued the routine of testing a boundary, backing off, then pushing again until the first time you got me in handcuffs. It was at least partially my idea, to be fair. But the way you went about it had me doubting any of the stories you’d told me about your “experience” in this area.
As you listened to my pushback, one of a handful of times you actually did listen, you rolled it back. I had to ask you for things. I had to compliment you. Everything I said I said out of fear of the unknown. I didn’t know I was allowed to say no, to tell you the truth. I was never worried about retaliation from you. You were, and probably are, weak. You took advantage of my weakness, though. I didn’t know that I was allowed to have boundaries.
One night you invited me to the drive-in with you. It was a cute idea. We hung out beforehand. That was the night you convinced me to let you fuck me. You held me against the bed and whispered into my ear as you rutted, unceremoniously, into me. You told me to bite your shoulder if I needed to scream. Hate to break it to you, but I wasn’t even close to needing to scream.
A little bit later your family got their house fumigated, so you were in a hotel room. You invited me over, and we spent the day talking about the node map on a game you were making. Well, we spent about an hour talking about the node map on a game you were making. Then you took control of the day. I liked some of it. Other parts I didn’t. Like when you had me bent over and my dad started calling, so I had to tell him I was at the movies. Such an inane issue shouldn’t cause problems, except I was hardly 15. I still didn’t know how to lie to my parents. I cried after that. You held me until I stopped crying, and then fondled my nipple.
We knew we were going to break up when you moved away. It still sucked. You gave me the bear we made at build-a-bear together and sent me a .exe that wrote out a letter to me. I wrote you a handwritten letter. We cried together. You asked me to call you while you drove to the airport, and I said yeah. It was a little late, and I laid down to go to sleep. I still feel shitty about that. When I listened to the voice messages you sent the next morning I started crying too. I had never hear you cry before. It took me a solid year to stop feeling ashamed about that. You assured me it was alright. As many complaints, lasting issues, and fears I now have because of you, you were a good friend. We shouldn’t have dated. You were crude, and I was scared. If you thought I was repressed before, you should see me now.
I hope you’re not taking advantage of people now. I know you are, because I know your current girlfriend is also younger than you, smaller than you, and severely codependent. I know that all because you told me about her suicide attempt. That wasn’t yours to share. In that moment, I felt more of a connection with your suicidal girlfriend, who I had never met, than I had with you. Of course, I’m still bad at standing up for things. So I didn’t tell you any of that. Instead I commiserated passively as you talked about what the relationship had done to you.
I hope I never have to talk to you again. However, I know that even if I am lucky enough to get that, I will think of you. I think of you whenever somebody traces their hands on my back or brushes against my throat. I wouldn’t call it trauma. Just constant reminders, ones I really don’t want. I want you out of my head as much as I think I am out of yours. Unfortunately, you never forget your first. I just wish it wasn’t you.
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2018.01.25 13:37 nsherqatli Mature moms topless

I will write this question, to get a third person opinion. I will be very mature and I would love to hear what others think about this .... it will be very long as i try to explain my question, but I would really pray for you if you find the time to answer it for me. Its really huge and my whole life depends on it. please excuse my grammar mistakes
So my story started, when I met this amazing girl, two years ago in a random gathering. I really saw how different she was from the first moment. She was just different that everyone else, and after talking to her I realised that she is the most perfect woman I have ever seen.
I tried approaching, and it was obvious, that shes the exact opposite of me, shes just too sweet for this world. And I am kind of an asshole :p. Not in a bad way, i treat the people that I love in the sweetest way possible, but lets say there is some kind of a devil inside me.
So things worked for me, and I admired the way she looks day after day, and she was very careful, because she knew he mom wouldnt like me. Her mom would not like me because we come from a traditional country and she wants a guy who is rich and carries a famous last name, so she can brag about him in front of her friends, and I am kind of that guy who never inherited anything from his parents, and who would work for ever penny he has. The girl is a sweetheart to the point that she would rather listen to her mum, even if it broke her heart. She wishes to find a combination of what she wants, and what her mum wants at the same time. So my way was full of obstacles and everyone was against it, including her sister who was also my best friend at some point, just because they believed of how stubborn her mum is.
So, i loved her, and i really fell in love with her. We had our problems and misunderstandings but they were cool. Afterwards we lived together, and our lives are the best thing in the world, except for uhmmm .... every single day fights.
Now what i know for sure, is that I loved her more than she loved me, I am willing to marry her right away. Id leave everything for her. I quitted smoking, changed my bad friends, became a better student in my university, i became less chaotic in our house. I always clean and keep the house clean so she can be happy. Nonetheless, i did some stupid things, like sleeping at her friends house that I had known for 1 night although she didnt want me to, and she tried to ask me not to do it, and she cried a lot, and I still went, nothing happened there and she trusts me, and the reason i went wasnt because i didnt love her or whatever, but i felt rude to return an invitation that was made ecpecially for me but its just stupid. and after some time, we fixed everything.
Now after some time, we started fighting a lot. Shes a bit sensitive, and I am a bit provocative, and fights light up.
also, she lost her sexual attraction towards me, like when we first met, she was soooo into me, and everything, but now, she is never in the mood. And she wants more of foreplay and so on, although i massage her body for more than 30 minutes everyday and I move my finger on her body because she likes it for hours while shes topless and im kissing her back,front and lips, but she doesnt consider this as foreplay, she thinks of it as a relaxing thing.she thinks i am never satisfied, and again because we come from a traditional community, we never had sex, and she considers me touching her private spots very bad religiously. Although, the massage part, she thinks its okai to be topless, but the bottom parts arent ok. I triend everything, I thought I might be doing something wrong, but im always shaved and clean and so on, and i asked her directly and she made me 100% sure that im not doing anything wrong, and she is just avoiding it due to her religious conscience. She watches me going to the bathroom to touch myself, and shes okai with it. I suggested that we stick to certain bases, and we stay beyod the limits of what makes her comfortable, but she avoided the situation. I tried giving her some time, without being sexual or attending to be, and after around 10 days, I started crying in the middle of the night, after i tried to foreplay for an hour of different kinds of pleasure, and she also refused, and wanted to sleep after i was done massaging her.
since I have a strong personality as she describes, she had to be tough with me and not to show me that im weak ever. So instead of asking me to do cute things, she gets sad, because cute things must come from me, and not her. We fight every single day, and i hurt her every single day because i find a way to put the blame on her every single time shes sad or annoyed by anything, i just find a way. And she hurts me, by reminding me how was her ex boyfriend of a man, and that i will never be the same, she manages to tell me, that i will never change, and I am a mean person from the inside and that will never change. She reminds me that i keep disappointing her, and she keeps on having hopes in me. she never says i love you to me, while i say it 90% of the time.
We are not being sexual anymore, its been a long while now, and were fighting and fighting and hurting each other. We really love each other, and we really want to end this and be friends, but even if were friends, we fight. What can we do ?
submitted by nsherqatli to Advice [link] [comments]

2016.10.05 10:08 ewfuckthis72 Pretty Much My Sexual History and living with 2 distinct voices in my head. Life's a trip, man.

Tortuous Truth
I want to beat myself. Fuck this shell. Fuck this human inhabiting my body. Fuck this body. I want to fucking melt. I want someone to take me and turn me into vapor. Atomize me and rip me apart because this timid shell cannot contain me.
But you are, too. Don’t talk to me all big and bad like you have shit figured out behind the scenes. You yell in insecurity, risking exposing our secrets, rather my natural human flaws to the world, with whimsy. Sincerity is one thing but your needless demonizing is itself massive problematic. No, I am not secure in myself. I am scared. I’ve learned to believe in nothing. But this begs the question-
I’m sorry. I get scared when you talk to me that way. I’ll tell them my secrets. I didn’t have real sex until I was 20. I got close multiple times in high school but was overcome by apprehension and circumstance every time. I felt weird having a general desire for sex and to not know them which is unfair. I didn’t want the afterwards drama but I had always hyped it up to my friends and I was too young and concerned with possible future ribbing. So i decided to lie, proof either way being unsubstantiated.
I mean, I was 16, and she was younger.
Fuck, ok. Let’s call her C. She was 13 and I was sketched out by the maturity difference so I only kissed her, and didn’t speak to her again. I’ve tried to hit her up on Facebook a couple of times post-college which is desperate and crusty of me. I still feel my only error was cutting off a relationship that I’m sure wasn’t going to be healthy, and I’ve caused less damage to everyone's lives and expectations.
We’ve wanted to die so bad because we couldn’t talk about this. This source of sexual hang up for years, all because my first association was so inappropriate. I’m glad I recognized the overstep of my boundaries before something heinous occurred.
M or S?
The next time, I was 17 and a junior in high school. I met a girl after classes because I was fooling around the building after school. We found ourselves the only one in the room and we played a board game for a bit. She was a freshman but her boobs were so nice and I was kind of inspired into action. I talked and she laughed and we touched and then I kissed her. She liked it and we made out for 20-ish minutes. I got her phone number and said we could have sex and she was like "sure."
Sometime later over the next couple of weeks, I ask to borrow my friend’s car just for the purpose of fucking her. She was so damn hot to me at the time, I just felt her boobs in my hands and face. Her body was pretty small in comparison to her chest and I was so incredibly about it. I didn't have a license at the time so I drove to the commuter lot and we got busy in the back seat. We make out for forever and I play with her little body for about a half hour before deciding it’s time. We strip down and I’m about to eat her out, god, she looked amazing to me on the seat. And then a big-ass escalade pulls up next to us. We duck down, the windows were a bit fogged up, thankfully, and we wait for them to walk away. My boner was killed and we both agree that that was pretty sketch and we should reschedule.
On the funny side, when I tried to turn the car on, it didn’t work. My friend’s girlfriend had to be called to drop him off and we get jumper cables. She looks frazzled and rough and they dap me up and say looks like I did a good job. I didn’t set the record straight because ,hey, it’s good that they think that. Another day her mom caught us texting because this girl was a badass and always snuck out. She took her phone and we were prohibited from talking. We saw each other at school sometimes but I didn’t want to go through her effort, lest her moms wrath fall down on me. After all, I’m a bit older than her daughter and I’m not gonna add further strain whats obviously a tense relationship. I didn’t pursue her. She faded.
Next is M. We met when I was a sophomore at a class dance. At the time, she was kind of pudgy but a little cute and we danced all night and talked a bit and exchanged numbers. I asked her out on a date. However, physically, I kept switching between being attracted and unattracted to her. In hindsight, she was also in her awkward phase. I didn’t want her to sit with my friends at lunch because we were loud and brash and her squeak would mess up the dynamic. Plus, I didn’t want to spend money on a girl I was only kind of attracted to.
I let her down but we shared a bunch of classes so we remained acquaintances. Fast-foward to senior year after a couple of years of lukewarm association. We talk one day after class and she calls me cute and I blink, and I REALLY see what 2 years growth can do to a teenage girl. She’s beautiful, actually. So we get together, and pull the same car shit. Lol, actually. We’re in the same lot, different friend’s car. We’re making out and she pulls out her also quite large boobs, d-cups maybe? They were goddamn amazing and soft and rubbing all over me, while I haphazardly grabbed and squeezed her everywhere. Shes topless and so am I so I start going down south but then she says, “I’m a christian, can we stay above the belt? I want to wait tell marriage.” I’m like “sure” because, I mean, for sure. Hook up, and play with large boobs? That’s still winning as fuck to me. So we hook up a few more times before graduation. And a couple of times after graduation. And a couple times each and every summer home from college. Probably a few more times in the future, to be honest. How lovely, actually. I don’t know, I feel like I’m respecting her, why do you hate me?
Honestly, I was scared of them pressuring me to pressure her, like “I’m not a man if I cant convince her to have sex with me” or something. And I mean, hey, I have fingered her until she was satisfied (presumably, she seemed to like it and came back). I still consider her a friend.
Ok, I’ll talk about my college “relationships”. Lets start with I, a nervous architecture major who was strangely attracted to me for some reason. She was thick as heck, and the few times we hooked up were amazing but she had this weird smell to her and I didn’t want to tell her about it so we stopped before having sex. She drifted out of my life, the relationship was to brief to really hold.
I’ve hooked up with most of my close female friends. C2 (dear friend), S2 (didn’t know she was in a relationship at the time, we might have had sex which would be when I lost my virginity at 19 but I was drunk and don’t remember so I don’t count it. She is gorgeous though.) Kissed J, and drunkenly made out at parties.
Fuck you’re right, I always do this but I guess I never talk about it. Ok, back to senior year, near the end of the year. My friend went temporarily crazy after doing 25i-nBome. I was sentenced to classes at this boys and girls club for also doing it but not manic and destroying shit. I met this girl, A, who was also in the program for similar reasons. We spend our time in the class ignoring the teacher and sneaking glances at one another. There’s lunch in the cafeteria and we fall into impassioned conversation. It ends with one of us straight up kissing the other. We exchange numbers and vow to meet and text hella raunchy for the next while. Shes smart, too, graduating a year early. One day, a month-ish later, I do shrooms and text her I’m about to trip and she tells me about how her dog died the day before. I’m on my come up and I’m unable to English at the time and I say maybe one conciliatory remark, probably “I’m sorry to hear that.” And not, “I’m here for you babe” or anything actually supportive. I’m straight obliterated by the mushies and can’t text for a few hours. After coming down, I text her my actual concern for her and apologize for being so fucked up in her time of need. I see she sent me a couple text messages during the trip calling me an asshole, and in hindsight, yeah. She never texted me again and that was that.
In college, my sex life normaled out. I had sex with one of my dearest friends, G, which was good the first couple times (especially the first, random blow job after a few months of long distance contact). The last time, I went to eat her out and she smelled quite, uhhh unflattering, down there. She was a little annoyed that I didn’t want to eat her out, but we were shifting to another position. Then, she accidentally kicked me in the balls which I used as a cue to get out and gracefully end that segment of our relationship. She’s still one of my dearest friends that little monster.
Then, I had a relationship with a polyamorous girl, O. It lasted 3–4 months and was beautiful. She was smart, talented, and I could tell her anything. The only problem was that my physical attraction was wavering to her, plus she seemed literally allergic to me for a month. I don’t consider myself a catch catch, but these were just moods. We played music together, explored the city together, lounged and cooked together. Even tripped together. Slept together frequently. About a month in, we decide to have sex for the first time. I’m hella nervous and the touch of her skin literally makes my body recoil from the point intensity. I make a few more jokes than I should have during intimacy and then we finish. I come clean to her about how I don’t really like being touched because the feeling is too intense which might be a side affect of my acid usage. She says, she’s glad I was honest and that our relationship didn’t depend on her sexuality which she was nervous about. We continued to sleep together and chill and our friendship is good. We text occasionally even after I’ve moved away and its always great to hear from her.
I hit on girls now solely because I feel like, as an animal, I should try to mate. I’m actually kind of glad this hasn’t netted me anything because of its insincerity. I have higher priorities now, like starting my own business. I will meet a girl for me when the time is right. Hopefully our libidos match up. I feel guilty desiring only sex sometimes so I do avoid it the topic. I’m one big hang up, but I’m learning to release it and untwist the knot. I must first be honest with me to remove the largely(possibly entirely?) self-inflicted cruelty. I should come clean if the opportunity presents itself but also shouldn’t force it because of the weirdening effect in my relationships.
submitted by ewfuckthis72 to confessions [link] [comments]

2016.06.20 03:13 ChickenHerder21 Mature moms topless

I feel as I need to get this down on paper because if I don't, I relapse into the good times and forget about all the times I was hurt. I hope reading this that someone can give me some honest criticism and how I need to better myself as a person and not enter into another scenario like this again. This relationship lasted 3 years, 1 year into the relationship, we married,
I was 20 years old when I started talking to my (then 30 year old ) ex wife. I was a virgin and never had a gf. When I graduated high school, my parents said they were moving and that it would not make sense to go to college, 2 years went by and no move. I didn't have a permit, no job, I felt trapped. I felt as though my only escape was joining the military, I felt like I was wasting time while all my peers where going to school or working. Fights with my parents over my situation, led to my mom who was a little emotional at times asking me to leave and stay at my grandparents. At my grandparents house, they helped me find a job. I was lonely and had time on my hands when I wasn't at work, I turned to facebook. Political groups mostly. I had my own little clique on there and it was fun for a while, there in some political group, I met my now ex, let's call her Sarah. Sarah was very beautiful and alluring, had a very good and fun personality and I had an instant crush. Over months we talked. She offered me to come and visit her, didn't hear much after that. On New years, she got with a guy and said she loved him, it broke my heart as much as we were talking and flirting. I kept talking to her but not flirty or anything, more politics and we would go into groups with one another. One day she posted in a group that she was having trouble with her boyfriend and whether she should break up with him, she then called me and told me she did that to see what I would say. As we talked, over months and flirtations, she then calls me in a frantic state. Saying how she got with a guy (within 4 months of the last guy) and that he got a temporary restraining order on her. She said that he told her that he molested his sister and that she threw a can of beans at him. I agreed that this guy was sick and believed her. She then informed me that she was a dancer at a go go bar and she was planning a road trip to strip and go out to Cali, that she would like to visit me along the way because I was so mature for my age.
She picked me up, I was infatuated at first sight. She was working about 40 minutes away from me and staying at a motel. On our second date we were intimate. Around the 3rd, she asked me if I ever had any sexual experiences, I told her I just had crushes and that when I was in middle school that I was over a close friends house and he touched me and forced himself on me, that I didn't want to put my hand there. It was a painful part in my life and that I told her that I then once sought out a gay experience on craigslist years after that because I thought "maybe I'm gay because what he did to me made me orgasm". Like I said it was extremely painful to talk about this because it wasn't me or who I would ever date or want to have sex with. I noticed a change in her tone, she became a lot less fun. One night, she told me that a customer spanked her butt hard while she was on stage and that she could not have sex because of that. I told her that I understood and just enjoyed sleeping next to her and caressing her. She then iniated sexual contact. Called me the next day, apologizing. Some time went by, she called me one day, asking me if I would like to accompany her to California. I figured my job was going nowhere and connected with her in so many ways.
So I left with her, we travelled to WV, she worked, we eventually found a place and I a job. She went from real sweet to rages around this time. She would be caring and nice. She explained it that she had horrible exes and she was taking it out on me and she felt horrible, would always apologize, give me great sex for a makeup present. So one day, my parents called and I didn't answer, after 3 days, a cop showed up at my door. My mom called on my wifes phone and they got into a big argument, like bad. Apparently, Sarah said my mom threatened to kill her if she ever talked to like that again. I believed Sarah after my childhood. So my mom and I had some words and I told my mom, I didn't want to speak to her. I felt extremely isolated but at least I had this great girl by my side. Around this time, her car burnt out. Things got tough for us financially. One day, she made plans to go meet a mutual facebook friend, got dressed up, we got in the car to go. In the middle of the drive, we were talking about some sensitive political topic and she started yelling, she whips out the phone and calls the friend and says that I'm being a drama queen and we can't go. I was mad but said whatever, I wasn't really interested in him. So she keeps arguing with me, tells me if I don't answer her yelling at me that she is gonna crash the car, I almost didn't believe her but a bridge came up and she started swerving the car erratically. I complied but in the back of my mind was really worried. So when we pulled back up at the house, I told her that I wanted to pack my stuff and leave and I wanted my savings. I put my savings in with hers. She told me that I needed to stay in the car and she would get it, I refused. I walked into the house and went straight to my savings, as I'm taking it out, she grabbed the savings from me, with a knife in hand. I told her I just wanted my money, my stuff, and to leave. Told her I'd call my parents and apologize and be out of her life. I asked that she hand my money over, she told me to back away, I told her that I just wanted my money, she said to stay away, I stayed there, she said I'm going to cut you. I didn't believe her, she stabbed the tip of the knife into my arm just bellow my wrist. Shocked, I backed away, she threw me my money on the ground. As I was gathering my things and asked her to use her phone to arrange a way out, she starts crying. Saying that it's all her previous boyfriends in her head and that I'm not the one out to hurt her, I said that it didn't matter. I texted my friend we were going to see that he won't be seeing me at least, that Sarah just stabbed me. When I told her that I told him, she flipped out. As I was walking out the door, she grabbed me by the pants, pulled me in closer, and began undoing my pants, apologizing as she began fellating me. I forgave her... Stupid, I know.
So we were looking to move out of that place due to the job market sucking. We travelled to another state, found a great private home on acreage. We arranged that a neighbor help us move. We drove there and he got lost on the way, she drove there with a suspended license due to a insurance error and didn't want to get back on the road with that. So she asked me to stand near the end of the driveway to flag down our lost neighbor helper. I walked to a neighbor to use their phone to try and contact our lost helpers. Walking back up the driveway, Sarah was there. She was swearing at me, saying that her plan all along was that she was just using me to help her move and her dogs and that she was done with her. I didn't know what to say, I said that if she wanted me to leave, I would leave but I didn't want to play games and that I didn't appreciate it. She apologized, saying that was her evil side talking and she was happy to be in this place now.
We began setting up our dream home, the days were falling off the calendar, things were doing so good, we began working on me getting my license, purchased a gun for target practice and home protection, looking for jobs. She was right down the road from a job where she could strip, she said that she would try to find another job in the area where she didn't have to do that. Around the 4th of July, she started a fight when one of our friends were over, I told her that I didn't want to argue anymore, that if she wanted me to leave, I'll leave, that I only cared about her being happy and us building a life together. This was one of the few times when I actually drank, I drank that night to drown away my sorrow, that if I was gonna leave, I might as well be drunk to dull the pain. Walking into the house from the bonfire, she apologized to me, saying that she wants to keep the best thing ever to happen to her, she started playing around again, undoing my pants. Saying that she loved me and also wanted to build a life together.
This is where things started getting complicated, she was in contact with one of her facebook friends, he was 26 years old, lived at home, never had a job, and was probably undiagnosed autistic. He ran a youtube channel with some funny political humor. I was never that thrilled with him but my ex said that she wanted to throw him a birthday party and invite some friends. We drove 1.5 hours to go pick him up, he was dropped off by his mom. He wasn't very social, very hard to talk to and would only seem to talk to you in a fake accent, in his case, redneck or gay man. So we had him come back to our house with one of her friends from work and her bf. We shot guns, we drank, had a bonfire, it was a fun time, I had so much fun that night that kinda passed out from the weed. Sarah had such a blast that she took her top off and danced by the bonfire. So I woke up out of my stupe, I walked outside and found my ex and the facebook friend inside the car. It was dark but she was topless and naked from what I think now. They were very quiet and now from what I think now, almost scared. I told Sarah to come inside and that she doesn't handle alcohol too well. It was at this point where I thought anything to happen between this guy and her, it was impossible, especially with Sarah making fun of him the entire time and saying that he was nothing like his online persona. The facebook friend slept over, he was upstairs, in the morning she woke up me, she said that she wanted to have sex so he could hear. I thought it was kinda weird. We had sex, she was very loud and so on. So we went into town for coffee, he was acting almost infantile, tugging at Sarah's shoulder to order coffee for him because he was afraid to order I guess. We dropped him off at his home, it was sad, his mom was a single mom, obviously sheltered him a little too much. We left. About 3 days after that, we had a tree fall down on our power lines. We waited till the next morning to see what happened, it blocked our driveway entirely, we could not exit.
So we were walking down the driveway, she said that she forgot her hairbrush and that she wanted me to help her, I was a little stubborn and told her that I'd rather try to keep chopping at the tree and hope that I could seperate it. She began getting increasingly irate. Some words were said, I told her that she was acting unreasonable. She began screaming at me for my gay experimentation in middle school. Calling me a faggot, telling me that she hated me, I told her that she needed to calm down, this wasn't helping and she was just hurting me for no reason. As we were walking, she kept getting increasingly mad, near the end of the driveway, she hits me in the back, I turn around to see her, she grabs my arm and slashes it with her car key,I pushed her off of me and she fell on the ground, I said "Wtf" "bitch we are done" , she started screaming at the top of her lungs and ran down the driveway like a banshee. Screaming like she was being killed. I was in complete shock, I figured that something was amiss in her, I began being afraid of what just happened and how I even react. I walked back into the house, figured that she would walk back, after she cooled down, and we could talk about me leaving cause I honestly could not imagine any reason why she did that and felt abused. I waited and waited, did some chores while I waited. Hours went by and it started getting dark, I figured something was wrong now, what if she got hit by a car, I walked towards the end of the driveway. Two police officers with rifles jumped out of the bushes and told me to put my hands up, then get on the ground. At this point, I knew what happened. They told me I was being charged for domestic violence and abduction, I almost choked when they told me, I told them that I was attacked and I don't know how this is happening, he took a picture of the key mark on my arm and told me that I tried to abduct my then girlfriend and she slashed me and got away. I didn't know what to say. I was sitting in the cop car and felt like my life was over. I went to jail, got put in maximum security. I was also told that I had a protective order placed on me and that I could not talk to Sarah for 3 days. I was terrified and felt totally alone. The first night, the guard came to tell me that "my older sister lawyer told me to call her, with a number", I didn't have an older sister lawyer. It was Sarah. After 3 days, I called the number, Sarah told me that the cops lied to her, that they said stuff that she didn't say and that she was in utter agony, that she was gonna tell them that she was the one who attacked me and would get me out. She said that people at the end of the driveway called the cops when they heard her yelling and lied that they saw us fighting. The complaint that the cops gave me said nothing of the sort, it said a woman was seeking help after she claimed to have been attacked by me. So she began visiting me every day, telling me how sorry she was, that she missed everything about me, even my scent. That the animals missed me, that everything was wrong and she would do anything to get me out. I had my first bond hearing, I was denied bond due to the fact that a weapon was supposedly involved, the cops removed her from the court room before I got there because they said she was uncooperative, I called her right after and she was sobbing, saying that she was so sorry and she would get me a lawyer. The love letters I received from her in jail were truly heartbreaking, I cried reading them, cried writing them, I figured that this was going to be the one thing to show her that she needs to be more responsible and value me more. I spent my birthday in jail, lost a massive amount of weight. I became skin and bones. Eventually I got another bond hearing with the lawyer, he argued that I was no threat to anyone, that the supposed victim was going to plead the 5th, that I was never in trouble before and posed no risk to reoffend. I got out on bail. When I got out of custody, she immediately began shrieking in terror about what they did to me, grabbing onto me and the t shirt that was more or less wrapped around a broomstick. Going to the car, I asked her stuff that I didn't want to say over the jail recorded phone, I asked her what really happened, how did they know certain details about me that only we knew, she told me "this is what I get for getting you out", she then told me that she actually did tell the cops that I did hit her because she thought that the cops would just give us a good talking to like it was in her state. I almost choked but figured I had no other option but make lemons out of lemonade, I didn't have my license yet, and I needed to make that court date, I could not leave, my family and I weren't talking. A day or two before court, during a disagreement she said "you know, I could put your ass back in jail" and then immediately apologized. Court day came, she thought the best way to act would be to show up like she was crazy, didn't care, wore a graphic tee that would basically say "I don't care about court". The court determined that it would be best to hand me over to anger management and domestic violence classes and get rid of the charges and probation.
She asked if she could marry me and I agreed, I thought she would change, I thought she would not hurt me anymore, she would act different. I was happy coming out of court and I had to schedule the classes. In the coming weeks, coming home it was ole sweet home again, she was very good to me, took me out to dinner almost every day, sex was great. Then the day before the first class, she told me to talk nothing of what happened. I asked her how I would do that. She told me that she would beat the shit out of the woman counsellor if she thought I said anything to her. So after the first session, I did spill the beans to the counselor, as honestly I felt like I was all alone and wanted someone to talk to. The counselor told me that the situation was repairable and that she looked forward to helping me deal with her anger, that she may have BPD and she believed that this actually happened to me. After leaving the first session, Sarah immediately started questioning me about what I told her, that she knew I said something, she was very angry, I told her that I just talked about what led to it, like she said, she walked into the complex saying "she just wanted to have some words with her about what really happened". I sat in the car, almost helpless. She came back, saying that she was just mad that I would talk to someone about us, I explained to her that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Things generally got better, I got a job, a very hard job. Long hours, decent pay, and little time at home. I got my license and got a car. Then the worst happened, someone stole our dog, it hit her very hard, it was awful. I was driving around all over and leaving leaflets. Around this time, she began having trouble at work with another girl. She was mad sometimes, slept a lot, was smoking a lot of pot. One day, we were arguing about something and I was trying to get some sleep. She hovered over me and said "demons see demons, I know what you are, you need to leave, there is something wrong with my mind, I imagine ripping the flesh off your face and eating it, dismembering you in the bathtub", I chalked it up to the stress at work, that I loved her, and she was under a lot of stress and had a troubled life. My caretaking tendencies getting in the way of my common sense, I know. This was a dangerous situation, I know. I just felt so alone and felt like If I loved her enough that we could get her help.
So one day, she looked at my phone and there was porn on it, I was ashamed and chalked it up to the fact that sometimes I had an urge and she was at work. She flipped out, broke my computer cord, then bought it on amazon the same night. I was working 6 day weeks, at least 60 hour weeks, 1hrs 20 minutes both way. I was very tired and not at home much. I noticed she began to get very protective over her phone. I asked her what was going on and she denied anything. Then it began that she would not be there when I got home. I was working from 8:30 PM at night to about 10-1 in the afternoon the next day. She was still not at home. One day, when she got up, I grabbed her phone and ran into my car to look through her messages, she started slamming on my door and window, I found messages and calls to one particular number almost as much as me. I asked who it was, she denied anything. So one day, she admitted to me that she was hanging out with one guy, that he played the "daddy role" really well, I didn't know what to say, I could never have imagined this. After all we have been through. I begged, I pleaded. I would sit out smoking after I got out of work, waiting for her, maybe hours to come home, she would pull up and say "I feel like shit", " I don't want to do this to you", "I'm in love with two people". One day, she tells me that she went crazy after her dog got stolen and that she was done putting me through this. A week went by. One day, when she was asleep, her phone buzzed, I picked it up, it was the other guy, she was talking to him the entire week when she said that she wasn't talking to him anymore, the "i love yous" and so on all the time, "I miss you". She then told me that she would get a protective order on me if I contacted the other man, I didn't have any money to move out and didn't want to mess up my probation. So that night after me arguing with her, she said "she just wanted a night to think" in a motel. I begged her to stay and that I didn't know why she was doing this to us, what did I do wrong... That night she left, I kick myself for doing this but I drove to every motel in the area looking for her car. I could not find her, I began to drove home and saw one right up the road from our house. I thought, she could not be that bold. I pulled up, surely her car was there, I saw a car parked next to hers that I think belonged to the other man judging by the music stickers. I walked past the doors, I heard my dogs wagging their tails, it was just fate that door handle was broken on that room. When I opened up that door, I heard a scream, I saw them in bed together and him jumping up putting his shirt on and he jumped in the corner of the room. She then screamed "Call the cops", my dogs followed me outside with the door open, I sat there, waiting for her to retrieve the dogs. I told her that she broke my heart and that I was dead inside. She stayed there all night with him, knowing that I knew. She called the next day asking if she could come home and I told her that I was hurt. She swore that she did not sleep with him. She refused sex with me, said it would be cheating on him and that she was saving herself for him till they moved in together.
At this point I shut down, I told her I was not leaving, she could go move out with him since they felt such a connection, I would stay and build my life and find someone who would treat me better. One day, I put up an ad on craigslist, to try to get a date, I got a girl interested who wasn't a fake and sent me pictures. I told Sarah that I was going to see a girl for coffee since she checked out of the relationship. I was laying on the couch, she jumped on me, my face between her crotch as she began hitting me in the face and slapping me. Screaming "After all I did for you, you go with another bitch, fuck you". I didn't do a thing, I didn't move, I almost felt cleansed that I got some emotion out of her and I didn't do a thing back, it was all on her and her hypocrisy. She then told me not to do a thing back to her because "She knew how she could get me back in jail" She then asked me to ask the girl if it was alright that I was married and still living with my wife. I didn't go and see the girl because I figured it would add unnecessary stress and I could not give myself to anyone, I could not even do that to myself. One day while we were driving and doing errands, she called the other man, discussing that I was an ahole, about how she found a great property for them to look at, that it was her dream, being off grid, ... Then looking through my email that was connected to hers I saw her emailing people, saying "me and my boyfriend are looking for...". I just totally stopped caring, I figured this was it, I go to work, come home, sit outside, admire nature, and she can go leave for some spineless cheater coward. She would tell me about how bad he was to her with his friends, that they spilled beer on her and he didn't even apologize, I told her that I wasn't interested in being her emotional tampon anymore. She can cry to the pussy herself. After a few weeks, she seemed to be pursuing me , told me that she was not going to see him anymore. Then one day, I came home from work early, she wasn't there, said she needed to see him one last time to say goodbye because he was really hurt, then she said that he found a deer on the side of the road dying and she needed to go help him with it. I sat there, pissed off and betrayed yet again. I told her when she came home that this was it, she could have the place, have her cheating bf, they deserved one another. She went crazy, begging me to stay, started texting him from my phone, acting like it was me, saying all horrible things to him, I geuss it triggered him, he said that I would never understand their love, she said evil things back, then she deleted the conversation, saying that it was over for good. I told her the only way I would ever consider being with her is if we restarted our relationship, no hitting, no nothing, never a second chance again, and I also wanted an app on her phone so I could see she was being honest with me and not talking to anyone else.
She agreed. She actually fooled me for a while, we were getting along a lot better, she was more loving, some days she would break down and tell me how sorry she was for putting me through everything. I told her that I was beginning to see a change in her. She was being much more open, I knew she didn't have a second cell phone, she was actually being kind. We started dating again, travelled, got some more pets. We were both making good money. Things were going good. One day however, about 6 months after the 1st affair ended, yet another tree fell down on our property and our lines, I texted her that I was afraid to walk through the lines and if I didn't text her in 5 minutes to call the cops. I walked back up, texted her, nothing. I tried calling her again. and again. I looked on the app, she was 40 miles away from her work. I actually worried about her safety, I thought with her job, what if someone grabbed her in the parking lot and took her to their house and were hurting her. I called the cops to see if she was ok, the cops went to the house, I got a call from her saying " stay out of my life, I only keep you around to watch the dogs", this time, instead of anguish, I was just numb. I thought I should be sad and crying but I wasn't. Then she calls back and apologizes saying that she went home with a customer to do the same things she does in the club (lapdances) just for more of a cut instead of the club getting it. I was furious that she kept it from me. She offered never to see him again. She told me she was getting $600 a night to go out with this short crippled guy to dinner then do a lapdance. I thought as much as her job hurts me, that I rather her do this than make little money at the club when she could make more money in one night than some weeks of work. I said it was ok, I had a bad feeling but I trusted her. Time goes on, out of nowhere she tells me that she needs to do something for me, that she met this girl at the club who would be interested in a threesome, I thought no no no, that's a relationship a bomb, and told her I only loved her and only wanted to be with her. So time goes on, about 2 months. One day, she comes home with bruises on her breasts and on her legs. My heart sank, I checked through her internet history, I saw nothing but incest related daddy daughter porn, BDSM, spanking. I was mad because we both agreed porn was bad for our relationship and she would scream at me and even got violent one time she caught me looking at porn. I confronted her, what she told me literally made me puke. She told me that she was actually going over this guys house because he was a sadist and he would beat her up, spank her, and slap her while she called him daddy and master and her called her slave, toy, and little one. At this point she still denies any sexual contact. I was devastated but it hurt less than the first time. She begged and pleaded with me to stay, saying she would kill herself, that she could not live without me, she would never see him again, we could get new phones, I could track her, she would stop stripping, she would not let me look at her phone though because she was "embarrassed". That was my maginot line, I said If I could not see her phone, we were over. She called him in front of me and made a very very weak leaving the door open "breakup". She told me in an attempt to make me stay that she was raped by her father repeatedly , he was the reason why she was sent away, and she did not want to relive her abuse through this man. I was hurt and needed a break, I drove 500 miles to my parents to cool off. She tells me she needs time to think, then stayed at his house for 4 days straight and when I asked whether they had sex, that "it was none of my business" and that I was a weak man and he hits her out of pleasure. She has sent me texts saying how "how come good things go bad" and "to find someone to isn't damaged and will love and respect me like I deserve"... Now she tells me she is afraid of me and even if she broke up with her sugar daddy that she would not be with me.
I went through her facebook because I felt something was not right, I found messages between her and somebody, she was talking to him like I was an abusive husband, saying that I purposefully tried to hurt her car, I never did such a thing. So I called the number on the messages that person left her, I on the whim geussed it was that facebook friend that slept over our house. It was him, he told me that night she had sexual contact with him while I was sleeping, telling him that she loved me as a friend and that she really loved him. He told me that she planned to go on a road trip with him . This is when it really sunk into me that she lied and put me into jail right when they were talking like this, that what if she put me in jail just so she could be with this guy, he thought that she put me in jail because I found out about them, when I was just learning this a year later. She married me and kept this a secret from me, I married her not knowing this. She has went completely no contact with me after I found out about her cheating on me before we were married and before I went to jail over her lies. She has told me that she is sorry that I crossed her path and that she is not going to change. I'm going to file for divorce and try to find out why I put up with this.
Am I dumb right now to feel depressed, I miss her but this was a toxic relationship, right? I can't help myself but still miss some of the good times, even though writing this makes me realize how bad I messed up. Please if you made it this far. Honest opinions, was this just virgin puppy love and someone who took advantage of me? What kind of person is my ex? Thank you.
TL:DR - My wife, cheated on me (and hid it) , put me in jail over lies, then went to cheat on me 2 more times.
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2015.07.06 20:43 tabledresser Mature moms topless

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Date: 2015-07-06
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Questions Answers
Sara, when you were first filming Popular, did you think it would attract such a cult following? That's a cool question! No, I don't think we even were aware of the possibility of cult status on the WB because everything was so fresh and new. So it just seemed like oh, this was going to be a teen show that teens watch and hopefully like. It was sort of pre-social media, so having a cult following was more rare then. The fact that people are still coming up to me. Even teens are coming up to me now and saying "I loved Popular!" and I'm like "you're 13, how did you even see it?" and they're like "Duh, DVDs."
It is amazing how much the show spoke to people, but I think it gave a voice to certain kinds of kids that had speaking up for themselves at the time.
So, what's it like being and actress? Is it what you hoped it would be? How do you like your new coworkers? I hate them.
Just kidding! The truth is, to answer the question "What's it like to be an actor" is kind of hard because I'm lucky enough to never have had to be anything else. But, I think I'm pretty lucky and I feel very very grateful to have gotten to work as much as I have for as long as I have. It's a crazy life but I love it.
The cast is stellar. I have fallen in love with them. We shot up in Vancouver so we were our only friends and it was just a really great group of people to spend a few months in a rainy city with.
Hi Sara! Thanks for being here today! Yes, I've had extensive baa-ing lessons over the years. It's a skill you have to keep fine-tuning, so I keep having to go back to baa-ing lessons over the year to make sure I'm still on my game.
How did you get started with Can't Hardly Wait, and did you get any say in your part in that movie? Did you have to take lessons or anything on "baa-ing" for it? They actually wrote that part for me, which was super cool of them. I had auditioned for a different role, and they didn't feel like I was right for that role, but they had liked what I did. So they called me and told me that the writers had written a small scene for me and asked me to do it. Such an honor, and who knew people would still be baa-ing in my face 15 years later!
When you were younger and you dreamed of acting professionally, you must have had ideas about what it would be like. Can you describe something from recent experience that is just as you imagined and something that is completely different? This is such a typical answer, but I always - even now, after acting for almost 30 years - expect it to be glamorous than it is. I'm always like, "Oh right, it's gross here, and we all look terrible, and it's 4 in the morning, and no one is at their best for those early calls."
But something that is just like I imagined is the feeling of total satisfaction and accomplishment when you shoot a scene and you feel really good about your work. It's the greatest feeling, and it's why I still do it. Being able to make someone feel anything - laugh, cry, anything - is really satisfying.
Your husband and daughter came with you to Vancouver when you were filming 'Impastor'. Sweet :) Did they enjoy the experience? They did. It was definitely a challenge for our family. She's two and the transition was a little rough in the beginning. But he is such a great dad and was so amazing with her when I had to work all the time, so I think they had a really great experience. The road trip up brought all of us closer together. Also, the cast was really great to Talulah. They made her feel included whenever she came to set, and I think she really liked visiting with them and getting to know them.
Hello Mrs. Rue, Thanks for doing the AMA, always good to see people I like doing the reddit tour. Just watched the pilot episode of Impastor, and I really liked it. How is it different then any other show you have been on?? Good or Bad. So glad you watched it and liked! Impastor is not only different than any other show I've been on, but I think it's different from any show that's been on TV. We are making a dark, weird, funny comedy but it has a lot of heart and also has taken on the gargantuan challenge of having a procedural element to it. Every week will end in a cliffhanger. So I guess, to answer your question, it's a totally new format, and I'm really excited to be a part of it. I hope you keep watching!
What was it like to be in The Big Bang Theory? So fun! Jim Parsons has become a very good friend of mine. I feel really lucky to have been a part of a little piece of TV history. That show is so huge, and all the people in the cast were really wonderful to work with. I've been working a little bit on Chuck Lorre's new show Mom, and that's equally as exciting. Especially getting to work with those ladies has been a blast.
Where is your favorite location to vacation? Hmmm, what resort should I say in hopes that they'll send me on a free trip? Kidding, kidding (not really), kidding.
Sadly, we don't take many vacations. Our family is spread out all over the country, so we spend most of our time visiting family.
BUT my dream vacation would be a free trip to Hawaii where I get free things and free drinks.
Is it the same working with Michael Rosenbaum on Impastor as it was working with him on Zoey, Duncan, Jack and jane? No, he's a producer on Impastor, so he has more power to wield.
Joking! I really adore Michael. We're both grown ups now, so it is different. We have a much more mature relationship (she says as she recalls him pulling down his pants and farting on her set chair, and her chewing up multiple tootsie rolls and spitting them on his chair to look like poo).
Do you go to conventions like Michael does? No, no I don't. I AM however, going to my first convention EVER on Thursday with Michael. He and I will be doing a panel at Comic-Con in San Diego. I hope people come down and ask some cool questions about Impastor. And I hope Michael lets me have a word in edgewise ;)
Since I've had a mega crush on you since Gypsy 83, what about your personal life matched with your character of that movie versus how you think now? I've always felt like there was a little bit of goth in me ever since I shot that film. I don't know about anything matching up in my personal life, but I will tell you that on the way to do this Reddit AMA, I thought I saw the club where we shot the Night of a Thousand Stevies sequence, and it made me super happy.
I loved Popular and felt very familiar with your character. What was it like to play her? I never went to high school in real life, because I was acting, so I was set-schooled. So playing Carmen was like going to high school for me, for better or worse. She took a lot of shit, but ultimately, I feel like she was an empowering character, so it was a really good experience.
Hi Sara! Do you still feel immense pressure to stay thin in Hollywood in order to get the parts you want or has that pressure subsided some since you have made a name for yourself? Of course, I'll be honest about it. There is a lot of pressure. I try really hard not to let it get to me, and concentrate more on health than anything else at this point. Most importantly, I want to set an example for my daughter of a strong, healthy, capable woman more than I want to stay thin for Hollywood.
I was gutted when Popular wasn't renewed for the third season. What do you think Carmen would have been up to if the show had continued? So glad the show spoke to you. We were all very bummed when it wasn't picked up for a third season, and very shocked. I remember that day we found it it was canceled, I went over to Leslie Grossman's house (who played Mary Cherry), and we both kind of sat and stared at the wall. I don't know what Carmen would have been up to. I really hope she would have been happy in whatever place she found herself.
Would Dora keep his secret to keep face? Maybe. But not to save face, but maybe if she felt it meant saving the church and the rest of the congregation from falling apart. I personally would love for Dora to be in on the secret somehow. Would be super fun to play.
What was your favorite moment on the set of Idiocracy? Watching Terry Crews do this big, long, hilarious monologue as the president. To be honest, I can't even remember if it made it in the movie or not. It was so hilarious, he is such a funny guy. I loved working with him.
Came back to ask another question and I am gonna ask and hope to not sound like a weirdo. What made you decide to do the topless scenes in For Christ's Sake?? You don't sound like a weirdo. Maybe a pit of a perv ;)
I thought the script was hilarious. My friend was the producer, and I had a lot of input, and I felt like it was appropriate for the role. She was a porn star and my boobs are fantastic.
Loved you on Rules Of Engagement & The Big Bang Theory, who's your inspiration for getting into acting? I started acting when I was a little girl. My parents were in the theater, and I grew up watching incredible performers and wanting to be a part of the magic. So no one person necessarily, it was just a feeling backstage.
Who is the funniest person you have worked with? That's a really good question. I know Rosenbaum would want me to say him, but I'm not going to. My buddy Will Sasso is pretty f-ing funny. Also, Ike Barinholtz is pretty great.
Do you think Michael Rosenbaum is planning any pranks for you and your chair for when you all go back to film season two of Impastor? Rosenbaum is not much of a planner. I'm sure I'll have to endure something gross and dumb. We did have so much fun season one, even though I had to put up with his antics, I really hope we get a chance to do it again.
What's the craziest, funniest thing that has happened in the set of Impastor? Michael Rosenbaum wrote a little theme song for Impastor, which we performed for the crew. I think we have it on video somewhere, maybe we'll upload it after this AMA :)
Last updated: 2015-07-10 20:21 UTC
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2015.04.08 23:44 wimwood Mature moms topless

My stepson is with us about 80% of the time. His Mom is a hot mess and has lots of stuff going on emotionally, as well as legal issues right now. It's a good thing he is here, and it's hard that we have to worry about the small percentage of time he is even with his Mom.
However, recently she has asked to go back to 50-50 (has not had 50-50 in over two years) because she thinks it will make her look better for court and possibly avoid jail. My partner agreed to it. I wholeheartedly disagree, but it's not my place... even with 20% of time with her (and that is an average - some months she has only seen him 3 days and her best month ever she took him a total of 12 days) it is still complete crap time where he is left to his own devices and has no structure, chores, supervision or really any interaction at all.
She has only had 50-50 back for two weeks and already shit is starting that makes me want to just kick her in the vagina. First, we find out he is home alone on her Sundays from 6a-3p. He is nine years old and doesn't have a house phone. So her bid for 50-50 wasn't even to actually spend the time parenting, but to simply be able to say that he is at her house half the time, whether she's there or not. That's annoying and bordering on neglectful parenting, except that my partner fixed it by simply going and picking him up on Sunday mornings after she has left for work since she can't exactly stop him. Next, today stepson brought home an essay from school. It was a narrative. His chosen topic was "how I met friend on GTA 5". GTA 5 is grand theft auto 5, a video game rated for Mature audiences, which is ages 17 and up. He is fucking 9. The friend he met is another online player. He came home in trouble because the teacher of course freaked out over the content of his essay, which is meeting a random stranger in a virtual world, graphically explaining how he shot him 22 times with a gun, and how they are now "bros." Not only is the game WAY inappropriate, but it goes against everything they are teaching at school (and we are at home) about how strangers on the internet are not your damn friends. And of course, they can't even mention the word Gun at school, let alone write a whole essay graphically outlining shooting someone. My partner's head pretty much exploded. Suffice it to say, he obviously does NOT play those types of games at our house and at NO time is allowed to interact verbally with strangers online. So, he's playing this game at his Moms and according to him it's his favorite. That's nice to know he's playing a game that is explained by the developers as Blood and Gore, Intense Violence, Mature Humor, Nudity, Strong Language, Strong Sexual Content, Use of Drugs and Alcohol. It includes sex with prostitutes, topless dances in strip clubs, implied oral sex, and males with exposed genitalia.
Then tonight his homework comes up. Now that he is with Mom 50-50 again, that means he does homework at her house every other night. Mom has the insight and parenting skills of a stick of wood, and stepson knows this and takes advantage of it. His homework was to illustrate his favorite scene from a 3-page play he had to read. So he drew two fucking stick figures saying "LOL." It took him about 12 seconds. When I saw what he had done, I asked him to redo it (this packet isn't due until Friday) and his protest is "but my Mom checked my homework." Well your Mom sucks, kid. Your Mom dropped out of high school and is facing her second DUI and apparently doesn't want any better for you. But I can't say that. So my response is, "do you think that is what your teacher is expecting you to give her?" And of course he says no.. so again, please redo it to the level that will please your teacher. And now I'm the bad guy.
The thing is he KNOWS his Mom doesn't give a shit. He LOVES it because it allows him to just skate by on stuff like this. He LOVES that he has unlimited hours of play on the internet (we already had to have a serious talk with him about choosing not to play games he KNOWS are inappropriate, even if an adult isn't stopping him - that was after he told us about his time on MineCraft Drug World) and no bedtime and he can take .04 seconds to draw a stick figure and be told it's good enough. I just want to shake her for being 'that' parent. This boy deserves better, and we shouldn't always be in the position of being the hardasses in comparison to her complete lack of effort. We really aren't hardasses!
His Dad is making him rewrite the entire essay on a suitable topic, despite the fact that it's already been graded. He is PISSED and told us "I get to go to my Moms tomorrow." Well great, in that case you can look forward to re-doing homework on Friday night as well. Congratulations.
I am completely venting here and I KNOW there is no real solution other than to be consistent and good role models and let time and wisdom teach him why and how we are different than his Mom. I just need to vent. I want what is best for him and it seems as though when he looks at the example of what is Good versus what is Easy he goes for easy every time and that really really worries me. Rant over. Thanks for having a stepparenting board at all, reddit.
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