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It all started 5 years ago when I was 14( I know I was young. Please hear me out). I met this great guy who I instantly fell for. He was 21 at the time and everything about him seemed SO perfect. I kept talking to him for a while and we decided to go out for coffee. At 14 I gotta say I would always receive compliments on my looks and I admit, at the time it felt really good knowing I was so appreciated. So this guy was so mysterious and good-looking and intelligent- he had it all going for him. Obviously, he didn’t want to date me because I was way too young, but I did end up losing my virginity to him. The following year we kept talking and I had many other s***** partners, but all I could think of was him. I would always comfort myself and say it’s just a teenage crush, but being with him for the rest of my life seemed to be the only thing I wanted. A year after losing it to him, we started a serious relationship that he was still unsure of because he felt guilty for dating such a young girl. Some time went by ( around 6 months) and he was fooled by one of his friends into thinking I had cheated on him. This man who had been the most loving, sincere, faithful person, hit me badly, it was like he was possessed, the look he had in his eyes was scary. I couldn’t believe what was happening – was this the same man I was in a relationship with?

I decided to let it go and forgive him. The next few months he would always cry on my chest and resent himself for what he had done and promise he would never lash out like that again and that he deserves to ” rot in hell ” as he would put it. During our 4 year long relationship he never again landed his hand on me.

These four years were the most amazing years of my life. Everyone, and I mean everyone was jealous of what we had. I stood by him through everything, I helped him quit smoking pot, I helped him restore his relationship with his parents, I took him on vacations he didn’t have to pay a dime for, he even got a brand new car with my help. I did all these things because our connection was so deep on so many levels, being able to just sit at home and hug eachother for hours without saying a word felt like heaven to both of us. I loved him unconditionally. If he said he wanted to have s** with another woman – I would have said ” Go ahead! People have needs”. We were together all the time and it was amazing, s** was great, we were so good for eachother. None of us EVER cheated on eachother. I would have given my life for him, his needs were ALWAYS placed in front of mine and that made me genuinely happy, knowing that he is happy and well. I would lie for him, look after his stuff ( he had a habit of losing his keys, wallet, money, break stuff etc), anything for him.

Some of his flaws, I could never get over. Like how he would make a complete fool of himself whenever he got drunk. Or how he wouldn’t listen to what I needed when he was drunk. He’d wake me up at 4 a.m saying how he’s in front of my place and I should come down and sleep over, being aware of the fact that I wouldn’t do that out of respect for my parents. If I said no, he’d get upset and say I don’t care, and in the morning he’d apologize and we’d get over it. Also, I couldn’t get over the fact that he got himself into SO much trouble because of his constant drinking and driving.

I couldn’t get over the fact that I always felt untrusted by him. This might not have been true, but that’s how I felt. Whenever he wanted to, he could and would emotionally blackmail me. This was so toxic for me, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I couldn’t get over the fact that I would massage his entire body, head to toe, every.single.morning and he just took it for granted.

I couldn’t stand his parents. So annoying. Both of them. Him a macho and a cheater, she – a whiny b**** who’d always complain about EVERYFUCKINGTHING.

I couldn’t stand how he NEVER admitted to his wrongs. I would say I’m sorry for everything and still he would behave upset for a little while.

This year, end of senior year in highschool, I started falling in love with a guy from my class right before prom. This scared the hell out of me. My boyfriend had not been feeling well and wouldn’t listen to me when I told him to go to therapy because I knew that what he had ( insomnia ) was not an illness to be treated with meds since it was caused by his sudden weed withdrawal. Because of being sleep deprivated, he started getting tachycardia too. Because of the heart meds, his libido dropped 100%. No s** at all for us. He wouldn’t even let me give him head.

This guy I started falling in love with was so amazing to me. We had never really talked when we were in highschool since I had eyes for no one else besides my boyfriend, but I always found him as a very attractive guy.

Because my relationship was slowly falling apart with neither of us doing anything about it, I caved in to this “new” guy and slept with him. It felt like the best thing that I had ever done in my entire life, no one had ever made me feel like he did, it was simply amazing in so many ways. He made me completely forget about my boyfriend.

The next day I felt incredibly guilty about what I had done, I didn’t even want to meet my boyfriend because I couldn’t even look him in the eye. So, 2 days after having cheated on him, I decided to break up with him. Hardest thing I ever had to do. We met up, he bought me roses, and we cried in eachother’s arms for 2 hours. He drove me home, kissed me goodbye and that was it. I never told him about me cheating on him because I didn’t want to hurt him even more.

The next few months I went on with my new relationship, so in love and all that and happy that I had finally made a good call in my life. Unfortunately, with this new guy I couldn’t be at all times as I was used to. We wouldn’t sleep over and it felt so weird for me. I started missing my man, his kiss, the words he’d say to me, the way we’d be so goofy around eachother and how he’d hold me at night. I was home alone for about two weeks and at night I would scream in pain from missing him so badly. I would cry my eyes out and drink myself to sleep. I couldn’t take it anymore so I texted him. We met up and his scent just killed me… when he walked through the door and I looked him in the eye…my heart stopped beating, my hands were shaking while I was smoking my cigarette and my eyes were watering. He asked why I was trembling like that. I couldn’t say a word to that.

We started seeing eachother everyday after that, just keeping it casual and friendly, until one night I wanted him so badly and I asked if I could sleep over. He said yes. We ended up having s** and after that, me crying for hours and hours like a baby. I kept lying to my boyfriend and was seeing my ex every night for a month, I was so filled with guilt and hated myself for it, but just couldn’t stop. I had missed feeling at home so badly and I didn’t want to lose that feeling again.

Eventually, we stopped seeing eachother of talking to eachother for a month, until two nights ago when I caved in AGAIN and texted him. Same story, went by his place, cried my heart out telling him how badly I want to love again but simply cannot, slept with him for two nights. Tonight I am alone at home and I wanted to share my story because otherwise I would probably call him and end up at his place again. While I was typing this, he called me, he was drunk and driving and wanted to come pick me up, but I said no and asked him to call me when he gets home.

He’s been sleeping around with other girls since we broke up, so now he probably just called one of them to go have s**, since I called to check on him and he was still out and said he’d call in a little while.

I want to stop. See, this thing he just did, calling me drunk like that, reminded me of why I broke up with him in the first place. It made me sick to my stomach hearing him like that.

I hate myself for cheating on my actual boyfriend. He is such a great guy and doesn’t deserve someone like me. He should be with someone who genuinely cares and loves him, like I did my ex. I want to be like this for him too, but I just don’t think I can anymore. I shouldn’t have gotten into a serious relationship so soon after my ex, but I had no idea that things would turn out like this. I fear that my power to love was all spent on my ex and that I will never love again. I fear I have cared so much for him that I won’t be able to care anymore and put someone else’s needs in front of mine. I fear I have become a heartless b****. I fear only my ex could bring back the love I had in my soul. It feels like I left my heart with him when I left him, it feels like strings pulling me back to him. I hate how I cry every night. I can’t even tell him I don’t wanna see him anymore because I know he’ll say I’m a b**** for being like that. Is he right? I don’t know.

I want to love my actual boyfriend, I want to forget about my ex but my entire body HURTS only when I imagine having lost something so rare and beautiful.

Am I an awful person? Do I deserve to hurt like this? What has this man done to me that I can’t get him out of my head and heart?

I hate myself.

I’m sorry for the long post. Thank you if you read all of it.

New Confession

Many parts to this with the guilt. My mother left (didnt like being a mother) when i was 3 and dad remarried when i was 5. Just kids being kids, the neighbor girl same age as me across the street, we got caught showing each other, just dumb naive curious kids. Her mother caught us and talked to my stepmom and we got told no big deal just dont do that any more. We got caught doing it again but this time she was holding and examining my piddly little boy e r e ction close up and we both got spanked and we were never left to play unsupervised again. Learned much later in life that neither her mother or my stepmom told our fathers. I was an aberrant kid, would randomly take my clothes off when playing in th e back yard for example (it was very private with high fences amd hedges). So i was a handful for my stepmom, no argument. I would get bare bottom spanked but was not otherwise treated harshly. My behavior was the problem. I get older puberty hits and i have new aberrant behaviors as i learn my body. Without a long story of that, the important part is that one day when i was 13 my stepmom sees out the window that i am naked on my back in back yard m a s turbating and i got the worst spanking ever head down a** up on my bed. I simply got smarter and sneakier. When i was just shy of 15 she sees me in the back yard on the bottom of a 69 with our dog (male same as i was). Obviously not what most parents or step parents expect or sign up for. But she still cared enough to not narc me to dad. I got my backside lit up almost as bad. But she was def worried about what i was doing and how it was escalating. New rules system. I had to tell her when i felt a s***** urge and she would monitor real time ma s tur bation no contact just supervising so that i did not get out of control . If dad was home, she sort of had a sense of when i was feeling that way and she literally gave me a subtle hand sign to use and i got a light spanking that dad would hear and know what was going on. If i gave her that hand sign she would tell dad she had caught me touching myself earlier in the day but always wanted him to know so that he could weigh in iif he was when she took me to my room to give me that lesser spanking she would spank me not too hard and pull my g e nitals back between my legs and m a s turbate me quickly and furiously while i was still assuming the position. Over time she sat me down and gave me the talk that she felt i was confusing spanking and that quick jerk from her as an enjoyable act out to get her to do it for me. She said she was actually proud of me when i asked her one evening once i was ready for the spanking if she would please only spank me and not touch me otherwise, she said that she felt like i was learning and maturing by finding a way that even if it was not really normal i was at least learning to not be a slave to my urges to pleasure myself. Eventually even the daytime dad not home asking if i could touch myself stopped being a problem, and when i would tell her i had the urge during the daytime it became me asking her to just spank me. So m a s turbation stopped for a long time even though most days with or without dad home the spankings were my outlet. Dad was just a dad of the times and left my stepmom in charge of me. But eventually i could not fight the urge and she caught me with the dog again (my room this time). I was 15. Newer rule system….she became my outlet for urges. Taught me that i enjoyed someone else,’s pleasure more than my own. Taught me how to have and enjoy s** without degrading myself. Taught me to be a man to a woman in her bed aa equals, not just to protect or save me from my youthful perverted acts. I will always remember the sheer shock to my system the first time she had me lay on her and what it felt like when she guided me inside her. How she smiled up at me when i felt the heat and warmth of being inside her, how she told me to be still and moved her hips under me and told me doesnt this beat doing those other dirty things? I matured as a human beimg very quickly in her bed. I rarely wanted to touch myself but now if i waa asking for se x with her it wasnup to her whether we did that or whether i just got spanked. I lived at home through college and she was the only woman i was with before marriage and i have always known it was because of her that i ever became enough of a man to be able to date love and marry. I have always been eternally grateful to her. Which is also why when dad died i was honored to go back to fulfilling her needs when she asked. And still do happily to this day. I was 15 when she first took me into her bed, she is 15 years older than me. Now i am in mynearlu 60s and she is in her late 70s.

The guilt parts? The girl across the street i was caught showing and being shown? She became trouble. Promiscuous drugs booze pregnant. Rough life. I asked my stepmom once if i was to blame even in part, i felt so bad for her. My stepmom said kids doing that is so common that that did not explain it. The other guilt? No idea if my dad ever knew his wife and i were lovers for years. Stepmom and i talked about it only once right after dad died. She only told me that he was grateful she had gotten me off the bad behavior roller coaster. Stepmom said he probably knew but didnt want to know and that it never was an issue to him or between them. My wife never was highly s***** and stepmom and i have discussed that she probably realizes but as long as my wife is not expected to be s***** with me, she may be relieved that someone else keeps her from having to engage s******* with me. That seems self serving for my stepmom to say but i suppose it may well be true.

The funny part? About a year or so after my stepmom took me to her bed to train me to not degrade myself doing what i was doing with the dog, she asked for the whole story of how that all came about. When i had told her how i got there she admitted she was turned on and had never gotten it out of her head because it was such an extreme outlier. I told her that i knew it was disgusting amd degrading myself even as i did it but that it did not stop the immersion into pure lust and carnal bliss of it. Very short version….the way she talked about it i could just tell. So one day i did not ask i just gave her an encore to watch and since it was not the initial shock, she was fascinated. Fascinated enough that eventually with my assistance she gave it a try herself more than once. She found it so purely carnal and taboo that she feared being addicted to it. I def understood that. As the dog was mounted and in her she was not quite speechless with the sheer shock of what she was doing but she did tell me afterwards that she now understood how the sheer raw lust and purely raw s***** feel of it made the shame and taboo and disgust go right out the window. She ended up still enjoying watching me do it though, and even asked if i would be willing to let her watch the dog mount me. Was not the only time she got to watch that but i helped her experience it a number of times. I kept my promise to her that i would never do those things without her presence and she admitted it was a blend of enjoying watching it as well as now that she understood how easy it was to lose herself in it she also wanted to not risk me slippiing even further down that slippery slope. But while over the years we explored each others curiosities most of our time together was simply enjoying our bodies together with mutual respect comfort and even a degree of love. We are more frequently enjoying ourselves with dad gone than we did after my marriage s** ended, we were not lovers for years after i married, only resuming when my wife terminated our physical realtionship verbally, not just by silent rejection or lack of interest. It was my stepmother that suggested we resume being lovers when she learned of my wife’s decision even though dad was still alive. I was not man enough to decline whether for my wife’s, father’s, ot stepmom’s sake. I suppose that is a failure and form of guilt as well.

My stepmom asked me about that once, and i told her to remember the purity of lust we both experienced during the activities with the dog, but that i also saw it as a true passion and deep affection of the same intensity and respect for each other. It has never come up again. We trauma bonded when dad died as only we could, and if the day comes she no longer wishes to be lovers i wjll respect it and try to find a sane way to learn to m********* comfortably again. For now i simply cherish when we get our time what it is like to slip into her arms and her body and feel alive with each other again. To have that shared comfort and peace and joy. We almost never speak until after, but we then talk about anytbing as only the most comfortable lifelong lovers can. Despite our ages and limited times together, my god, feeling her warm alive loving and moving with me is every time, as breathtaking snd joyous as that first time when i was 15 and she first wlecomed me as her lover. Every time i feel her arms and legs wrap around me and feel the heat of slipping gently into her, i am that same 15 year old being welcomed by her all over again. When she sighs in my ear breathlessly and tells me welcome back, that she is happy to have her man again, to hear her breath quicken and groan to tell me when to give it to her, release in her, give her what has always been hers. Perhaps it was not just about saving me from my degenerate behavior only. And every now and then, when she wants to take a trip down memory lane, she will ask if she can spank me, and i am head down a** up immediately. I never know when she will reach down and pull me back between my legs as my cheeks burn and she pulls it out of me as she continues to warm my bottom up as only she can.

Related Confessions

Many parts to this with the guilt. My mother left (didnt like being a mother) when i was 3 and dad remarried when i was 5. Just kids being kids, the neighbor girl same age as me across the street, we got caught showing each other, just dumb naive curious kids. Her mother caught us and talked to my stepmom and we got told no big deal just dont do that any more. We got caught doing it again but this time she was holding and examining my piddly little boy e r e ction close up and we both got spanked and we were never left to play unsupervised again. Learned much later in life that neither her mother or my stepmom told our fathers. I was an aberrant kid, would randomly take my clothes off when playing in th e back yard for example (it was very private with high fences amd hedges). So i was a handful for my stepmom, no argument. I would get bare bottom spanked but was not otherwise treated harshly. My behavior was the problem. I get older puberty hits and i have new aberrant behaviors as i learn my body. Without a long story of that, the important part is that one day when i was 13 my stepmom sees out the window that i am naked on my back in back yard m a s turbating and i got the worst spanking ever head down a** up on my bed. I simply got smarter and sneakier. When i was just shy of 15 she sees me in the back yard on the bottom of a 69 with our dog (male same as i was). Obviously not what most parents or step parents expect or sign up for. But she still cared enough to not narc me to dad. I got my backside lit up almost as bad. But she was def worried about what i was doing and how it was escalating. New rules system. I had to tell her when i felt a s***** urge and she would monitor real time ma s tur bation no contact just supervising so that i did not get out of control . If dad was home, she sort of had a sense of when i was feeling that way and she literally gave me a subtle hand sign to use and i got a light spanking that dad would hear and know what was going on. If i gave her that hand sign she would tell dad she had caught me touching myself earlier in the day but always wanted him to know so that he could weigh in iif he was when she took me to my room to give me that lesser spanking she would spank me not too hard and pull my g e nitals back between my legs and m a s turbate me quickly and furiously while i was still assuming the position. Over time she sat me down and gave me the talk that she felt i was confusing spanking and that quick jerk from her as an enjoyable act out to get her to do it for me. She said she was actually proud of me when i asked her one evening once i was ready for the spanking if she would please only spank me and not touch me otherwise, she said that she felt like i was learning and maturing by finding a way that even if it was not really normal i was at least learning to not be a slave to my urges to pleasure myself. Eventually even the daytime dad not home asking if i could touch myself stopped being a problem, and when i would tell her i had the urge during the daytime it became me asking her to just spank me. So m a s turbation stopped for a long time even though most days with or without dad home the spankings were my outlet. Dad was just a dad of the times and left my stepmom in charge of me. But eventually i could not fight the urge and she caught me with the dog again (my room this time). I was 15. Newer rule system….she became my outlet for urges. Taught me that i enjoyed someone else,’s pleasure more than my own. Taught me how to have and enjoy s** without degrading myself. Taught me to be a man to a woman in her bed aa equals, not just to protect or save me from my youthful perverted acts. I will always remember the sheer shock to my system the first time she had me lay on her and what it felt like when she guided me inside her. How she smiled up at me when i felt the heat and warmth of being inside her, how she told me to be still and moved her hips under me and told me doesnt this beat doing those other dirty things? I matured as a human beimg very quickly in her bed. I rarely wanted to touch myself but now if i waa asking for se x with her it wasnup to her whether we did that or whether i just got spanked. I lived at home through college and she was the only woman i was with before marriage and i have always known it was because of her that i ever became enough of a man to be able to date love and marry. I have always been eternally grateful to her. Which is also why when dad died i was honored to go back to fulfilling her needs when she asked. And still do happily to this day. I was 15 when she first took me into her bed, she is 15 years older than me. Now i am in mynearlu 60s and she is in her late 70s.

The guilt parts? The girl across the street i was caught showing and being shown? She became trouble. Promiscuous drugs booze pregnant. Rough life. I asked my stepmom once if i was to blame even in part, i felt so bad for her. My stepmom said kids doing that is so common that that did not explain it. The other guilt? No idea if my dad ever knew his wife and i were lovers for years. Stepmom and i talked about it only once right after dad died. She only told me that he was grateful she had gotten me off the bad behavior roller coaster. Stepmom said he probably knew but didnt want to know and that it never was an issue to him or between them. My wife never was highly s***** and stepmom and i have discussed that she probably realizes but as long as my wife is not expected to be s***** with me, she may be relieved that someone else keeps her from having to engage s******* with me. That seems self serving for my stepmom to say but i suppose it may well be true.

The funny part? About a year or so after my stepmom took me to her bed to train me to not degrade myself doing what i was doing with the dog, she asked for the whole story of how that all came about. When i had told her how i got there she admitted she was turned on and had never gotten it out of her head because it was such an extreme outlier. I told her that i knew it was disgusting amd degrading myself even as i did it but that it did not stop the immersion into pure lust and carnal bliss of it. Very short version….the way she talked about it i could just tell. So one day i did not ask i just gave her an encore to watch and since it was not the initial shock, she was fascinated. Fascinated enough that eventually with my assistance she gave it a try herself more than once. She found it so purely carnal and taboo that she feared being addicted to it. I def understood that. As the dog was mounted and in her she was not quite speechless with the sheer shock of what she was doing but she did tell me afterwards that she now understood how the sheer raw lust and purely raw s***** feel of it made the shame and taboo and disgust go right out the window. She ended up still enjoying watching me do it though, and even asked if i would be willing to let her watch the dog mount me. Was not the only time she got to watch that but i helped her experience it a number of times. I kept my promise to her that i would never do those things without her presence and she admitted it was a blend of enjoying watching it as well as now that she understood how easy it was to lose herself in it she also wanted to not risk me slippiing even further down that slippery slope. But while over the years we explored each others curiosities most of our time together was simply enjoying our bodies together with mutual respect comfort and even a degree of love. We are more frequently enjoying ourselves with dad gone than we did after my marriage s** ended, we were not lovers for years after i married, only resuming when my wife terminated our physical realtionship verbally, not just by silent rejection or lack of interest. It was my stepmother that suggested we resume being lovers when she learned of my wife’s decision even though dad was still alive. I was not man enough to decline whether for my wife’s, father’s, ot stepmom’s sake. I suppose that is a failure and form of guilt as well.

My stepmom asked me about that once, and i told her to remember the purity of lust we both experienced during the activities with the dog, but that i also saw it as a true passion and deep affection of the same intensity and respect for each other. It has never come up again. We trauma bonded when dad died as only we could, and if the day comes she no longer wishes to be lovers i wjll respect it and try to find a sane way to learn to m********* comfortably again. For now i simply cherish when we get our time what it is like to slip into her arms and her body and feel alive with each other again. To have that shared comfort and peace and joy. We almost never speak until after, but we then talk about anytbing as only the most comfortable lifelong lovers can. Despite our ages and limited times together, my god, feeling her warm alive loving and moving with me is every time, as breathtaking snd joyous as that first time when i was 15 and she first wlecomed me as her lover. Every time i feel her arms and legs wrap around me and feel the heat of slipping gently into her, i am that same 15 year old being welcomed by her all over again. When she sighs in my ear breathlessly and tells me welcome back, that she is happy to have her man again, to hear her breath quicken and groan to tell me when to give it to her, release in her, give her what has always been hers. Perhaps it was not just about saving me from my degenerate behavior only. And every now and then, when she wants to take a trip down memory lane, she will ask if she can spank me, and i am head down a** up immediately. I never know when she will reach down and pull me back between my legs as my cheeks burn and she pulls it out of me as she continues to warm my bottom up as only she can.