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1.
Picture for my EX (00000009)
2 comments
3.2/5 (846 Votes)
My (now) ex girlfriend cheated on me 4 times in our long distance relationship. She confessed this in a silly letter:

Dear Robert, I have to break up with you. The distance between us is too far. I also have to confess I cheated on you 4 times since you have left and that isn't right for either of is. Sorry. Please return my picture to me? Thanks, Nadja.

Admitted, I felt like shit for a while, but I really wanted to come out on top in this issue, so I went to all my mates & friends and collected all pictures I could get; sisters, girlfriends, aunts, cousins. I stuck the ones of the pretty ladies, together with hers, in an envelop. 57 pictures. I sent a note with it:

Dear Nadja, I am sorry, but I can't remember who you are. Please take the right picture out and send the rest back. Ciao. Robert.

It felt GREAT!

Posted on 07.02.2007, 13:08:42 CET
2.
Twin Deal (00000015)
1 comments
3.1/5 (504 Votes)
My identical twin and myself are shagging the same woman for the last 2 weeks without her noticing the difference.
Tags: Lust Family

Posted on 25.06.2007, 03:48:40 CET
3.
Wrong Kind of Fame (00000063)
1 comments
3.0/5 (359 Votes)
I (w/27) must confess that I have a small supporting role in a German television series. Now and then it happens that somebody recognizes me on the street, never mind that my part is so small that they don't know my name or can't quite remember the series. Then, mostly they say something like "I know you from somewhere," or "aren't you on TV?" When it's a male accompanied by girlfriend or wife I respond without fail "sorry, I only do porn movies."
Tags: Lie Media

Posted on 29.09.2009, 15:27:55 CET
Place: Berlin, Germany
4.
Shopping with my wife (00000016)
1 comments
3.0/5 (591 Votes)
When my wife and myself went to bed last week we started to touch each other under the blankets, kissing and hugging. I was getting really horny and thought she was feeling the same as this was clearly sexually tinted. In that same moment she says to me: I'm not interested in making love, all I want is for you to hold me. "What?" was my immediate response. Of course she had to sue the magic words: "You just don't understand the emotional needs of a woman." I gave in and no sex was to be had that night. The next day, my wife and I went window-shopping in the city center. She tried 3 very pretty and very expensive dresses in one of the local shops. When she couldn't decide, I told her to take all 3. She looked at me like she was seeing cows fly, but, motivated by my understanding words she stated she would than also need a pair of new shoes, which unfortunately would cost around 200 Euro. "No problem, of course" was my response. When we passed by the jewelers department she went in and came back with a gold and diamond bracelet. You guys should have seen her. She was deliriously happy. She probably thought I was off my chuck, but she didn't care. I must have ruined her whole psychological understanding of the male when I said yes again. She was almost sexually aroused at this stage. With her prettiest smile she said: "Let's go to the check out." I had real trouble not to laugh when I said to her: "Sorry Honey, but I think I have changed my mind, I don't want to buy all this stuff after all. She turned pale at this, and even another shade paler when I added: "All I want right now is being hugged." When she was almost exploding with rage and hatred I added, as the final strike: "You really don't understand the financial needs of a man, don't you?"

Posted on 14.07.2007, 05:39:57 CET


5.
Toothpricked (00000090)
4 comments
2.9/5 (344 Votes)
When I was six, my father died of cancer and we, my mother, my two sisters and I, had to make it on our own. It wasn't easy to start with, but life went on and it was good. That is, until my mother met another man; I had just turned eight. He was a carpenter and, as often happened in his line of work, had two fingers missing on each hand. That did not make a trust-inspiring impression on a kid at the first meeting. I was afraid of him and very standoffish. It may seem like it's childishly naïve or mean to let oneself by upset by such things, but fairly soon it turned out that the first impression hadn't been wrong. His external appearance wasn't nearly as hateful as his interior. He was married, and, because his wife had money, he didn't want a divorce (thank God). But he wanted my mother anyway, and so she gave in to a three-way. To top it all, he was a terrible despot, saw himself as the head of the family and always took the seat at the head of the table as if rightfully his. That this presumption could hurt him sometime apparently never dawned on him. There were a lot of arguments with my older sisters, with a lot of shouting and even some physical stuff. I never said anything about it. I was a quiet child who had not emerged from himself yet, in part to avoid stress, of course. Because of the way I acted, I was "good child" as far as he was concerned; one evening he opined that I should call finally call him "Pop". But I refused, and told him, in these exact words: "You can kiss my ass." An expression that I never used, but felt it was justified under the circumstances. He started yelling instantly and my mother actually took his side, so I had to go to my room. That's when the hate started. I was only eight years old but felt pure hatred in my heart. So I decided he would be punished. Really punished. In our kitchen we had as seating a padded corner bench; there was always a small box stuffed with toothpicks on the table. Revenge would be easy, since I knew that the fat carpenter, without looking, would let himself fall onto the seat. My mother was fixing supper; I pretended to play with the toothpicks, but took one and stuck in the middle of the corner seat's padding, exactly on the hated guy's spot. I put the other toothpicks back in the box, went to my room and waited. My mother called us to the evening meal; I stayed in my room, listening. There was a fairly loud crack, followed instantly by a roaring yell. As you might expect from a kid, I had wanted the toothpick to stab him right in his butthole. But it missed. He had drilled a hole into his right testicle instead. He bled a lot, and my mother called the emergency medic. He swore a blue streak and immediately accused me, but he couldn't do anything because of the pain. My two sisters couldn't wipe the grins off their faces anymore, and from that day on I was their hero. The right testicle was removed in the hospital. I never saw this man again. I know it wasn't the right thing to do but, to this day, I'm not sorry about it. He deserved it. I never again in my life was violent or caused any other human being harm; but I'm convinced to this day that he was a bad person, and I'm glad that as s child of eight I found a way to let him know what I thought of him.

Posted on 29.09.2009, 02:05:25 CET
Place: Unterdelle 7, 44388 Dortmund
6.
Vampire Diaries (00000530)
2 comments
2.9/5 (371 Votes)
Okay, so I cut myself a lot and I actually find some pleasure in it. I've been single for like forever, so I started to experiment. One day when I cut, I felt so fucking turned on. I'm starting to think that what I am doing is sick, but I'm not sure. I'm cutting almost every day and I'm smiling about it. A year ago when I was about to go down on my girlfriend, I dug my nails into her skin so deep it bled. I licked up the blood and she looked at me like I was crazy. She left that night and never talked to me again. I feel so fucking trapped.

Posted on 04.08.2013, 09:04:50 CET
Place: East Lindsey
7.
Cucumber Salad (00000028)
0 comments
2.9/5 (343 Votes)
I was preparing lunch when I (w/27) got extremely horny. Since neither my partner nor anything else suitable was readily available, I used the cucumber. I was planning to dispose of it immediately when my partner called that he was bringing his mum (a real dragon of a mother in law) for lunch. Side dish was cucumber salad. Correct. With THAT cucumber. My self-control was extremely challenged trying not to laugh during lunch. I couldn't hide it completely, so my partner asked me later what was going on. I told him the whole story while suffering from a conniption that brought tears to my eyes. Thankfully he took it humorously. I'd love to tell the whole world.

Posted on 27.04.2009, 16:42:30 CET


8.
Jehovahs witnesses (00000006)
0 comments
2.9/5 (231 Votes)
I get Jehovah's witnesses to visit my neighbor. You can make an online appointment, and they appear right on time.

Posted on 09.01.2007, 20:58:23 CET
9.
Daddys sausage (00000004)
0 comments
2.9/5 (331 Votes)
My wife and I had a little mishap a while ago, which must be confessed. When we brought our 8 year old daughter to school the other day, and we said goodbye to her in front of the school, amidst many other parents who were making sure their kids were safely dropped. My wife asked our daughter, who was about to leave without saying anything, why she did not get a good bye kiss. My daughter answered, in front of all the parents: "I am not going to kiss you, Dad's sausage was in your mouth last night."

Posted on 23.12.2006, 19:15:21 CET
10.
No tip from the Sheik (00000010)
0 comments
2.9/5 (281 Votes)
I work as a janitor in a 5 star hotel. An Arab sheik with his delegation (about 30 people) announced his stay last year, so the whole hotel was decorated and changed around to make sure he would feel at home. They even brought in a guy with a compass to figure out the direction of Mecca to mark it with an arrow in every room because Arabs pray only towards Mecca. When they arrived, they had a busload full of luggage, so I was asked to help out to transport it inside. I didn't mind, I was hoping to get a good tip. Tough luck. The old guy gave me nothing! Of course, I couldn't let that go after having to haul his entire luggage for an hour. Owing the master key, I waited until the sheik had left the house and than went to his apartment and turned around his Mecca arrow. I have the funny idea he would have my head if he would figure out he prayed with his ass to Mecca.

Posted on 05.05.2007, 13:19:57 CET
11.
Stuck Tight (00000085)
0 comments
2.9/5 (286 Votes)
My girlfriend left me because I went to bed with another. No need to go into detail, what a bad person I am and so on, except maybe to mention that she cheated on me several times before, too. Over the years, we always had our little tiffs, but we managed to patch it all up, time and again. Except this time. My car is parked in an underground garage with only card access. My newly ex-girlfriend is kind of crazy, so I am guessing it was she who trashed my car with some sort of object, most likely a baseball bat. I'll probably wind up having to eat the damage, though I reported her to the police; but they weren't terribly interested and couldn't find any proof. For a while they even suspected me as the perpetrator. And the comprehensive insurance policy is not paying up for the same reason. A whole week I pondered how I could pay my ex back and I came up with some really dumb ideas. Most of them, unfortunately, were illegal and dangerous. Faced with the choice, I decided I'd best do something that, while illegal, wasn't dangerous and funny to boot. I rode to the home improvement center (by bus) and bought a ton of superglue. Taking it with me yesterday evening, I rode to her new apartment, kind of broke in, which was easy enough given that she never locks up, and I glued all her shoes to the floor of her shoe closet. Then on to all the cups in the back of the cupboard, the blanket on her bed, a kitchen chair to the floor, a half-eaten steak to the plate it was left on and the plate in turn to the kitchen table. I glued her old glasses into the glass case, the portable heater to the bathroom floor, all her cosmetic articles to one another; and the bathroom mat to the floor, so that she wouldn't slip when she jumps out of the shower enraged because the hand-held shower head is stuck to its holder. The toilet cover to the toilet seat, the telephone receiver to the cradle.I actually was going to glue her acoustic guitar in its case, but then took pity on the instrument. Her best friend just called to ask me if I had anything loose in my attic. I had a pretty good laugh at that.

Posted on 17.10.2010, 02:03:59 CET
12.
What’s my name? (00000179)
0 comments
2.9/5 (133 Votes)
I work as a waiter in a restaurant and in order to keep track of who ordered what and has to pay at large tables (8 to 20 people), I write everything on a separate piece of paper for each guest. And since I don’t know their names, I always come up with names like blockhead, horse face, Gucci slut, bar slut, and more.

Posted on 04.11.2012, 23:27:18 CET
13.
Stoned (00000012)
0 comments
2.9/5 (268 Votes)
I have been so stoned once that I ran after a duck, completely convinced it was a pack of cigarettes.

Posted on 23.05.2007, 02:41:59 CET
14.
The guy in the tram (00000021)
1 comments
2.9/5 (238 Votes)
I (w/23) was traveling on the tram in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt as it was very hot. A young man, about 25, was sitting opposite to me and kept staring at my legs and between my legs. It felt as if he was trying to see through my shorts. We were the last in the tram when we approached the final stop. Shortly before arrival at the station I got up, stood in front of him and pulled down my shorts and slip to my knees. I asked him if he was happy now. I have no issues being naked, but his looks were really annoying. He probably needed a week to get his jaw back in place.

Posted on 26.04.2009, 14:22:56 CET


15.
My Boss is Forcing this Confession (00000086)
0 comments
2.9/5 (236 Votes)
My boss, vehemently and in no uncertain terms, is forcing me to make a confession, because he has caught me several times reading confessions here. Right, so I now confess: I'm fascinated by what bad or abnormal things other people do. In the future, however, I will cease visiting here during working hours and see to it that I get internet access at home.

Posted on 31.03.2010, 18:28:44 CET
16.
Border control (00000037)
0 comments
2.9/5 (182 Votes)
I (m/27) am working for several years at the customs office in Northern Germany. We regularly search busses and trucks at border crossing in this area. Mainly at the Dutch border. A few weeks ago, something happened to me that I just can’t keep quiet. A big touring bus, as you know them from school trip loaded with German students on their final trip came across the border from Venlo. A higher ranking officer called them off the road and we started searching the bus. We didn't find anything, but the Sniffer dogs were quite nervous. So we had to search all the 50 students. Since we were only with 5 people, we had to place them in rows of 10. I started at an outer end of the line but didn’t find anything at first. After a few students, I hit the jackpot: 5 grams of hash in a back pack. The boy, barely 18 years old started shaking and staring at my colleagues. I thought I wasn't watched (my colleagues were all busy searching their designated backpacks) so I said to him: "I'll keep it, and we’ll forget this ever happened." He nodded in relief and his eyes almost glazed over. A short while later the students were told to board the bus and traveled on.

Posted on 08.06.2009, 23:18:07 CET
Place: Venlo, Netherlands
17.
Almost in the Mile High Club (00000137)
0 comments
2.9/5 (121 Votes)
A few years ago, I was on an airplane. I decided that it was in my best interest to jerk off in the bathroom. This was before The Hangover, so I felt very accomplished for an original idea. I wasn't caught, and there was something awesome about being surrounded by so many people who had no idea what I was doing. I don't regret it one bit. I guess I'm almost part of the mile high club.

Posted on 05.01.2012, 04:49:10 CET
Place: The sky
18.
Easter bunny bell (00000030)
1 comments
2.9/5 (230 Votes)
I (w/27) wear skirts during summer. Sometimes, when it's too hot for me, I won't wear panties. I tie a little Lindt Easter bunny bell to my clitoris piercing. It tinkles quite nicely and people tend to wonder where the sound comes from.

Posted on 24.05.2009, 17:09:42 CET
19.
Weather God (00000089)
0 comments
2.9/5 (236 Votes)
Man, our neighbors two houses down are getting on my nerves in a major way! It has just barely gotten warm again, and they're already putting on garden parties that last into the night. There's no getting any sleep; with the wind just right, the smoke from their burnt sausages on the grill wafts into the bedroom and hangs there all night long. But the worst is, they are such loud a-holes. Neighbors complained, but that only helped temporarily. I have now acquired a strong water pump and downloaded rolling thunder noises from the internet. You know what happened next: last Friday, I turned on the pump, positioned the hose and turned on the thunder with my big loudspeaker. The drunk broads started to scream and everybody ran inside. You could still hear them, but it was muffled. A couple of days later, I met the neighbor in front of the house and he said, thank goodness it rained, we needed it, the ground was fart-dry. I'll let a little time go by, and, if they get loud again, I'm going to play weather god. I beg forgiveness and indulgence.

Posted on 30.04.2011, 06:43:01 CET
Place: Cologne, Germany


20.
Penis Breakdown (00000001)
4 comments
2.9/5 (260 Votes)
Never again from behind. Here I want to first of all thank Peter, my buddy of many years, who has saved me from all sorts of bad situations. Shall I tell the tale? Well, sometime ago I had a girlfriend here in Bottrop (Germany), the good Vivianne. Well, yeah...the way things are, from time to time we wanted to do a little fucky-fucky. One thing I can say about myself that I'm one of the wilder ones. I'm not much into cuddly sex, where you blow sweet words into one another's ears. Nah, I'm more the type that pushes the girl's leg up behind her head, then puts on his sunglasses and puts the pedal to the metal until her eyes cross and she starts speaking Russian. As I was saying, we went at it pretty wild. Then came the change of position - now I was behind. I got wilder and wilder, it was very slippery. Some of the sounds coming from the good lady were pretty funny. Well, yes, I pressed on, always faster, always wilder. Then the accident happened: under the spell of my sexual exertions, I slipped out of her vagina and banged with the same amount of force and under the same expectation for moist happiness straight into the poor woman's rectum. I heard the lady's short, loud grunting, when I realized that my whole foreskin had been ripped away. I held old Johnson really tight, blood was spurting all over. I ran to the bathroom, wiped the blood off, but it kept coming. The whole foreskin was suspended from a single small string of flesh. I got dizzy - what to do? Peter! I rang the good Peter out of bed. PETER? PLEASE COME OVER FAST, MY COCK HAS EXPLODED!

Fifteen minutes later Mr. Good was at the door to drive me to Marien Hospital. The emergency room already was full of people with various other ailments. My noodle hurt so bad that I had to walk with my legs spread apart. Everyone looked at me baffled. Peter held me up. I rang the bell at the reception desk until the nurse appeared. GOOD EVENING, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU? AHH...I'VE GOT AN OUCH THERE. WHERE? WELL, DOWN THERE. WHERE, ON YOUR LEG? Man, I can't explain what happened, the other patients are already looking funny. I BROKE MY TOOL!!!!! The nurse called straightaway to the Urology Department. Over into the elevator...right into the examination room. Three doctors took a look Mr. Jack Hammer. Oh, how did that happen? Then I had to tell the whole story. Peter was waiting outside. They thought for sure we were a couple of fairies who had just fucked. Man, was I ashamed. First, they cleaned my noodle. The doc said: SO, YOUNG FELLA, IT'S GOING TO BURN A LITTLE. AAAHHHHHHHH!!! Ow...it really did burn. I wanted to die. I asked for a full-body anesthesia...but the doc nixed my pleas for mercy. He said...YOU'VE ALREADY LOST TOO MUCH BLOOD, AN ARTERY IS TORN, EVERYTHING HAS TO BE DONE WITHOUT ANESTHESIA. What artery? My Jack Hammer has an artery? Oh, that's why the saying goes, you think with your dick. Others have an artery in the head, I have one in the dick. Oh, well. WHAAAAAAAAAAT? No anesthesia? What's going to have to be done? WE HAVE TO STITCH UP THE ARTERY...THEN WE'LL MOVE THE FORESKIN BACK WHERE IT BELONGS. OR DO YOU WANT US TO JUST CIRCUMCISE YOU? Help...here one just wants to make his girlfriend happy and an hour later he's almost a half-Muslim with a sliced-off foreskin. Meanwhile, the room had filled with 8 people. Some nurses suddenly stood around me, they were all amused. I lifted my fingers in the V-for-Victory sign and said: WELL, GIRLS... EVERY-THING OK WITH YOU? Not true...I didn't say anything. I was ashamed. For a long time nothing happened...I just lay there on the stretcher like an idiot, while those present talked about some kind of shit. Suddenly the door opened. The chief cock doctor had arrived. After a short head bob from the good man the whole crew came over to me and suddenly held me down. Each of them had a hold of some piece of me. One of them actually propped himself up with the of his hand on my head. HEY, WHAT'S HAPPENING? A green cloth was wrapped around my abdomen, it had a hole in the middle that my noodle peeked out from. No trace of manly power...plain and simply, a shriveled wreck looked out from the green cloth. But why are they all holding me down? Then I suddenly saw the NEEDLE. Oh, God...please, no, needles freak me out. The doc took the little, bleeding sausage in hand and positioned the needle for the stitch. AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!! The first stitch went fully into the lower part of the glans. He sowed my artery together. In total he needed 6 stitches. I had really severe pain. I damned all of womanhood. Never again will I fuck, I yelled, over and over again. So, artery sealed tight again. Now it was the foreskin's turn. Constantly, as I write this, I hold my pipi tight, as the recollection of this drama is still very intense. I will not forget each and every one of those stitches. How the thread would get pulled through the lower part of the glans. Again and again. Again and again. Anybody who gets horny over this should probably check in with a doctor or a self-help group, just mentioning that in passing. Well, at some point the doctor then said, FINISHED. I got a neat wound around my wang and then the doc gave me a few packets of chamomile wash, that I was to use three times daily. Then I left the treatment room, found Peter still waiting by the door. I greeted him with a cool AWW, THEY JUST TOOK A LOOK - WASN'T BAD, DUDE.

Thanks to the Urology department of the Marien Hospital Bottrop. you were a blast for my blaster. The day's crowning moment came as follows: I was at home, letting water run into a bowl into which I was supposed put the chamomile potion. Numbskull that I am, I naturally forgot to test the temperature with my finger. Bang, noodle freed of the bandage and bang, laid it into the boiling soup. AAAAAHHH!!! The poor noodle got crazy red and looked like it was ready to fall off. My face was nothing but pure pain. As I then somehow was lying in bed, it pulsated something mighty down there...I was really glad then that at some point I did fall asleep. Oh, yeah, good Vivianne experienced considerable pain in the rectum and swore at me, calling me an inconsiderate screwer who couldn't control himself. Well, I did excuse myself. That was 3 years ago. Now I just have cuddly sex and breathe sweet words into girls' ears. And I hope it's clear to everyone why ass out of the question is for me.

Posted on 01.12.2004, 05:34:18 CET
Place: Bottrop, Germany

568 Sins.



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