Category Archives: Anonymous Wankers

Best of FKMYSELF: Anonymous Wanker Stories

As the anniversary of our relaunch approaches, I thought it would be fun to go back through the archives and put together some of our favorite reader submissions from the beta version of our site. Enjoy!

I was 11 when I started dry-humping my couch.  I was “sick” that day and my parents were at work, and I remember thinking to myself, “if only the cushions were wet.  And warm.”  Needless to say, boiling water and pouring it on the couch cushions did nothing but force me to lie and tell my parents that our cat peed on them.  He was neutered the following week.  Sorry Patches. ~anonymous chicken choker


Back in 7th grade I took home Ec class to get out of taking other more masculine classes, and one of the things they had us do was sewing. They made the girls sew something girly like a big pretty flower or a glass ceiling, and they had the guys sew giant footballs. So I sewed me a giant football and took it home, and pretty much immediately I started to fuck it late at night. I fucked that football for like 3 weeks, fucking it in a little hole that had formed in the middle where I hadn’t sewn it properly, and I would hide it under my bed. Until my dad found it one day and asked why I had a giant, flat, crusty, hard football under my belt. I told him I was jumping on it and spilled milk on it. But we both knew what was up. He was pretty cool about it, I think he thought there was something way hetero about fucking a giant football to death. ~anonymous chicken choker


A girlfriend of mine once told me “you are the only person I know who has ever scarred herself masturbating.” … I returned home one Sunday evening after a long weekend of escapist partying, and decided the best thing to do would be to get in the bathtub and rub one out (rather than fall into bed like any respectable party girl). I proceeded to lay in a reclined position for the next 2? 3? hours in a semi-trance-fantasy state. When I got out I had a pressure sore which now looks like the site of a mole removal on my lower back. Pathetic or professional… I have no regrets! ~anonymous double mouse clicker


Ever fallen asleep while trying to rub one out?  It can be pretty embarrassing to be woken-up the next morning, (TV blaring the sounds of the Jenna Jameson Menu screen, lotion to your left, rag to your right, pants around your ankles) by your parents visiting for the weekend.  ~anonymous chicken choker


A guy in our house would buy his Trojans from Costco and go-through about 36 condoms every 1-2 weeks. We knew there was no way he was getting laid that much, so we asked him. “I don’t use them for intercourse,” he answered, “but they’re great for when I masturbate around campus — it’s like having lube, a catch-rag, and easy cleanup in your back pocket.” ~anonymous chicken choker


Sometimes when I’m stuck in traffic I’ll pull up porn on my iphone and discreetly go to town. Much harder to do when you’re wearing jeans, and my windows aren’t even tinted! ~anonymous double mouse clicker


So, I was 17 years old… at work… on the beach… lifeguarding.. It was very hot out… There were a lot of cute girls around.. in bikinis… My horny standpartner… a muscular guy in his mid twenties… needed to take a little break… As it turns out.. He jerked off in the nearest porta-potty at the bulkhead backbeach… With suntan lotion!!!.. Pretty foul huh? I mean, I’ve jerked off at job or two… and several times in my life I used suntan lotion as a lube… But a PortaPotty?? In the summer?? On the beach??!!!! SweatySloppySmellsness!!!!!!! ~The more patient chicken-chokin-lifeguard that hot summer day


Some people think I’m a bit strange because I carry my go-to vibrator around with me everywhere (literally). I now buy purses specifically so that there are compartments where I can easily hide “The Mole,” as I call it. My rationalization is that I never know when and where things will become fun, so like a good boyscout, in my case a girlscout, I’m trying to always be prepared. As you can imagine, before I had refined my hiding abilities of my little toy, carrying this bad boy around was risky and risque. It was especially bad in college when I would go into my class, put my purse on the floor…and then in about 1 minute, the room would quiet down in preparation for the professor to speak…only my class would get a confounded look on their face as the ever-present buzzing of my vibrator would permeate the dead silence. Not on me, in my purse. “The Mole” is designed in such a way that the top of it twists very easily, controlling the on/off function and the intensity…In these moments, I used to blush and get horribly embarrassed, hiding my face as best as I could without giving away my dirty little secret. Word to the wise: Coach purses have great hidden compartments. I wish I knew that then! ~anonymous double mouse clicker


So after working a ludicrous amount of hours each day for a ludicrous amount of days, I had forgotten to partake in the bi-daily (and sometimes daily) act of loving myself. So after about a month of not jacking it, I went all out with the sensuous music, spending circa 20 minutes to find the perfect outlet for this beautiful venture. Music, check. Porn, check. Volume at a controllable level, check. Let’s do this. I’m hacking away, and oh was it glorious, but I wanted this to be special. Usually I conceal the excrements in a paper towel or, Lord help me, a sock (a man gets desperate sometimes) but I wanted this to be “Au Naturale”, you know the way God intended. After about 5 minutes of FK’ing Myself, I came with such power and grace it flew into the midday air like a phoenix…only this phoenix thought my face was the sun. Yes, that’s right, I blew my load on my own face. It was a disgraceful time, to be completely honest with you. I never looked at “myself” the same. Our relationship was tarnished. ~anonymous chicken choker


I was about 6 years old when I discovered the miracle of pool jets. Me: “Why does my vagina get itchy when I put it here?” Mom: “Maybe you shouldn’t put it there honey…” I later learned that shower heads offer the same pleasure with a little more privacy ~anonymous double mouse clicker


I was about 13. I was sitting on an exercise ball in the middle of my living room watching a porno my friend had let me borrow. I was jacking off and all of a sudden a white liquid came out of my dick. Though I’d been masturbating for years, this had never happened before. I thought, “What is this?? This is gross!” I vowed that I would never touch myself again. I then proceeded to touch myself every single day the next week. The end. ~anonymous chicken choker


When I was 9 I was at baseball practice and asked one of my teammates what he’d been doing all day.  His response: “Jacking-off all afternoon”.  I had no idea what that meant.  I thought it was some sort of construction.  Until I went home and asked my parents at dinner.  In front of my grandparents.  And my grandmother gave me the answer.  With hand motions. ~anonymous chicken choker

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a FUCKIN poem

Submitted anonymously from one of our readers:

you can almost taste it

it hangs in the air

it’s thick, it sticks to the sheets

it’s my favorite kind of fuckin,

the kind that leaves you panting,

stuck against the wall

bent in some odd shape

didn’t know your knees

could bend that way

slap your partner on the ass and proclaim


then stagger to the shower.

there’s no love like the messy kind, so have as much as you can <3

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Readers Confess: Pleasure and Pain

By Minoru |

It was a couple weeks after my 21st birthday and I had to have an intense abdominal surgery. The 3 inch vertical incision went through my belly button. During my recovery I wasn’t able to move much or even sit up. With all this time to kill, I decided to see how many times I could orgasm in one day. Little did I know that every time I came, my stomach muscles would contract right under the incision. This created a strange sensation of intense pumps of pleasure immediately followed by sharp stabbing pains. After the first 3 I was able to ignore the pain (With a little help from the prescribed Vicodin) and appreciate the 5 seconds of pure ecstasy.

I took a nap after the 7th orgasm and woke up to a phone call from my ex girlfriend. She found my situation absolutely hilarious. “Ha ha, you can’t cum!” she teased me. Even though she refused to have phone sex, she kept me company for a couple of hours and then it was back to jackin it.

At the end of the day (maybe around 10 hours) I pulled out a solid 14 orgasms. Ghost loads included. The ordeal wasn’t as physically demanding as you would imagine, but the real challenge was using the mouse with my left hand 🙂

14! What is the greatest amount of orgasms you’ve had in one day? Weigh in below.

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Readers Confess! How I learned to masturbate

By Anonymous Chicken Choker

Too many masturbation stories to count…

I first learned how to masturbate at my friend’s 12th birthday party, watching “American Pie”…my friends and I rewound the scene where Shannon Elizabeth gets naked about 25 times, then each of us individually went into the bathroom to jack off. I didn’t know what I was doing then, so just unsuccessfully grabbed at my dick a few times.

Once I truly learned how to pet the one-eyed monster, it was game on: I found my dad’s porn stash and would watch it with my friends, taking turns in the bathroom as was our tradition. I even started downloading porn off Kazaa, burning it onto CD’s, and selling it at school! Good times.

Of course, my parents caught me a number of times too…most memorably, my dad once rented a video game for me and took it to me in my room — just as I was looking at a Photoshopped picture of a naked Jeri Ryan (7 of 9 from “Star Trek: Voyager”). He said, “I aim to serve,” dropped the video game on my desk, and walked right out!

Good times…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg!

Readers Confess: Call me ‘Finger Cuffs’

By Samantha J.


I’ve always thought the best situation for a threesome would be with complete strangers you never see again, but the first (and hopefully not last) time I enjoyed having two lovers in bed with me, both men were very close friends. Growing up in a conservative Christian household,  I never would have imagined being comfortable even watching porn, let alone having a porn star moment of my own. But it’s amazing what too much wine and curiosity will produce.

Eric, Steven and I had only known each other for a few months but quickly became like the three musketeers. Steven works in the music industry with me and while we hooked up once or twice during our first project together, things had been platonic for quite some time. He introduced me to his friend Eric during a week that we both found ourselves coincidentally in Bali at the same time. The three of us had fun getting stoned together, skinny dipping at the beaches and (barely) surviving some dangerous hikes.

One night when we were all back in New York a large group of us went out for dinner and drinks. I’m not sure what came over me but somewhere after my fourth glass of wine I leaned over and whispered to Steven, “The three of us should just all go home and have sex.” His eyes perked up at the notion and I knew immediately that he was down. “Have you discussed it with Eric?” he asked me. “No, but he has always wanted to fuck me and it definitely wouldn’t be his first time double-teaming a girl.” I can’t remember which one of us filled Eric in on the plan but by the end of the meal it was settled: the three of us were going to go back to my apartment and fuck.

Much later that evening when we were finally walking back to my place, my liquid confidence had worn off and I wasn’t so thrilled about the idea anymore. I told the boys, “I’m not so sure about this after all.” Eric soothed me and said, “Listen. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But how about we just all go to the apartment, smoke some pot, Steven and I will give you a massage and we can just take it from there?” That didn’t sound so bad.  So we proceeded to get comfortable on the couch, put on some surfing DVD and get high. After a while, Eric and Steven lead me to my bedroom and had me take off my shirt and lay face down on the bed. They took out some massage oil and started rubbing my back. God I was in heaven. Steven turned to Eric and said, “Isn’t she a lucky girl tonight?” I nodded dreamily. At some point they stopped massaging me. I lifted my head and asked, “That’s it?” They replied, “Yep. That’s it.” I took a deep breath and said, “All right. Let’s do this.”

I can’t remember who kissed me first but eventually I found myself sucking Eric’s cock while Steven was fucking me. I felt like such a porn star! It was exhilarating. Finally Eric slid into me and began thrusting slowly, then faster, harder. I began losing myself, moaning loudly but was interrupted by Steven yelling “Yeah! Give it to her hard! Yeah! Fuck her hard!!” This went on for quite a while until Eric and I finally told him “SHUT UP!!” and resumed getting lost in the throes of passion. Eventually Eric came and relaxed against the bed. “Make her come, Steven” he said. So Steven slipped on a condom and I climbed on top of him, grinding my hips and rubbing my clit until finally… we both climaxed and lay down gasping on the bed. “That rocking motion was so soothing…” sighed Eric. We chilled for a moment and then went to the kitchen for some leftover pizza and thai food. Between bites of pepperoni I turned to them and had to laugh. “Did we really just do that??” A good little girl from Kansas getting finger cuffed! I couldn’t imagine two better guys to do it with.

On a downer note, things were never quite the same between Steven and Eric after that. I’m still friends with both of them but Steven insists that it was after our threesome that Eric started acting really douche-y towards him. Maybe he was getting homophobic, or maybe he had really been an ass all along. In any case, I have no regrets about the experience and would definitely do it again 🙂


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Readers Confess: Threesome and a Baby

By Jasmine

There are a number of things that can go wrong when you attempt a threesome: a partner gets jealous and it ruins the relationship. Someone falls in love with the unattached third party and it ruins the relationship.  Unattached third party gets pregnant? That situation never occurred to me as something I would need to worry about until…

I had been fucking my boss “Eric” for almost two years and during that time, whenever he came over to my place for some afternoon delight and ran into my roommate, he would suggest that I try to rope her into coming to bed with us. I have always been bi-curious and found myself on many occasions fantasizing about kissing beautiful women, but the thought of getting physical with one of my best friends made me very uncomfortable. It’s not that she wasn’t beautiful, but I wasn’t attracted to her in that way and she felt more like a big sister to me than anything else. I’m going to admit now that erotic stories and films about passionate, incestuous relationships have always been a weird turn on for me, but when it came to my own life I was not going to cross that line. So I would laugh off his remarks and hope that he would never bring it up again.

One day my girlfriend “Lisa” was over at my house crashing on the couch while apartment hunting. She was lounging around half naked  when we walked through the door on our lunch break. Eric’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw he quickly covering up. He convinced her to come down to the jacuzzi with us and later as she was cooking in the kitchen, asked her to come to bed. I pulled him into my room and told him I was NOT comfortable with this, that if we were going to have a threesome I would prefer it to be some random girl I never saw again. But he begged me to do this, and so I eventually agreed that if she said yes, I would go along with it.

Back  outside he was actually making good headway with talking her into joining us. I was actually pretty impressed and slightly turned on watching him seduce another woman right in front of me. Out of sheer boredom or curiosity Lisa said that she would agree to do it but first wanted to watch the two of us together. We all proceeded to get a little more drunk and a little more high and then she stood by as she watched Eric kissing me, peeling off my clothes. Soon we found ourselves in my bed and I eventually loosened up. I kissed Lisa and cautiously put my fingers inside of her, became increasingly aroused by her moaning. Eventually I got on top of Eric and was starting to enjoy myself until he rudely pushed me off and pulled Lisa towards him. I understood the greater appeal of a new piece of ass and tried to attribute this lack of sensitivity to his drunkenness but it ruined the entire affair for me. Before Eric could finish, Lisa realized that she was late for a job interview and rushed out the door.  I gave him a piece of my mind and proceeded to put the whole thing behind me.

That proved impossible to do when a few weeks later, Lisa found out she was pregnant. She had been seeing another guy and I was convinced that it couldn’t be Eric’s baby, but when she went to see the doctor and did the math about the day it was conceived, she came to the conclusion that it had to be our threesome that put her into that mess. I can’t even begin to describe to you how horrible the next few days were watching her at my house going through her second (!) abortion, waking up and crying in the middle of the night. This was definitely not  one of the scenarios I had imagined when trying to determine what could go wrong. Eventually when she went back to the doctor, he told her that date of conception was actually not as accurate as he had described to her and that there was a discrepancy window of up to 5 or 6 days.  This put to rest the notion that Eric and I had anything to do with the whole mess (after all he had never even come inside of her) but it took our friendship a very long time to recover. Eric’s behavior during the event also spoke volumes about the kind of partner he was incapable of being for me and our relationship dissolved not too long afterward.

You might be surprised to hear that this whole nightmare didn’t stop me from having another threesome (or two) and those trysts ended much more happily. But be warned that if you’re going to open that door you better be prepared to face some pretty wild consequences.


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Readers Confess: I’M A MAN AND I USE A VIBRATOR!

By W. R.

We all know there are countless double standards when we talk about sex in mainstream society. Men are allowed, if not expected, to be promiscuous, while women are supposed to be virginal. Men get to take pills that give them massive hard-ons, while women have to bear the burden of birth control pills which can take a physical and emotional toll. Men wear simple underwear, while women strap on lingerie as complicated as a suspension bridge.

But when it comes to sex toys, women have a full range of equipment, not only to choose from, but to fall in love with. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard a woman say that she doesn’t need a man for the night because she’s got her vibrator. Or vibrators. And massage oil. While men are stuck with Vaseline and Kleenex.

When I think of sex toys for men the first thought that comes to mind is the Fleshlight. I’m still not sure how you use it, and I don’t even want to think about how you clean it. Then there’s the full range of anal sex toys: anal beads, dildos, oddly shaped contraptions designed to stimulate the prostate. However, in mainstream American society, the man is supposed to penetrate, not be penetrated. The common consensus is that those toys are for gay dudes. But why? Personally, having things stuck up my butt isn’t on my list of things to do. Which I guess makes me a hypocrite since I’ve been on the giving end of anal sex with a few women.

But let’s get back to the topic at hand. My friend gave me a little vibrator at her adult-themed party recently. Not a phallic one, but a fun little rubber duck-shaped one. The fact that it looks like a duck has no appeal to me, but the fact that it DOESN’T look like a dick probably made it a lot easier for me to give it a try. When I asked her about how to use it, she stated very matter-of-factly, “It feels great on your balls.” And that was the plan. Even if I wanted to stick a vibrator in my ass, I sure as hell wouldn’t have my first attempt be with one that’s shaped like a duck.

Life rarely goes as we plan, and I guess the same can be said for experimenting with sex toys. No, I didn’t end up sticking it up there. But I didn’t hold it on my balls, either. I won’t say exactly where, but I will say I learned that vibrations travel through your body, and after having one of the best orgasms ever, I now understand the big deal about stimulating a man’s prostate.

I am a man, a straight man, a straight man who doesn’t stick things up his butt. And I use a vibrator. Now if I can just find a woman who’ll share this newfound passtime with me.

Readers speak up! Uncircumcised and proud

With the exception of a few tattoos and scars attributed more or less equally to stupid decisions and brilliant decisions, I am as my creator…created. I’m the hooded avenger. I’m uncircumcised. With the recent hullabaloo going on in San Francisco regarding the rights of parents to circumcise their child on block, I thought it pertinent to hear from someone with first-hand experience about what it’s like to be alive and uncut.As a teenager, I was well aware that I was different than other boys and at that age I did derive some shame from it. I wondered if it would affect me in some horrible way…like would my penis be able to grow properly with the extra covering? Would girls think I’m gross?!? On the upside, you never have to worry about buying condoms if you can just put a bread clip on the end of that thing and go to town.

I’m joking, of course. I use a rubber band.

Lucky me, my penis grew, I got boner after boner and for most girls it was a non-issue. Mostly. A few girls were just baffled about what to do. It was as if that extra skin turned my penis into some mysterious, alien land. Out of curiosity, they explored, poked, prodded and asked the only native that could speak English question after question. What did they like? Did they feel the same things as others? What did they eat? Did they believe in any kind of deity? Okay, maybe not those last two, but you get the idea. I understood where their curiosity came from and never took offense to any questions. Being able to speak openly about something that made me different to them was actually very helpful in reinforcing my identity and helping me feel comfortable with who I am. By the end of high school, I was good with how things were down there. I realized that while I am different than most guys I know, it’s totally okay.

I believe that being able to explore these ideas and feelings with the help of things like porn and most of the girls who went to my high school (high five, bro) were what enabled me to break through the shame I felt. So, if you’re sitting there right now cursing yourself for not being born Jewish or for having parents that wanted to keep their child from being mutilated, stop it. You’re good, dude.

Oh and as far as the banning of circumcision in SF, (which was just pulled from the ballot, by the way) my stance is to each their own. I understand the importance of tradition in culture, even if I don’t understand the tradition itself.



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Readers Confess: Good Nipple Hunting

One of our readers reflects on his Catholic upbringing and his parents’ fear mongering about sex.

By W.R.

I grew up in a conservative home. Dad didn’t read many books, but when he did you could bet the author was Rush Limbaugh. Mom was a post-Vatican 2 Irish Catholic, which meant she didn’t really care about the pope, but she still carried a painfully guilt-driven attitude toward sex. From an early age, my siblings and I learned that if we didn’t censor our own television watching habits, we’d receive a stern rebuke and be forced to turn off the TV. As a child, there were few punishments as harsh.

So we learned the key phrases and imagery that would upset our parents, and every time we sensed something unacceptable coming up, we’d change the channel. We had cable, so MTV was one of the naughtier channels. When Mom was out of the room, we’d turn down the volume and turn on Bevis and Butthead, or Singled Out. These shows seem tame by comparison to current TV trends. But back then, hearing “asshole” on TV was mind-blowing. We didn’t understand why these words were bad. We just knew they weren’t allowed. My brothers and I took every opportunity to steal a glance at premium cable (HBO, Cinemax, Showtime). We would even spend ridiculously long periods staring at scrambled cable porn channels, hunting for a nipple or a butt cheek. Mostly I remember being able to make out their shoes. For some reason TV scrambling technology had a hard time concealing shoes.

In the car it was even more ridiculous. My brothers and I knew every line to Green Day’s album “Dookie.” We even had it on tape so we could listen to it in the semi-privacy of our rooms. Mom had bought the album for us, not knowing that it was sparsely peppered with bad words. But in the car, when it came on the radio, we had to keep our hands on the volume knob. We knew what was coming, and we’d quickly turn it down to censor out words like “masturbation” and “shit,” as if Mom couldn’t intuit what the missing lyrics were.

But one moment sticks in my mind more than any other as the height of ridiculous self-censorship. It’s such a minute act, but for some reason I’m embarrassed that I was such an obedient lackey to the anti-sex attitudes of my parents. One night when I was about ten, my entire family was in the living room watching The Godfather. About halfway through, Al Pacino’s character marries his Italian sweetheart, Apollonia. A brief sex scene follows. Apollonia slides her dress off her shoulders and reveals her naked breasts to her new husband. While this scene was going on, I was lying on the floor, staring up at the TV. When I sensed the impending nudity, I quietly lifted my knees to block out the sight of Apollonia’s breasts. My parents probably didn’t even notice. They had no idea what I could see and what I couldn’t. They had no idea that moving my legs slightly would block out her forbidden bosom and nipples. They were letting me watch this movie, and they knew it was a violent, mildly sexual film. As far as I know, they didn’t mind this one time. But I took it upon myself to sanitize the scene, to expurgate the bareness, to cover up those tits!

Looking back on it now, I get why my Mom didn’t want me watching dirty things on MTV. I get why porn was scrambled. Children shouldn’t be exposed to certain things without guidance. But what I received from my parents wasn’t guidance, it was censorship. They simply blacked out anything they found offensive, instead of helping me understand why certain things were appropriate and other things weren’t. That sex scene in The Godfather is one of the more tasteful I’ve ever watched. It’s two people in love, sharing a tender moment. And I decided that that was something I shouldn’t be allowed to see, instead of appreciating it for what it was. Maybe I was still too young to understand love and intimacy between a man and a woman. But the fact that I was driven by fear embarrasses me to this day. I was driven by my own fear, that my parents would reign fiery wrath down on me. And I was driven by their fear of sex.

Fear shouldn’t drive sexuality. Fear kills healthy sexuality and replaces it with repression and psychological complexes. Luckily, I was able to soldier through and I now have a healthy, if imperfect, relationship with my own sexuality. If nothing else, I can happily say I’m no longer using my knees to block out the nudie bits in R-rated movies.

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Readers Confess! Reflections on the Armenian American sexual experience

From an anonymous Double-Mouse clicker:

To truly post a confession of my sexuality it takes me back to my childhood, which is kind of weird. I found masturbation when I was very young, maybe 7, and as I got older I thought there was something wrong with me. No one else my age was experiencing things like that, no one was talking about things like that. I quickly realized that I had found something that nobody else had found yet. I made my sexuality a secret. If by coincidence or fate, I was one of the girls that was an early bloomer, I started my period in the 5th grade and my body looked very different then all my classmates. I definitely felt different at the age of 10.

I continued that way for many years, until I was about 13 years old. I was in junior high and I had my very first ever boyfriend! As I look back now I realize that my relationship with “Andy” was extremely sexual and we experimented with everything except intercourse. In those years I started becoming more comfortable with my sexuality. I made it up in my head that because I’m older, masturbation and sexuality isn’t bad anymore, just as long as I’m not having sex and I’m still a virgin!

Growing up in an Armenian home is very interesting in Los Angeles. Armenian parents refuse to let go of their traditions and their children are stuck in two worlds, conservative Armenians and liberal Americans. My parents would constantly badger me about boyfriends and staying a clean, pure girl until I was married. And yet, everything I was seeing on TV or in the movies was SEX! I decided at the age of 14 that my parents are crazy to expect me to not be sexual until I was married.

My relationship with “Andy” ended, and in high school I had another boyfriend… “Bill”. Another extremely sexual relationship, but this time I was ‘in love’. I was 15 and Bill and I lost our virginity to each other. My relationships with boys continued normally and when I was about 18 years old I finally realized that there’s nothing wrong with sex. Now if only I had known that when I was younger, I wouldn’t have beat myself up about sexuality for so many years.

I’m 21 now, and I’ve been in a relationship for two years. The greatest moment of my sexual freedom came about a year ago when I came home late one night from a date with my boyfriend and my mother was sitting outside smoking a cig. “Don’t stay out so late with that boy! He’ll try to have sex with you! Imagine what our family would say if they knew you were out late with this boy!” my mother said. And I said back, “Mom, I’ve been having sex since I was 15. And who cares what the family says! They have children of their own they have to worry about!” ……………….. “You’ve been having sex since you were 15? You’re lying.” she said. “No mom, I’m not lying. So stop bothering me about sex.” And that was that. She didn’t yell. She didn’t kill me. I think she chose to forget about it. I’ve felt very free since the moment I opened up with my mama. The end.

Love always,

Magnetic Hotness