Step mom nude video

2020.10.22 17:28 throwaway_throwawayp Step mom nude video

I’m posting my story over here from surviving infidelity because I would like more opinions or if anyone can relate. An update is that he was potentially exposed to COVID at work so we thought it would be best if I stayed with my family until his test comes back. Still sort of talking to each other, the pain is still intense. Once I’m able to come back home we’re hoping to talk to his former faster dad is who is a pastor (we aren’t religious) who has worked with couples before... just so he can have some guidance. He knows his past and knows his trauma and is a really understanding and great guy. We met at the church he was a youth pastor at even though we both weren’t religious lmao. He wants to explore sexually and see what life without being in a relationship feels like and then we will decide what we want to do. I want to stay and work through this, go to therapy, build back trust and learn from this because I love him and I feel like he loves me. Think he’s just feeling lost. Since we’ve spent such a large chunk of our early to late teens and early adulthood together I think he’s just wondering if he’s making the right choice. I don’t know. He’s open to going to therapy I think he’s just depressed and anxious to make the call. He’s gone in the past and got a bad taste in his mouth due to counselor reactions but he knows it would be helpful to work through his trauma.There’s so much more to be said. If anything doesn’t make sense let me know and I’ll try to clarify. We also have two cats together and they are like our babies.. lmao now I am just rambling. Here’s my story from like two days ago that’s evolving:
My partner of 7 years (23M) cheated on me (22F)... feels bad he hurt me but doesn’t know what he wants
So, I’m completely broken. My heart hurts.
I’ve been with this person since 2013, when we were young. We made mistakes when we were young but now we’re older and have been living together for two-three years.
Everything was doing okay. Everything was beautiful. We never fought, and if we did we’d immediately make up. We told eachother we loved eachother every day. Kissed goodbye every morning. Hung out and made food and played video games. He truly is my best friend, and who I believe is the love of my life. We were intimate, maybe not as much as he wanted but we were intimate. He recently got on antidepressants so his libido lately and ability to orgasm has been severely affected. He struggles with ptsd, anxiety and depression, as well as I assume ADHD. He was abused very violently growing up by his step father, his mother used meth when she was pregnant and verbally abused him, he was in foster care for most of his teen years. I assume sexual abuse at a young age too from what he’s expressed. His bio father has been in jail most of his life for drugs, and he recently found out his dad has covid and was sort of on his death bed... he only started talking to him on the phone a couple months ago.
He is so kind and gentle.. we were discussing marriage, he brought up having children. It really felt idealistic. Sure we weren’t doing everything we wanted to do in life but we are young. He is so intertwined with me, and my family. The thought of being without him hurts me so much
About 4-6 months ago I was looking on his Twitter and looked at his posts which were kind of suspicious. I also looked at his likes and saw him like pictures of one of his friends (not the one he confessed to sleeping with) half naked. I confronted him about it and told him it made me uncomfortable when he did that and he apologized and said he wouldn’t do it. So I’ve been having Just a hunch for a while and been feeling jealous.
Two weeks ago he started to go out to the bar with his friends from high school. I thought nothing of it, I was actually happy because he’s sort of introverted. Then this last Friday he went out... and didn’t tell me when he was going to come home. He told me I was his whole world and sent hearts and told me he loved me... he said the bar was closing so they were going to bring the party over to his friends house
He ends up getting home after 2 in the morning. I’m upset with him and decide to go out for the day with my friend to just have some social time. I get home, tell him I’m upset about him not telling me what time he’s going to get home, and then for some reason I just have something inside me push me to say “I just want you to know, if you’re wanting to be with someone else or sleep with someone else just end it, because I can’t do that”. He seemed kind of shocked but hid it, and said “okay”. That hurt my feelings that he didn’t say “I would never”. I told him I wasn’t talking to anyone. He told me he wasn’t talking to anyone.
We take a nap, and I wake up and try to start to be intimate with him and turn him on.. he gets up and is uncomfortable and looks really sad. I ask him what’s going on. He starts to cry and tells me that he kissed and cuddled another girl the night before. I’m shocked but calm for some reason. We talk it through and he says he didn’t know her and he didn’t plan on it happening it just happened. I told him I understand, I was upset that he did that and that’s not okay but I understand. He brought up feeling like he’s missing out on life.. or that the very fact he’s having doubts about us or that he feels attraction to other women means he doesn’t know if he truly can be with me, that he doesn’t deserve me. I reassure him that it’s okay to have doubts... and that we’ll get through this. We’ll go to therapy, we’ll figure it out. We go to bed. I wake up in the middle of the night and have a full on panic attack and loudly wail and cry. He holds me. The next morning I go to my sisters house because I need a break. She takes care of me I go home that night and we don’t talk about it more we just sleep.
I wake up the next morning and he confesses it wasn’t a hug and a kiss, it was sex. And also that he was buying content from only fans but tried to stop one time because he felt bad but then made another account. I’m shocked but at the same time I feel like I expected it. I’m hurt. But I tell him what I said before still stands. We can get help, he can delete the temptation out of his life or try to, we can work through this because I love him, or we can try to take a break from eachother, or we can just end it. I’m not sure what he wants in that moment. I want to be able to give him a break to experience what he thinks he’s missing out on because I love him and want the best for him and want him to be happy. He isn’t sure what he wants. He’s scared if he takes a break he’ll potentially lose me... as a friend or something. I understand why he wants to take a break. I understand that sex with someone else is a thrill and new and exciting. When we were younger I asked him if I could experiment with women since I felt I wasn’t able to explore my sexuality... and I did. And I feel like this hurt him really bad. and I regret it. But I understand where he’s coming from. Sorry for rambling.
The next night we talk, he lets me know the girl wasn’t actually someone he didn’t know, it was a girl he had a crush on in highschool. She knew that we were in a long term relationship. He told me he didn’t plan on it, it just happened. Drinks were involved but he admitted he wasn’t drunk just buzzed. I ask him if he wore a condom, if she had covid, if he liked it, if she has STDs. No condom, not sure about covid or stds. He did like it but he felt bad. He told me he didn’t orgasm and felt sick afterwords but also noted sometimes he feels sick after we have sex cause he goes too hard lmao.
I ask him that we need to figure out what we’re doing because I can’t be stuck in limbo like this. I know what I want, which is to work through this and salvage our relationship because I love him so dearly. He doesn’t know what he wants to do. He wants to see her, explore what if’s like to have sex with other women and also stay with me. I tell him I don’t think I could do that, right now I feel that’s not an option. I can’t do that. So I think we decided on a break. He’ll move out for a month and we won’t have contact and he can explore what he really wants and figure out who he is. It’s not an excuse but an explanation, that this year has been so weird and it’s okay to feel lost and not know what you’re doing with your life. I feel lost. He mentioned that me starting to mention rings and babies made him feel scared or feel weird, but I’m confused bebause for the longest time I said I didn’t want to get married because we could easily just stay together long term without investing a ton of money on a ceremony or whatever. He’s the one who mentioned babies, saying he wanted to have one with me and I said I didn’t feel ready yet. But I started to warm up to the idea of having a ceremony, getting rings, potentially having a child. I thought he wanted that so that’s why I started bring it up and talking about it. So that confused me.
I don’t want him to move out or leave me. We are best friends but I don’t think I could be just his friend it would be too painful. I am just waiting to see if he’s going to move out so we can start the break. All I want to do is hold him and love him... but I’m also so fucking angry.
What’s wrong with me? Am I not enough? Why are you choosing temporary dopamine over stability, love, comfort? Why is he thinking with his dick over his head? I’m sick. I can barely eat a few bites of something before I get disgusted. I’m disgusted. And hurt. And angry. But I love him. I’m so confused. Thank you for reading. There’s so much more to be said but I can’t type anymore.
Edit: have you ever taken a break? Was is helpful? What are some tips? I just want to be with him. He knows he hurt me. I’m wondering if he has a sex addiction since he expressed that he has this impulse to like search out porn, nudes, only fans and when he sees attractive women it makes him have fantasies...idk. So much to say and I feel like I can’t say it all. He was exposed to pornography young because his parents gave it to him... weird yeah. He also lost his virginity at like 12 or something ridiculous. He also took my virginity... Ugh.
I’m wondering if he really does love me and want to stay with me or if he just doesn’t know how to break up with me.. even though we are in love and everything was great. I told him to be authentic and honest with me even though it hurts, I deserve to be told what he really feels and wants. I asked him if he’s in love with me or if he just loves me. He replied isn’t that the same thing. I told him I can’t do any more I don’t knows. I told him to think incredibly deeply these next days and weeks about what he truly wants for the long term, not just the short term. I guess I need to too..
It’s hard to hear someone tell you every day that they love you with their whole heart, that you are their whole world, that they love you so much... see them every day hold them every night kiss them every day and then everything changes in a moment. I want this to be a bad dream. I’m having break downs at work. I don’t think he’s interested in becoming romantically involved with other people he just wonders about sex. I don’t know.
I coincidentally started therapy this Monday, I scheduled if two weeks ago when everything was normal hah. So I’m happy I’m able to sort through stuff with my new counselor. I’m struggling with intrusive images of self harm from self harming in the past and I have anxiety, ocd tendencies.
He vocalized that he was worried if I would hurt myself. I let him know that I don’t want that to be the reason he stayed with me if he was feeling like he needed to end it... but I told him I honestly wasn’t feeling safe with myself. He told me I’m the most stable thing he’s ever experienced and he’s worried he’s going to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him but the urges he has makes him feel doubt. I’m wondering if he’s confusing desire and lust with not wanting to me with me. Like he feels like the fact that he’s even having these thoughts of fantasies or that he feels attraction to other women means he feels? I don’t know. Doubt?
To be honest I self harmed but I didn’t cut. I got really overwhelmed in the shower and took it out on my body by scratching my stomach and legs violently and there’s still marks. I didn’t tell him about that because I don’t want him to feel guilty. I haven’t cut since the last time we broke up briefly 4+ years ago... over me wanting to explore my sexuality girls and him feeling like I cheated and he couldn’t bare it. But then we got back together and things were good. Which makes me wonder if we can get through this if we got through it then. Gosh. Humans are so complex. I love him. He knows my soul and I feel like he knows mine. My best friend. The person I want to share and tell everything to. The person I love to make love to and love when he loves me. We know what we’re thinking before we say it. We have so many inside jokes. It’s that person you feel so comfortable around you can just sit in silence and laugh and show them something funny and you both feel great. We can fart and be gross in front of eachother, leave the bathroom door open and laugh and have so many inside jokes. I feel like my identity is intertwined with him... and maybe him me.
I’m staying with my mom and family right now which is hard because this house is like my home before I moved out and is so comforting and familiar but also triggering because me and him lived here for six months before we got our own place. He took my virginity here. Kissed me for the first time here. Countless hours spent here with him. I imagine I’m going to have these feelings when I go back to our apartment too but. It’s really fucking triggering and a mind fuck. It’s home but it’s also a place of memories. I also I guess cheated on him here too with that girl. But it’s hard because my memory is so fucked I don’t remember if I manipulated him into giving me permission or if I went behind his back. We both only started referencing what happened between me and that girl this year and we don’t have a common understanding of the timeline. I’m sorry this is so long and non linear I really just need a place to rant, almost like a diary but I want people to see if for some reason if they resonate with it. My mom says I can come home and live with her if things don’t work out. She’s taking care of me but I know she’s stressed too, raising teenagers and being a human and she has her own issues she’s deLing with. I feel like a burden sort of. I don’t drive or have a car so I’m reliant on her for rides. I love my family so fucking much.
And that’s the other thing is I’m intertwined with his family. His sisters love me and his mom and I talk probably more than they do. I’m like the conduit or bridge between them and him, when they need to talk to him they message me, they’re still interacting with me on Facebook and it makes me sad.
submitted by throwaway_throwawayp to AsOneAfterInfidelity [link] [comments]

2020.10.13 01:00 azade12 📷 I only need two buttons, Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V.

I only need two buttons, Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V. copypasta JOINHotNewTopNEW POSTS83Posted byu/GeniusDude279 hours ago
I like ya cut g 📷
young supposedly African American male is playing a digital video game on a cellular device old supposedly African American male walks up to him while recording on a cellular device Supposedly older African American male : Oh, I see and understand that you (younger African American male), are partaking in the enjoyment of playing the digital video game made by mojang studios widely known as Minecraft. I particularly enjoy your new haircut, g. I will now proceed to slap you in the back of your cranium with the palm of my hand. older supposedly African American male proceeds with the action he said he would do younger supposedly African American male proceeds to shriek at a very high pitch with his vocal cords the video recording then ends, with the younger supposedly African American male screeching
This is humorous due to the fact that the slap in the back of the cranium is very unexpected, and also the unorthodox conversation as “oh you playin Minecraft”, and, “I like ya cut g”. Overall, this is a 7/10 on the humorous scale.
14 CommentsGive AwardShareSave147Posted byu/starcringe14 hours ago
Then she tried to jack me off 📷
My gf was slow cooking ribs and I guess there were done in the middle of the night. So this woman wakes me up at 3AM and goes "Here babe, I've been trying how to cook properly so i can be a good wife in the future." So we sat in bed and ate ribs. We stare at each other and It was indeed love. I've found my soulmate.
Then she tried to jack me off
15 CommentsGive AwardShareSave21Posted byu/Capital_Invite5 hours ago
Guys please click on this reddit is my last hope... 📷
So i was doing the dishes but then i accidentally smashed a plate. So my mom threw the fucking fridge at me. Now she is blaming me for the broken fridge and she says I have to pay for it :( I'm really upset. My mom told me to make her a cup of coffee, but when i didn't add any cream she got out a fucking gun. Luckily I managed to dodge the shot. I'm really scared what should I do? If I try and call the police she might hear me and smash the phone. I might try and climb out the window and sprint to my uncle's house. It might be too risky tho.
I'm currently hiding in our washing machine. Help is appreciated! Send help!
Edit: she found me running on the street and shot me twice. Im bleeding and i think im gonna die. Please help. She is still talking abt how I have to pay for the fridge
Edit 2: my right hand fell off. Typing with one hand will be hard but ill try
Edit 3: its midnight
Edit 6: i am on the plane to Norway to live with my great-grandfather.
Edit 7: my plane is going to fucking crash. We are over the arctic circle and they are sending emergency broadcasts.
Edit 8: my mom called me and told me shes forgiven me
Edit 9: i no longer have to pay for the fridge :)
Edit 14: Thanks for the support, everyone! Especially all those gold awards 😋😁 yum
6 CommentsGive AwardShareSave24Posted byu/CooIpenguin16 hours ago
I cummybot2000 will cum if this gets 2 upvotes 📷
I, u/cummybot2000 hereby commit to cumming if this comment gets 2 upvotes
9 CommentsGive AwardShareSave46Posted byu/Jack-Land11 hours ago📷📷
Haha awards are so dumb right guys they're just paid emojis am I right 📷
Haha awards are so dumb right guys they're just paid emojis am I right
Edit: u/Johnlasagan You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as an insult by edgy twelve year olds. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sac religious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. We might as well never have been born, because surely not any amount of satanic mass would be able to affect the world as negatively as you just did. The only reason I am not reporting you to the police as we speak is that I know for a fact that their weak, pathetic prisons will never be able to hold such an indescribable evil. No wonder your dad beat you when you were little, it turns out he was trying to guard the world from the colossal mistake he had created. Jesus had every right to try to make you retarded, because he was only trying to immobilize the incredible failure that is you so that your terrible mistakes may not spread to innocent foreign countries all over the world. He has not succeeded though, because your indescribable failure was on such an incredibly ginormous scale, that not even the possible life forms at the edge of the universe could have been guarded from it. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. I may not be a human, but I will forever have more humanity than you, for you are truly a wretched, horrible, filthy, evil monster because of what you just did. No wonder society rejected you: you were eventually going to break it beyond recognition. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. The world would have been so much better of if you had never joined it. You say you want to help the world but then you destroy everything everyone has ever worked for to such an extreme extent immediately when you have the chance? You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. We could just have you replace Satan, except even Satan is not that evil, and because of his motherfucking trickery he at least is fucking useful! Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if there was a god, he would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror movies made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the viewer has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. In the future, YouTube videos will get demonetized for making a sound that even resembles your name, and social media posts will get flagged and taken down for daring to speak about a topic like you. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you. Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did. The nations of this world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring. You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the plague apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created. If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again. The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world and the Milky Way, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world. You are an irresponsible, idiotic, disgusting, unloved, horrible excuse for a living being who’s soul contains less humanity than every ginger in history combined. There is no one in this world that has ever loved you, and especially after what you just did, no one will ever love you in the future either. There is no hope that your idiotic behavior and especially your crooked soul will ever change for the better, and in fact quite the opposite might be true. By making the mistake that you just did, you have shown me that you are so incredibly hopeless that you will only devolve into a more idiotic and wretched creature than you already are. The only possible way in which your future would be brighter than the black hole your existence currently is would exclusively be because there is absolutely no conceivable way that you would even be able to sink lower than the pathetic place your current failure has put you in. But than again, you are so incredibly abominable that you would probably be able to surpass the worst conceivable failure a living being could possibly make. You are so incredibly pathetic that you are honestly not worthy of any more of my words nor my time. Just know that I will forever detest you for your failure and everything you stand for, and that no matter what happens, I will never ever forgive you.
10 CommentsGive AwardShareSave33Posted byu/girls-pmmeyournudes9 hours ago📷
Oh Cummy, 📷
From the moment I laid my eyes on you I could tell you were the hottest piece of meat I’ve ever seen. Every night I’d drool, piss, shit, cum, and shiver at the thought of your humid breath caressing the back of my neck. I’ll keep this short and sweet Cummy, I love you, I always have. Will you marry me?
10 CommentsGive AwardShareSave•Posted byu/Civexian1 hour ago
Hey women - CAN I MARRY YOUR BOOBIES?!?! 📷
Hey women!!! “I am totally not a nerd” swoons down and kisses you xD thats my catchphrase so we can identify eachother... well basicaley I (34m) and my girlfriend or gf (21f trigender septsexual) is SUPER GOTH and has HUGE Boobs!?!?? XD I always get so distracted ... (have ADHD) well, anyways her face is DISGUSTING... xd what do i do.... her MILKIES are huge tho, and i want to marrier her TITTLES, but not her. So, women, can i do this??!??!?
4 CommentsGive AwardShareSave288Posted byu/Isa-lizard22 hours ago📷
I am not gay nsfw📷37 CommentsGive AwardShareSave•Posted byu/imneverusingreddit2 hours ago📷
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5 CommentsGive AwardShareSave15Posted byu/Surgicalcell6 hours ago
The stages of gay 📷
The stages of gay:

  1. ⁠denial
  2. ⁠im straight but I like that guy
  3. ⁠maybe I am bi
  4. ⁠women aren’t hot, only guys
  5. ⁠typing this while sucking a dick
  6. ⁠oh yeah cum in me baby
  7. ⁠same time next week?
  8. ⁠I can’t get enough dick
5 CommentsGive AwardShareSave•Posted byu/ShadowStryk3r34 minutes ago
Let's say you were to bang a zombie. 📷
Let's say you were to touch a zombie's boob. It would be soft, not firm, even during rigor mortis, because boob has no muscle in it. Let's also say that for some reason you were to bang a zombie. For simplicity, the virus will keep the corpse in the state it was infected. If the zombie has been reanimated during the rigor mortis phase, it's insides will all be extremely tight and will stay mostly tight, so you'll get something along the lines of jiangshi. If corpse has been reanimated after rigor mortis, muscles will be relatively relaxed, and have some to little energy in them. And no, it is not necrophilia because the corpse has been reanimated by living viruses. Lips would depend on death stage, cuz muscles. Let's also say the virus restored more function than basic instincts (id). It would probably have to reconstruct neurons in the speech sections to talk, and more neurons for fine muscle movement. Given enough proper development, zombies would be able to speak. This wouldn't sound nice tho, since, y'know, the muscle issue. If the virus is especially advanced, it may restore muscle function to a point where it can control itself better (pinch hard, pinch soft, etc.). If the virus is so advanced where it completely restores normal function, then it may be reclassified as a human again. Memories would be dependent on how deteriorated the brain is. If the memory section of the brain is even slightly messed up, there would be blank spots in said person's memory, or none at all. Many factors come into play. If the body is very freshly dead, then the advanced zombie virus would completely restore the person, warm body and all. As for energy gathering, the most likely option would be to restart organs and start consuming food. The virus, seeing no need for our way reproduction, may develop a way to transfer itself to others. Perhaps through airborne spores, or thru body contact and boarding. The reproductive systems of human body may be used as a form of transfer, but this would have varying effectiveness, as no one wants to bang a dead-lookin thing. If the corpse is not fresh, then violation or another form of reproduction must be developed. If the virus reaches such a stage that it can be on par with humans, then it's literally just gonna be humans. But dead. Feel free to correct me, I am trying to make this as polished as possible. (You can cut these last two sentences out for copy pasting. Discord will mark this as too big, by the way.)
5 CommentsGive AwardShareSave10Posted byu/paperr-cranes5 hours ago
if you're going down a river at 2 MPH and your canoe loses a wheel, how much pancake mix would you need to re-shingle your roof? 📷
Well we can eliminate the the unnecessary information and get to our main question, how much pancake mix is needed to re shingle the roof. The standard roof has 240’ shingles on it so if we do an even spread of the pancake mix (to use as an adhesive) we would need to cover 24,000 square feet of a Gable roof. The standard bag of pancake mix is 32 oz that means in a thin paste we can cover 475 sq ft. So all we need to do is divide. If we divide 24,000/475 we get around 51 bags of pancake mix. If each bag of pancake mix costs an average of 7.42 we would get a cost of 378 dollars and 42 cents.
4 CommentsGive AwardShareSave7Posted byu/TheTwoHB3 hours ago
I want to bang the JFK clone from Clone High so goddamn bad 📷
Holy fucking shit, I want to bang the JFK clone from Clone High so goddamn bad. Even before the memes my lust for him was immeasurable but now, now I see him fucking everywhere and it makes my cock ache. I religiously watch Clone High JFK funniest moments compilations while stroking my dick and only nut when it reaches that one episode where JFK has Homoerotic feelings for Joan who is dressed as a man. Every second JFK from Clone High isn’t rawing my ass is a second of unimaginable pain and suffering. I want to fuck JFK.
10 CommentsGive AwardShareSave24Posted byu/rp0p11 hours ago
Copypasta put through emojifier bot 23 times 📷
Hey 👋 👋 there. This will be a repeated 🔄 🔄 copypasta 🍝 🍝 which will be deleted ❌ 🔥 exactly 👌🙈😏 👌 23 👔🛣 👔🛣 times 🕐🕛🍆 🕐 until this sentence ✍ 🤐 turns 🔄 💃 into a whole 💦😍 💦 paragraph 😁😂😃 😁😂😃 because of the sheer 😔😍🙁 😁 amount 🔢📉 🔢📉 of emojis 😂 😂 in it.
8 CommentsGive AwardShareSave17Posted byu/pinkmariahh9 hours ago
dude, come here.. 📷
dude, come here 👋 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘺..? 😬 i fuckin knew it dude 😫 you have like a ✨boyfriend✨ or what? oh! sooo cuuute 🤗 i knew- you know how i know dude? 😌 cause you be lookin 👀 around and shit 🙂 thats so cute 🤗 a lot of people would be scared 😨 here.. a lot of people would be ✨scared✨ and 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘮 🤭
4 CommentsGive AwardShareSave380Posted byu/ToAsTyBoI-_-1 day ago
My school has banned dildos so me and my mom bought 200 dildos and i'm gonna give everyone a dildo on monday and everyone is gonna protest and aggressively masturbate against the school's anti-dildo rule on monday!
(obviously sarcasm to fight the karma-whore fighting the karma whore by being a karma whore)
14 CommentsGive AwardShareSave•Posted byu/--YoshikageKira--26 minutes ago
Can we talk about holdthemoan 📷
Since were talking about NSFW subreddits, can we talk about holdthemoan? I've been dying to talk about holthemoan. Lets talk about holdthemoan. For those who don't know, holdthemoan is a subreddit about people touching themselves or fucking in public while people are in close proximity. Where you have to hold the moan or be caught.
It is trashy as hell and kind of messed up for involving nonconsenting people in your voyeurs fetish. Anyway, were not discussing morality of this subreddit. Were talking about how that subreddit has been ruined by coomers and "verified amateurs".
When holdthemoan got popular, these "verified amateurs" came in and started flooding the subreddit with vague photos that hardly relate to the subreddit. Flashing your tits in an empty Walmart isle isn't holdthemoan, that is PublicFlashing. No Patrick, flashing your pussy in the woods isn't holdthemoan too. These "verified amateurs" flood dozens of different subreddits to get karma and sell their nudes in the DM.
I have no issue with anyone making money by selling nudes or sex tapes. I have an issue with spamming subreddits with content that isn't directly related to them. You would think the subreddit's community won't stand for this spam. Yet, they're all like the comments in this video. They're just coomers hitting on these women.
But what about the moderators? They don't care about it. They relaxed the rules. They would have the subreddit be full of spam. Instead of a nicely curated subreddit with relevant content.
They rolled out the red carpet for these "verified amateurs" to just flood their subreddit. Because they didn't want to moderate the subreddit. Fucking coomers.
4 CommentsGive AwardShareSave12.1kPosted byu/GiraffeGyro1 day ago📷8📷7📷5📷5& 15 More
Among Us hater gets owned epicly 😎😎😎 📷
Red sus. Red suuuus. I said red, sus, hahahahaha. Why arent you laughing? I just made a reference to the popular video game "Among Us"! How can you not laugh at it? Emergeny meeting! Guys, this here guy doesnt laugh at my funny Among Us memes!
submitted by azade12 to copypasta [link] [comments]

2020.10.12 20:55 CaithAmach2332 Step mom nude video

Hi All,
Using a throwaway for obvious reasons but I have no issue with discussing my experiences openly and truthfully on this messy and distressing topic.
What I am looking to achieve here is a comparison of experiences. Trying to figure out if my situation lines up correctly with others. It will hopefully also provide a cathartic experience whereby typing my experiences down might help open my eyes and help break and move on from what I think is a porn addiction. Unfortunately it revolves around gender which is making it difficult for me to resolve the issue, as I cant see the wood for the trees as they say.
A brief summary of my remembered childhood crossdressing experiences - Before the age of 12 or so;

Most of these experiences I couldn't explain the why of what I was doing, some of it I believe was innocent childhood fun such as asking my mom to put lipstick on me, that I recall was simply funny to me.
After the age of 12 or so I wore my mom and my sisters clothes at random occasions, none of it being sexual to my memory. It wasn't until I was about 15 that I first masterbated, which I believe to be later than other people based on anecdotal stories. I only did it as an experiment because I had heard a rumour of other guys in school having done it so I wanted to see why, I had no clue what an orgasm was and it came as quite a surprise when it first happened. After that, I eventually found wearing female clothes arousing, but it hadnt always been. I was 'hetero' at the time, and began watching porn at this age which was normal stuff. Internet chat rooms were all the rage and I recall pretending to be a girl in them to solicit nudes from other users, which often turned out to be other guys pretending to be girls to solicit nudes.
I remember around this time moving on and just pretending to be a girl in chat rooms. At this time I didn't know anything about transitioning, but knew it was possible to live as the other gender somehow. Going onto lesbian dating sites and telling anyone who would listen that I was hoping to be a girl at some stage and just chatting about that.
Around this age I got my first girlfriend, she had initiated interest, and while I was attracted to women, I never sought them out at the time, similarly to how I believe when I first masterbated was through naivety. We dated for several months and were sexually active together, though not penetrative due to lack of contraceptives. It was around this time I had begun cross dressing in my step sisters clothes who was a similar age to me, and much younger than my mom who's clothing I didn't like because I felt it wasn't my style. My girlfriend became supportive of me crossdressing and it didn't phase her, she even bought me clothes etc. We went from fooling around to me wanting to be touched the way I would touch her, before we broke up, our final experience was me wearing girls jeans and a top and her feeling me up as if I had the parts of a girl. Sexually it was very enjoyable for me, but I think by this stage it had worn out its welcome with her. I eventually broke up with her to move on to another girl which was short lived, and then my third and last girlfriend (for over 10 years) which lasted several months before ending.
While with my second girlfriend I had further experience in sexual interaction with another person, but before long I can remember the crossdressing thing beginning to rear up when I discussed it with her. I ended things quickly with this girl just on the basis she wasn't what I was looking for. My third girlfriend I don't recall there ever being any gender issues during our time, I was quite the masculine boyfriend with her but she eventually moved on from me.
I crossdressed on and off between 15-20 years old before it mostly went away for a while. It was largely sexual by the end of it, fetishistic crossdressing is the term I believe. However there were many times I would sleep in pyjamas or tshirts given to me by my first girlfriend, she had given me some old training bras as well. I'm a little on the chubby side, so I have slight man boobs. I can remember vividly wearing these tank top style pyjama tops and training bras to bed looking at my chest and wishing to wake up with real breasts.
I'm currently 30 but during my early to mid 20's it all came to a head where I began buying my own clothes and over time I had a wardrobe of my own clothes, shoes, underwear, accessories, jewellery, handbags etc etc, I even bought my own makeup and through constant trial and error, managed to make it look natural and could apply it correctly. I became quite stylish in my outfits too, while I may have been masterbating about it at night, during the day it didn't feel entirely sexual (whether it was running at the back of my mind, under the hood the whole time is another thing). I bought wigs, breast forms and so on, the whole shebang. I eventually grew out my own hair, got my ears pierced and did as much as I could to make everything as real as possible, but while still being able to go under the radar. I had broken down one night in front of a friend after a visit to a strip club with a group of the guys, when I was asked what was wrong, I blurted out I wanted to be a girl, and I don't know why that happened, it wasn't on my mind. I eventually began coming out to my friends and family because this felt more like I was trans than a crossdresser. I came out to work colleagues, created a new facebook account as my new self and so on. I celebrated one of my birthdays (maybe 26th or 27th) with a group of friends with me in my female persona at a gay bar and had a wonderful time apart from the anxiety inducing aspects of it. I began seeing a counsellor because I began hating my body, voice, features etc and truly believed I was actually transgender. What else would account for all I had done?
I didn't find the experience helpful, and at this point in my life I was miserable, my thoughts were 24/7 racing through my mind thinking I was transgender, sleep was a relief because my brain would stop thinking. I was likely suffering depression but it didn't feel the same as it had when I suffered a bout of it at 19 over unrelated problems (unemployment during the global recession) so I thought it was dysphoria. I would eventually see a psychologist who made the idea of attempting transitioning seem realistic and achievable, but without forcing me in to it. I began my first treatment of facial laser hair removal as my facial hair disgusted me, prevented me from wearing makeup whenever I chose and made me upset.
I eventually stopped seeking counselling as it wasn't what I thought it would be, I had half hoped it would provide a diagnosis almost, thereby resolving me of the need to decide to transition, instead it would be a necessity. I stopped the laser treatments as well out of worry in case I was making the wrong decision. I went to my doctor and went onto anti anxiety pills because I was a wreck by this point and life had become very difficult, mentally, for me. The pills lowered my libido (which helped me conclude that it was sexual reasons fueling this desire), the daily masterbation went away but I felt miserable. After a few months I went cold turkey off the anti anxiety tablets because I was taking them to deal with the result of my gender problems, I didn't want to associate with that any more so the tablets had to go. I cut my hair off which was now shoulder length, dumped all my clothes, makeup and prosthetics etc. I became so ashamed at this point, because I had opened up to everyone that I felt I was letting them down, as if I had lied. I also couldn't bring up the sexual element primarily out of shame and that I feared people would think I was either a predator or a pervert. None of this was the case to me, I genuinely thought I was transgender and that my sexual fantasies were about me, me being the girl. I did eventually become happy again as a guy, and have been living as a man, and have been enjoying being a man for the last few years. It is starting to crumble again, and I believe, or hope that it is because of porn.
One of my thought processes during this 'trans' experience I lived was that I wanted my female friends to see me as a lame duck, that I wasn't a man, I wasn't a threat and that I only wanted to be a 'gal pal' to them. During my teen years I was an awful angry, bigoted guy; homophobic, racist, I was even misogynistic. Through 'coming out' I broke down all these barriers and became a nicer, more caring and considerate person. This was partly through avoiding hypocrisy of wanting to be accepted, partly because women tend to be, from my experience, more open and accepting so I wanted to emulate that etc.
Fast forward to now, I haven't cross dressed in a couple of years, I have had minimal to virtually no desire to do so. I have tried to roll back my personality to the pre-coming out stage, minus the bigotry and aggressiveness etc. But what I have discovered is that I solely watch transgender porn now, as I have done for the last few years, but I wonder if I am using it as a crutch; I know similarly to others here, I imagine myself as the female in the videos which is why I cant enjoy straight porn. The trans questioning has slightly returned, my masterbation has increased from once a day, to polluting my thoughts and having typed all this out, I can see how early on porn was an issue, and sexual problems were prevalent. My last and most recent ex-girlfriend two years ago led me to discovering that while I had love and romantic interest in a partner, I lack lust and desire, most likely due to porn use. As a result, I have realised my lack of relationships over the last 10 years is due to lack of desire. I always wondered why I was different to friends who were always successful with girls and I believe that is because I had no sexual desire which is the great attractor. I have also become submissive, in the sense I want someone to approach me, I also am thinking about myself in the wrong way, I want someone to look or feel my ass the same way a girl would use hers to draw attention.
Some of my further issues with this transgender porn is that I have had more sexual experiences with men than I have with women, despite being a 'straight guy', I don't find men attractive or have any romantic interest in them. I wont lie and say I hated the experiences, I enjoyed them at the time, but I undertook them on the basis of being the girl in the situations. In the gay community the term would be a power bottom; I was envisioning myself as a girl, I wanted to feel that way through sex, so I hooked up 2-3 times with guys to get what I wanted and did what I enjoyed with them, regardless of their desires in the situation. At present, a close gay friend of mine uses the gay hook up app Grindr, and I find myself thought wise, regressing, to wanting to download it to have sex with a man to get the validation I want, despite presently being 100% male in appearance.
I am at the point where I am bored of looking at porn, I don't want to use it anymore because it is affecting my ability to have a relationship, but due to it being transgender porn it is having a terrible effect on what I think is my gender identity, and slightly to my sexuality. While some here have posted about sissy porn which I also watch, I find it doesn't affect me in all the same ways, I don't enjoy the humiliation or cuckold aspect, I view it as a 'it takes away my decision responsibility'. I used to get annoyed there wasn't more affirmative sissy porn, whereby instead of it degrading you as a man, it built you up as a woman. The mistresses so frequent in this type of porn seem malicious and I always wondered why they weren't trying to bring you to their level of 'look, being a woman is amazing, you can be like me'.
My final point here; I have moved away from consistently thinking I am trans to thinking I have a porn addiction, an addiction I am finding I am losing to but I am starting to go down the AGP rabbit hole, and that to me seems like it has no positive resolution to, it seems like a 'you're fucked' kind of thing. I know what I have to do, simply cold turkey porn and hope to reset myself over time. Keeping busy and avoiding boredom and isolation with masterbating is the key to it, my problem is the rise of the 'am I actually trans?' thoughts filling in the gaps (which I'm sure is simply my brain latching onto the dopamine producer), the hopelessness of the AGP situation if that has any credence, to thinking that being cis and alpha masculine is not as exciting or desirable (which again is likely the brain resisting something non sexual because there won't be a dopamine hit). I am also afraid, I am afraid of getting close to a girl and coveting her body sexually and that problem not ever going away. Currently I look at some of my female friends and want to be them and my worry is cold turkeying porn, but having nothing to reset to, I began watching porn at 15 and some of my first sexual experiences were from crossdressing.
Does anyone relate to this at all, have I missed something obvious that can set me on the right path? Has this helped anyone else see the truth of their own experiences?
submitted by CaithAmach2332 to TGandSissyRecovery [link] [comments]

2020.10.05 21:50 fractalfay I’d rather just get a dog: Recap of 90DF Happily Ever After, Tell-All Part 2

Shaun: Welcome back to part two and our three part Tell-All event, where we fill you in on parts of the cast’s lives that you’ve already read about on Instagram. My name’s Shaun, and my DoorDash order should be here any second. Mother Asuelu, which personality are you going with tonight?
Mother Asuelu: Whatever money they want to send is good, thank you so much. Now give me money.
Shaun: Martyr, right. Do you still want Asuelu to divorce Kalani?
Mother: Whatever will make the rain fall down on my bank account. It’s so cloudy outside, so many clouds.
Shaun: I understand that it rains frequently in the PacNW, Tammy.
Tammy: Your business is my business, and my business is none of yours. It’s called trickle down economics, Shaun.
Shaun: I’m pretty sure I benefit from this.
Koloni: You don’t even math, Tammy.
Tammy: Oh, there’s no math in this. Just all the money at the top. Down here, it’s easy to count to zero.
Koloni: How much money do you send to your mom, Tammy? Bitchassslutasswhore.
Tammy: I’ll fight you too.
Kalani: (Literally produces a giant container of popcorn, winning the Tell-All in a single blow.)
Tammy: I’ll fight you too, Shaun.
Shaun: Whoa, what just happened here? As soon as I finish petting my hair, I’m going to “lets move on” you.
Debbie: What about me? I like to be included.
Tammy: I’ll fight you, too.
Debbie: (Tags Angela.)
Tammy: I believe I am ready. I’ve been dead inside for years. See me. I don’t even need anesthetic at the dentist. I don’t even need to close my eyes when I sleep. I haven’t stood up straight in 25 years.
Angela: OH I see you, and yes you can come over for dinner on Thursday. Don’t even THINK about showing up empty handed. And potato chips is NOT a potluck contribution. Swindle cake is welcome.
Tammy: If I bring chips, it’s Kalani’s fault.
Kalani: (Popcorn, still.)
Shaun: Fair enough. Kalani, can you tell us what you were feeling in this video where you’re crying?
Kalani: Really, Shaun?
Andrei: She clearly loves him a lot because she puts up with his shit.
Libby: Yeah, that’s how love is defined. Get a job, Asuelu. Just call your dad already, and ask if you can write numbers in the upper left hand of papers four hours a day in exchange for all your living expenses.
Shaun: Libby, do you know what self-awareness is?
Libby: Oh, you know I don’t! (Saucy neck movement.)
Producers: Eating chips.
Shaun: Okay, someone is eating chips in my ear.
Producers: (wipes hands across shirt, opens fresh bag)
Shaun: I thought we talked about the chips thing, and agreed this would happen only through Colt’s segment?
Producers: Angela said chips, you know what we have to do.
Angela: Dangit, I just said you don’t bring that shit to a potluck! It don’t make no sense.
Asuelu: (Gets up to go play video games in the basement.)
Kalani: He always does this when he misses his sons and wants to work things out.
Debbie: He’s a weenie. I’m sorry, he is.
Shaun: A weenie?
Debbie: I said what I said.
Shaun: Okay, Angela, can you raspy-shout over this?
Tammy: Kalani just needs to step up and potty train my brother already. He just stormed away with a full diaper again. This is her fault.
Kalani: He blocked my number. Like an adult. Is this my fault, too?
Tammy: Yes.
Kalani: (Chews.)
Shaun: I’ve just learned that we managed to rescue Vanessa from a violent nude palette attack in the belly of Sephora. Vanessa, can you hear me? Thank you for taking some time away from the safari to make excuses for Colt.
Debbie: I can’t do this all by myself. I could use a little help sometimes, jeez Louise.
Vanessa: Hi Shaun. I just want to start out by saying I don’t feel guilty about being a mistress twice. This is not about guilt or shame. Colt and Keith Raniere assure me that this things can be overcome if I punch down and have sex with them.
Shaun: What? I’m sorry, I was sleeping. Quick, what adult is being a toddler and what toddler is being an adult?
Tammy: My brother is the answer to this riddle.
Colt: I don’t see what any of this has to do with me having sex!
Shaun: Oh shit, we brought Vanessa out, didn’t we? I thought maybe Larissa and Jess had a child together. And we’re back.
Vanessa: Look, I wasn’t chasing Colt. I was in the middle of an ugly divorce and wanted to feel worse.
Larissa: Crocodile!
Lizard people: We do not claim him as one of our own.
Colt: Larissa wouldn’t listen to me, so I HAD to have an affair, and Vanessa reached out to me! Not my fault! I wanted to date Vanessa.
Vanessa: Yeah, I said no.
Jess: Why did you start dating me?
Colt: I believe Vanessa just answered that question.
Jess: You lie to me and you use me. You will clutch Debbie’s decaying body in your arms and drag her to bathtub with you until you’re both devoured by maggots.
Colt: Is this segment about my dick, or what?
Jess: “My name is Colt, I’m a good guy and all the women I date are crazy! Look at me, I took the red pill! Soooo yummy!”
Vanessa: I somehow believe Colt is the victim here, and that’s the basis of our friendship.
Colt: I don’t think I even loved Jess. This is how I ruin people for decades.
Jess: You like to play with women. You want attention.
Tania: I believe this is what’s known as “being called out” and I don’t like where this is going, but can we please go back to a world where Colt doesn’t fuck?
Larissa: I put a GPS on Colt car, and even that didn’t have air conditioning.
Vanessa: I know Colt constantly lies to women, but I’m his best friend.
Shaun: How do you defend his actions?
Kalani: (Popcorn.)
Vanessa: He goes from girl to girl.
Colt: Look, serial killers have their trophies, and I have mine.
Jess: Karma police! You must arrest this man.
Debbie: Does “gaslight” mean that your light shines on everyone or something? That’s pretty weenie. No, cheesy. Hmm, cheesy weenie. I know what’s for dinner tonight!
Jess: You’re a liar. All the time you lie. You manipulate women. Why Colt? Why? You are bad person. Why you start with dates for me because you love Vanessa?
Colt: Does it matter? I was lying then, and I’m lying now, but I’m making my tone aggressive enough that you’re supposed to doubt your opinion in response to my rage.
Larissa; Shut UP-E! He’s a liar.
Politifact: This statement is rated TRUE.
Debbie: I need to get out of here before I get any of this truth in my eyes.
Shaun: Colt, I’m feeling kind of ill, but I’m supposed to give you one more push around the douchebag-go-round. Also, did you know that if you stare at Jess’ jewelry without blinking, you can play Candy Crush with your mind? While I’m busy with that, are you dating Vanessa?
Colt: I wish, he says smarmily. Damn, I wasn’t supposed to say that second part out loud. Now people can google my fan fiction. (Looks at camera.)
Shaun: Let’s forget about Colt. Vanessa, would you be upset if a man were to treat you this way?
Vanessa: Look, I was accused of sleeping with Colt, which I was doing, while he was dating and married to these bitches. This is clearly a unique situation unlike every other cheating saga. (Walks off.)
Shaun: Vanessa, um…well. At least we have less khaki. Let’s take a break so Colt can stop talking.
Colt: Hey Jess, how’s your day.
Jess: STFU, Colt.
Shaun: Let’s welcome Tania and Syngin to the zoom square. Syngin, have you ever heard of Fabio? He’s the only person I could think of as obsessed with his hair as you are.
Syngin: Fabio. Is he the Kardashian who said he was going to design socks? Who even does that? Anyway, yes, I’m working as a server. America’s working system is quite unique. I get paid like $2 an hour, and then I have to hope customers are willing to pay for their dinner twice. Sometimes they do, and I’m supposed to post this on social media immediately. This is also work. I miss just getting paid.
Tammy: See? Trickle down economics.
Shaun: Tania, have you thought about dating an adult?
Tania: But how would I control him, Shaun?
Shaun: Maybe you wouldn’t control them?
Tania: I don’t understand.
Drascilla: The children will not be controlled either! (Starts art-punk band where she just screams “bitch” into the microphone for two hours while someone rolls around on a canvas covered in paint, crying.)
Shaun: How did she get here? We’re gonna take a quick break, because I should not have taken so many edibles before watching the latest episode of Lovecraft Country.
Drascilla: (Backflips into open manhole.)
Deavan: I think we can all agree that JIhoon was really abusive right there.
Shaun: I thought we blocked Deavan? Tania, in what ways do you not see eye to eye on?
Tania: I like to plan his future, and he doesn’t.
Syngin: She likes to plan a future for me where she gets to be a housewife.
Tania: This is not about you, Syngin. Ever.
Syngin: I figure in about three months I’ll be miserable enough that I can cleanly say, “Well, I did all I can…” without being accused of giving up too easily. Until then, I’ll just keep this plane ticket warm in my front shirt pocket, and will remove it sometimes to stare at it longingly.
Tania: Everything will be fine. We just need to communicate. Our arguments were starting to get super toxic.
Shaun: I’m sorry, did you just say, “starting” or…
Syngin: Oh, we communicate. We communicate over and over and over and over. That’s how we know we can’t stand each other. Communicating over and over and over again.
Shaun: I imagine this lockdown didn’t help.
Syngin: I have discovered the healing powers of Skip-bo, once you rework the game so it’s one-player. All that time in the house together makes you realize all the things you don’t want to live with.
Tania: Really, it’s his drinking.
Syngin: Look, I’m from South Africa. Lots of people get fired for being drunk on the job. Lots of people pour beer over their breakfast cereal, face plant in it, and later eat the cereal off their elbows. I love America. Did I mention the 9 months of winter, the season I hate?
Andrei: It’s important to always blame woman for drinking problem, like the man of the house.
Tania: I’m going to vaguely allude to something I’m not going to talk about.
Shaun: Am I supposed to take the bait, because yeah, don’t care.
Tania: No, Shaun (collapses onto fainting couch). I couldn’t possibly say. I simply COULDN’T. I’m not that petty (cutting look to Syngin).
Syngin: Yeah, say whatever. This is me being out of fucks to give.
Tania: But what about your fucks for the future?
Syngin: Can you YEET a relationship? I feel like this is kind of like one of those YEET situations.
Shaun: Wait — are you guys talking about divorce?
Syngin: Shaun, you are the only person shocked by this information.
Shaun: Look, the slide clearly says “shock” and I’m just trying to get paid.
Tania: We’ve been talking about divorce since before we got married.
Shaun: Let’s welcome Syngin’s friends Andrew and James to the show. Hi guys! Do you know where the bodies are buried?
Andrew and James: We might have bought a tarp from time to time, but this time I don’t think Syngin knew what he was getting himself into.
Kalani: (Popcorn.)
Shaun: Now, can you detail how wrong Tania is?
Andrew: Totally wrong. In every way. About everything. She said ham was made from pigs, and ever since then I’ve been all beef. There is no other white meat, Shaun.
Shaun: Are we talking about meat products?
James: We are, Shaun. We know that Syngin isn’t an alcoholic because he’s still holding down the job he can’t participate in because of COVID-19.
Syngin: Not showing up and getting paid is the job I’ve always wanted.
Everyone: Same.
Andrew Yang: Hi, I’m from the future. Did someone say basic income?
Shaun: Whoa, what just happened here?
Tania: He couldn’t get a worker’s permit because of his drinking!
Debbie: I know a lot of people that held down jobs with drinking problems. Like my son, for example.
Colt: Would you stop drinking to save your marriage?
Syngin: That’s a nope from me.
James: (Drinking.)
Tania: I’m pretending this isn’t happening, since this is the sort of marriage I was certain I was too smart for.
Shaun: James, did Syngin seem different to you?
James: Well, he was wearing a mask. Maybe an N95, maybe a K99, we don’t know what these codes mean. He also wouldn’t come within six feet of us, or shake our hands, not even a little tongue-kiss. It must be Tania’s fault.
Andrei: It pleases me when woman is blamed.
Andrew: She took over our bachelor pad, and I never recovered from those lost months of inconvenience. She moved my cheese.
Tania: There was nothing to move around but spice racks.
Shaun: Tania, were there spice racks in your shed?
Tania: Look, people in glass houses throw all the stones; otherwise, they’ll never get out.
James: Since apparently I’m an authority on relationships, I have to ask: Is this a good fit, Tania?
Syngin: Maybe, like, 55%.
James: Is this a good fit TANIA?
Tania: I am never going to let this go, because starting fresh with someone else will only further delay my baby plans.
Shaun: So Tania, you think Syngin is your match, and Syngin already has fresh online dating profiles. Are you soul mates?
Tania: The closer we get to breaking up, the more I know he’s the one.
Syngin: I’ll give it three more months. Enough time so I can tell myself I did all I can, but not so long that I start to feel like I’ve wasted my life.
Tania: It’s hard to put a time on it.
Syngin: Tania, I just did.
Tania: Yes but I didn’t say it, so I didn’t hear it.
Colt: Look Shaun, I like to fuck.
Shaun: Why do I keep forgetting to mute you? This thing mutes, right?
Larissa: Well, I had issues with depression and anxiety, and was taking pills —
Larissa: You see? This is why I say shut up-e. It’s not enough without the extra e when you are that terrible.
Shaun: Can we stop talking about sex? Angela, get me out of here. I don’t even care if it’s about Michael taking a shower and strip dances.
Angela: How about a return to the baffling story about pregnancy expectations at 54?
Shaun: Seems like a familiar road, but at least it’s away from Colt.
Angela: If it’s not my biological child, it’s an affair.
Politifact: We rated this claim PANTS ON FIRE.
Michael: Can I get to America first before she files for divorce?
Shaun: Let’s bring out Skyla so you can browbeat her about an egg. Again. Are these last year’s slides? I feel like these are last year’s slides…
Skyla: Don’t mess up, Michael.
Michael: Is this the American way to say congratulations on your marriage? Yes Skyla, don’t mess up to you, too.
Shaun: Oh shit, I forgot what was written on the grief slide. GRIEF SLIDE, QUICK QUICK QUICK GO BACK GO BACK. Skyla, I’m very sorry about your grandmother. Don’t bring the camera to me, you know I’m smiling.
Skyla: She’s just talking. She’s not having no baby. How many times have I said no about my egg? No.
Michael: I’m not trying to pressure her when I’m trying to pressure her.
Angela: Well Shaun, this leads me to a new paranoid depressed theory on why I should distrust Michael: What if this is an anchor baby?
Shaun: Are you watching Fox News again?
Angela: Always, Shaun. But who pressures someone to have a child like this?
Shaun: I think it’s common for someone who wants a baby?
Tania: I’ll give you an egg, Angela.
Angela: Pass. I’d rather just get a dog.
Michael: Am I allowed to have feelings?
Angela: That’s a no from me.
Shaun: Well, let’s bring out Aunt Lydia. Not the one from Handmaid’s Tale, but the other one.
Lydia: Hi. Same things I already said, but a different season.
Tania: Hello? Did anyone hear me offer up an egg?
Angela: Well, my personality is better than yours.
Lydia: Skyla, please give them an egg.
Angela: It’s just an egg! That’s why I’ve made a huge deal of it!
Libby: Yeah, this is weird.
Angela: I’m old, and don’t want to spend what little is left of my life trying to do something impossible, just to please Michael. How am I going to climb mountains and go to beaches?
Azan: You’re just lazy.
Tania: The person who wants babies is always right.
Lydia: Michael has made a very big sacrifice to be with Angela.
Skyla: Did you say at the beginning that you wouldn’t endorse the marriage without a baby?
Lydia: Yes, where have you been for three seasons? She lied to us to marry him.
Angela: ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER WOMAN? (Knocks camera over.)
Kalani: (Popcorn, still.)
Shaun: That’s all the time we have tonight, but tune in tomorrow when Lydia tells Angela to respect her husband and other jokes, Angela hangs up but still involves herself in the call, Syngin lubes himself up to slide from Tania’s grasp, Eric faces the human version of receipts, and Jess shows off her husband/upgrade.
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2020.10.02 20:44 groogus Nude video step mom

When I was 17, Dad took a job in New England. Leaving high school before it ended had me furious. I refused to remember which state Dad was forcing me to live in. Loading up his 1999 Ford Bronco was like watching two aliens in men’s bodies.
Dad was one of those leathery-faced, blue collar-type men who didn’t say much, but had a galaxy full of ideas and positions so dense it could outrank a black hole. I’d taken an astronomy class a few months earlier.
Mom died in a car accident when I was eight. An old man hit us going 80. I can still see Mom’s head slamming the steering wheel and hearing a short shriek before the detonation of metal. I can still feel the burn of the seatbelt across my chest. Luckily, Dad got me into therapy soon after, and I made a passable kid into my teens.
Dad drove us out of Stillwater, Oklahoma, “Where Oklahoma Began!” and where my social life ended. Home was a quiet town with sprawling green lawns and a cramped, dingy main street. I would climb wrought-iron fences at midnight with my friends and trespass the “Richlands,” as we called it. I won’t forget the night after prom when I told Liz Tillie I loved her, lying in the grass on the slope of some millionaire’s compound. But summer had a way of teaching high school graduates harsh lessons about romantic commitment. Couple that with moving, and you’ve got yourself a kid with no attachments whatsoever. Dad called it a “charmed life,” being the only words he uttered in a week. But that never sat right with me. I’d always been one of those kids who hadn’t really understood what kind of person I wanted to be. All it took was a two-day drive to figure out I was not meant for change.
New England smells like sugar in the spring and crisp apples in the fall—so I’m told. We arrived in the summer when it smelled like neither, but made my body sweat my water weight. I said we could’ve stopped in any of the cities we passed on the way—St. Louis, Indianapolis, Columbus, New York. And I figured we’d be close enough to Boston to gain some sense of our old life in a new small suburb. But Dad kept driving, and the homes started to thin.
When the roads turned to chalky dirt and dense forests filled the spaces between farmsteads, I wished Mom had lived. A few of the homes we passed were really old. Some were double-wide trailers with brown water damage stains and cluttered junk gardens. Others were squat one-levels that could’ve been pioneer homes. Rough brick under peeling plaster, dead vines under scorching heat, shutterless windows opening to darkness. We were going to live here?
“How are we supposed to get food?” I asked.
“I’m sure there’s a store nearby,” Dad replied.
“I’m guessing it’s not a Walmart.”
Dad grunted, paying attention to the road. The Bronco was fat, blue, and loud. I couldn’t believe we’d made the trip, worried my insides had flipped and I’d start shitting out my mouth; thank God for modern suspension systems—in other cars.
Something appeared down the road under a low-hanging tree. It was a man. As we got closer, I noticed he was older, maybe 70s. He was wearing a pair of overalls with those faded railroad worker pinstripes. His face was long, tan, and wrinkled—so much that it was hard to find a space of flat skin real estate bigger than a fingernail. He walked with a dithering gait, as if being led by an invisible leash, meandering side-to-side. My first thought was alcohol, even if it was the early afternoon. My second thought was mental status.
Dad slowed the Bronco as we approached the man. I wanted him to keep driving. When the man was close enough to pass, Dad stopped the car and rolled down the window. A rush of warm air and hot grass, and a constant, maddening buzz of cicadas or something.
Dad looked at the old man. “Sir. Do you need a lift somewhere?”
The second the words left Dad’s mouth, the old man turned on a dime and walked straight toward the open window. He stopped a few inches from the Bronco and looked at Dad with a pair of cloudy, pale yellow and gray eyes. His lips were crusty and dried with blood. Dirt lined every wrinkle. His brow and scalp were sparse with hair. And he was muttering something low and indiscernible.
“Excuse me?” Dad asked.
The old man kept muttering and staring. There was something unsettling about the way he stood, his pointed attention toward Dad, as if casting a curse upon my father. Every other string of gibberish came with an eye twitch. I’d seen a few mentally challenged people in my life, but none so confrontational. The muttering was quiet enough it began to sound like buzzing, blending with the cicadas.
“Are you all right, sir?” Dad asked.
Muttering. Buzzing.
Dad gave me a glance, then checked the rear-view mirror. “We’ve gotta get moving. Are you sure you don’t need help?”
The old man remained resolute in his opaque glare, his lips undulating.
Dad put the Bronco in drive and we slowly peeled away. I turned to watch through the dark windows of the shell. The old man’s clouded eyes met mine as we passed the shade tree and disappeared behind a small hill.
“Great neighborhood,” I said.
Dad didn’t say anything, but I saw his eyes move to the rear view.
We came to a stop after another mile. I hadn’t paid much attention to the structure centered in the driver’s open window because it was a barn. Why would I be looking at a barn?
So we were going to be living in a barn. I argued with Dad as we drove through the opening in the property fence and down a set of rutted tracks. I imagined sleeping on hay bales. I remembered that scene from Saving Private Ryan where Matt Damon’s character recounted a story from his childhood, involving a barn, brothers, and a bra—I remembered the bra. At least Dad knew how to surprise me, even if unintentionally. Turns out there was a structure built into the back, with a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, and a loft that connected to the barn’s interior. It was all very Smallville. A very grungy Smallville.
The good: I had a great opportunity to develop my teenage dream of supreme coolness. As Dad unpacked downstairs and I sat on the edge of my loft bed, I could hear my peers saying, “Did you hear? Owen lives in a barn!” Girls would go crazy. I told myself I was hosting a party, with enough teenage mojo to surpass the kids in Can’t Hardly Wait. But then I stepped out of my mind for a second; I was supposed to be mad and sad. This back and forth usually happened. I have Mom to thank for that; she always wanted the best in any situation.
The bad: there was no A/C, no internet, and no TV. There were cobwebs everywhere. And every time you ran the water, it came out brown for the first three seconds.
The ugly: me. That party was never gonna happen.
While I rifled through my suitcase, something slid around in the inner mesh pocket. I unzipped the pocket and pulled out the small picture frame of Mom and I. It was the size of my palm, a gift for my third birthday. She’d told me it was the perfect size for my “little life.” Each year after that, she’d given me another frame, slightly larger than the last. But I liked the first one best. I sat on the edge of my bed and admired the woman who would perpetually remain as old as my last memory of her.
The apartment was so dusty, one swipe of your finger across the living room’s excuse for an entertainment stand would literally return a thick layer of grime. The walls were ’70s-style wood panels, with a few missing here and there. The windows in the living room were covered by a stiff, woven drape with a dull pattern I could only describe as abstract and meaningless. The more I walked through the apartment, the more I realized most of the upholstery had been hand-stitched. The end tables and nightstands were crafted with misshapen boards. The light fixtures were all covered in tarnished glass bowls filled with dozens of dead flies. Half the lightbulbs were out. The kitchen cabinets were thinly constructed, without hardware, and stained with a sticky film. The floor was a yellowing linoleum, peeling in the corners, with a huge portion cut out near the kitchen sink. Water stains in the ceiling. A whiff of mold every few seconds. And the sink itself was filled with open cans of tuna, now a collection pit for maggots and flies.
I should have realized these were all clues not to open the fridge. I shouted to Dad in a fury that betrayed my age. There was a large bowl of dark purple and red entrails sitting on the middle shelf. The fridge had been unplugged and I had unsealed the door, leaving the apartment consumed by the rotting, meaty odor of deer guts.
Dad reached into the fridge and took the bowl. I recoiled as he walked it outside and chucked the contents into the tall fields. When he came back, he didn’t say anything. Back to unpacking, I guess. I cursed under my breath, hoping he’d hear me. He’d taken me from my home and brought me here. I’d be better off living with that old muttering man. Mom’s signature mindset wasn’t kicking in this time.
I laid on my new bed, which might as well have been a hay bale, and stared at the rafters as I slowly came to the realization that I would be spending the rest of my summer alone.
That night I opened my eyes to moonlight knifing through the roof. I moved my head a little to each side, trying to detect other cracks. I hoped for rain, but could I trust Dad to call this place quits even then? I got up to pee, fumbling my way around dusty wood and rough boards; I was still in my shoes as I’d gotten a splinter earlier by just walking down the stairs. The smell of decay was still wafting around the humid apartment. And the sounds of the forest around the barn were alive and omnipresent.
I heard it when I returned to my bed, something different enough to make me freeze and listen.
It wasn’t the crickets at their harassing volume. Not the sigh of the trees as the wind coalesced their limbs and leaves.
I heard it again, this time fully lucid: the low, almost imperceptible mutter of a person, probably fifteen feet from the barn. My body went rigid as my ears became the only working instruments. A string of incoherent babbling went on for about two minutes, pieces of phrases and words that would surface from a whisper like a bobbing buoy.
Then it stopped. I waited.
That old man was standing outside the barn. Why would he be walking around in the middle of the night? Had he been walking the entire day? Had we left a mentally challenged man to wander the countryside alone? It wasn’t our fault. Why would we be responsible? Were we supposed to perfectly discern his condition?
The muttering started again, but closer. My breaths were caught in my throat, pumping against my adrenaline-clenched body. Should I have gotten Dad? Did this man need help?
Against my burning mind’s reproaches, I slowly slid my legs off the bed. The muttering was like a pin in my ear, pricking every other second and triggering pain in my spine. I placed my feet on the floor and used every muscle in my body to carefully move toward the staircase. I slammed my shoe into my open suitcase and fell into the long dresser against the wall. The thudding noises were deafening. I laid on the floor for minutes, breathing tightly, listening to the rustle of leaves outside.
The muttering had stopped.
I waited, suddenly feeling a spike of heat on my cheek. I realized I had probably fallen onto a splinter. But the adrenaline overwhelmed my senses. I listened the entire night without moving, unable to hear the muttering—or anything moving—again.
Dad asked me what happened to my cheek the next morning. I told him the truth.
“Maybe there’s a group home nearby,” Dad said, working on the broken doorframe to the covered carport.
“He needs help,” I said. “I’m gonna call the police.”
Dad stopped his work and watched me leave, but didn’t say anything.
I called the police. They said they’d look into it. I didn’t know my address. Dad didn’t either. I felt the phone call was as useless as I was last night. It was one of those things where I let frustration about reality force action. I probably could have gone outside and told the officer what our barn looked like, but in addition to their already uninterested demeanor, I didn’t have the energy to fully see it through.
Instead, I left the barn and ventured into the forest myself. New England forests are dense and dark. It’s hard for light to penetrate the canopy. The trees had thick, gnarly roots as wide as truck tires, curling above and below ground. When I looked down a rare clear aisle of trees, all I saw was a mirror-like reflection of trunks and limbs and brush creating a distorted perception of distance. It made me slightly dizzy.
I had to be careful where I walked; large divots marred the undergrowth every few steps. When I reached what I imagined was twenty feet, I stopped and took a long view of the surrounding area. I wasn’t a detective. Everything looked the same. I pushed aside some brush. Beneath the foliage was a dirt layer fettered with weeds, grass, and roots.
And in the dirt a few feet away from where I stood, I found the imprint of feet. I had not come from that direction—and I was wearing shoes. I stood and looked toward the print’s trajectory. They led deeper into the forest.
“What are you doing?”
I spun with heated breath. Dad stood at the tree line, sweaty, emotionless, hands dirty from work.
“There are tracks here,” I said. “He was standing right here.”
“There is someone here for you,” Dad said.
I scrunched my face. “What? The police?”
“No. A girl.”
A girl? To see me? How did anyone know we were here? I followed Dad back out of the forest, taking a last look at the spiraling shade behind me.
When I got to the front door, there was a girl about my age standing patiently with an older woman. The girl was dressed neatly, wore her brown hair in a ponytail, and flashed me a bright smile as I approached.
The older woman nodded to me and smiled. “Hello. Hope we’re not bothering you. I’m Susanne Wilky and this is my daughter, Rosie. We were just driving home and saw your car parked outside. We live just three houses down the road. It’s Owen, right?”
Dad was already gone. Would it have killed him to stick around and not leave me with the strangers?
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shakily.
“Your dad told us you’ve just moved in, which is great because there aren’t a lot of younger families in the neighborhood. Your dad said you were a Junior. Same as Rosie.”
Rosie remained silent, no doubt embarrassed to be brought to the house; she probably would have remained in the car. I know I would have.
“This barn hasn’t had people for a long time,” Susanne continued, giving the exterior a sweeping look. “Ever since we’ve been here. I wasn’t even sure if anyone owned the land. So I’m glad to have new neighbors. I hope you’ve got everything you need.”
“Well, to be honest, no,” I said, thinking of the rotting entrails from earlier. “But we’ll be okay.”
“Please let us know if you need anything,” Susanne said. “We’ll let you go. It was nice to meet you, Owen.”
They said goodbye—Rosie out of necessity—and left to walk the ruts back to their minivan.
I stood at the door for a few minutes, watching them reverse out of the property. At least there seemed to be some normal people here.
The next few weeks were quiet. I stayed up late each night to see if I could hear him. No matter how hard I strained my mind and ears, he had seemed to understand that people lived here now. But that didn’t stop the other sounds from turning my nights into a sweltering, fever dream of paranoia. I was certain one night I heard someone chewing below me, in the barn—a squelch of juice against teeth. The police hadn’t done anything. I wasn’t shocked. Maybe when we went into town—basically a handful of unmarked shops—I would walk over to the station and see if anyone knew about the old man. School was starting soon—a thought I was simultaneously dreading and excitedly anticipating—and maybe kids knew something.
Dad had spent the majority of his free time outside of work trying to fix apartment issues. I wanted to help, but his silence gave me the answer. I kept telling him about the barn roof, but it was low on the priority list apparently. He’d fixed the doorframe to the carport, the lightbulbs, some holes in the walls, and was in the midst of figuring out the plumbing situation.
“Any progress?” I asked, watching him rip out the bottom cabinet board under the sink, pieces of flaky wood spraying everywhere. Instead of going into the wall, the pipes went underground.
He didn’t answer for a moment, face-first into the exposed piping with a flashlight in hand, trying to glean an understanding of condition or placement or something. He retracted and sat on his heels.
“I . . . don’t remember there being a basement,” he said quietly. Without waiting for me to contribute to a conversation, he stood and started stomping on the floor and listening after each barrage.
“I’ll help,” I said, feeling more curious about a potential basement than helping him.
We filtered throughout the first floor, stomping and knocking to check for anything hollow. Linoleum would have to be pulled up if there was any basement entrance inside the apartment. Dad thought the chunk of missing linoleum in the kitchen was a clue, so he began ripping up more. But I had a different hunch.
I walked outside to the back, where the deep forest pushed up against the apartment. My arrogance was shot down as I saw a flat facade with no classic shutter door entrance. As I rounded the house to go back inside, I heard shouting echoing across the property, coming from the main road.
I followed the fence posts to get a better angle, but tried to make myself small and unnoticeable. There was a good distance from the barn to the road.
The old property across the street was one of those pioneer houses. They had built it upon a small knoll, surrounded by trees and a huge boulder that sat on their front lawn. The place was shaggy with grass and brush, unkempt from the broken shutters to the bent mailbox. When we had driven past the place, it had looked abandoned. But now I was watching two people outside on its rutted driveway.
“Leonard!” a woman shouted, taking little short steps down the slope to the gravel road. “Leonard, please!”
She was trying to catch up to a man who looked more like a depressed basset hound in human form. Drooping head, thin like a small tree, wearing clothes too big.
I admittedly smirked at the domestic squabble, wondering what Leonard did in the same way I enjoyed reality TV. I folded my arms over the nearest fence post and admired the view.
“Leonard!” the woman screeched, a blast of finality. The man kept walking. She jogged to reach him and caught his arm. Leonard stopped moving, but didn’t turn.
“Stop leaving like this! Just tell me where you’re going! I can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired. Leonard! Look at me!”
I started to feel a little uncomfortable, but kept watching.
The woman pleaded with him to stay and to tell her where he was going. She began to sob. I took my arms off the post. It was time to see what Dad was up to. While I was about to turn around, I saw the flap of Leonard’s baggy sleeve move in my peripherals. When I checked again, the woman was on the ground. Leonard was strangling her into the gravel.
I froze for a second. I had never seen anything like it. This sort of violence was only in movies. The woman’s flailing appendages got me to jerk back into reality and sprint forward, shouting for Dad. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, my body filling with hot energy. I rushed across our property through one of the tire ruts and bellowed at Leonard to stop.
Leonard made a fast, vicious movement, shoving his entire body weight onto the woman’s neck. The woman’s flailing stopped. And so did I. I couldn’t voice anything. The act was a lightning strike to my brain. Regaining my spirit was like trying to start a cruddy engine. Eventually, Dad came running behind me.
I watched Leonard stand up, leaving the woman’s body limp on the gravel. I saw his face as he turned toward us, gaunt, thin-lipped, gray, and emotionless. And I’m not sure if it was the nerves or my Dad shouting or the lighting in that moment, but I swear I saw Leonard’s mouth moving, as if speaking low.
Then he began walking away, up the road. Dad stopped at the woman’s body and told me to call 911.
School started two weeks later. The small class of thirty-eight Juniors split into a few classes that rotated through different subjects, desperately trying to operate like a big school. It was nothing like Oklahoma. Mid-periods weren’t a frenzy. Lunch was quiet. And everyone seemed to know everyone on a deeper level. Which was why the woman’s death—Molly Anbench—remained the topic of conversation for quite some time. It completely erased any sort of interest I had in the muttering old man.
I hadn’t spoken to Dad about what happened. I kept hoping he would bring it up, but he simply went back to working on the barn. It reminded me too much about when Mom died. After the crash, Dad had retracted into a husk of his former self, at least the self I can remember, the one from the home videos. It was almost as if he’d disappeared. The man who continued to raise me did so passively, relying on my own skills, school, and therapy—others—to do the job. And now, as I keep seeing Leonard’s pulsing movement that ended Molly’s life replay in my mind, Dad was still absent. So one day after school I kicked the wooden railing of the loft, breaking the softened wood and sending shards onto the messy floor below. I hated this place. I hated Dad. I hated the feeling that I was responsible for everything but couldn’t access the same autonomy as him. Of course, he’d ordered me to clean up the broken pieces of the banister, but since he hardly went into the barn, he’d probably forget in a couple days.
The only upside was that school wasn’t as horrible as I imagined. Most of the kids were either pleasant or too quiet. Rosie Wilky was always nice to me, but I couldn’t expect her to become friends just because my perception of our town included me, her family, the muttering man, and a murderer. She had her own group and I couldn’t be bothered to strike up a conversation, much less actively seek new friends. Coasting through the semester and keeping to myself seemed like the best option.
One hot and sticky night I lay in bed in nothing but my boxer shorts. I was trying to listen for any sign of the old man, but the loft was unbearable. Despite my inner rage at Dad for the apartment, the lack of A/C, the disregard for the direction of my life, the damn banister was still gnawing at my mind. I groaned as I sat up and shoved on my sneakers. I picked up my phone, but I had forgotten to plug it in for the night. Cursing, I peered over the drop before heading downstairs. I would have to rely on the light from the loft as the barn had no wiring for electricity. I could hear Dad’s white noise machine as I passed his room on the way to the barn entrance.
The light from my loft gave a warm glow across the upper barn, but provided little exposure to the ground, especially along the sides. The wooden floor was seasoned with flecks of hay, dirt, and oil stains. A strong smell of rusty equipment and old leather wafted about. The previous owner had left stacks of old hay, a canvassed manual plow, a workbench, and a slew of tools, wooden shelves, and empty drums. From the darkness, they all looked like rotting teeth peeking out of the shadows. There was just enough diffused light to make out the splintered pieces of the banister.
I had a chance to look at the floor properly. I found it odd that it was made of boards. Wouldn’t they store vehicles here? Animals? Boards seemed a little weak to carry such weight, but what the hell did I know about farming? The wood was spaced a little, so you could see through the dark cracks. One of the pieces of banister was laying in line with a crack. I picked it up, revealing a pair of almost imperceptible cloudy gray eyes below the floor. They blinked.
I fell back and shouted in fright. There was no sound below me. I was clenching the pieces of banister so hard they dug into my palm.
“Who’s there?!” I shouted, so loud I hoped it would wake Dad.
Only the wind outside answered. I scrambled to my feet and started stomping.
“Who’s down there?! Get out of our house!”
I let silence fall again. I could hear the faint whirring of Dad’s white noise machine, the trees swaying, the crickets, the creaking boards above. But nothing below.
Suddenly the darkness from the corners of the barn floor began to encroach. Everything became thicker, more malevolent. I left the barn and turned on the kitchen light. I swiveled in a heightened sense of urgency, looking for Dad’s flashlight. I opened the sink cupboards and found it standing upright next to a clutter of tools. I took the plastic yellow thing, turned it on, and marched back to the barn.
With the additional light from the kitchen and the flashlight’s burn, I confidently scrutinized the floor. The entrance to a basement wasn’t in the apartment. It was in here.
I wasn’t thinking about what was going to happen when I found the entrance. Someone was in our basement, living underneath our floorboards. The eyes were forever implanted in my mind’s eye, too coincidental to not belong to him. The old man. Was this his home all along?
I crossed the barn, feeling his eyes upon me as I searched. I wasn’t going to shine a light down there again. Not yet. Not until I found something. I moved a stack of tools, unfurled a canvass sheet, and moved some hay bales with difficulty. Nothing. As I moved to the other side, I felt a distinct give in the boards underneath my feet. I paused and looked down. A thin line in the shape of a square was cut into the boards, a little bigger than the width of my feet. At the bottom of the cutout square, there was a “handle” carved into the board. My back locked up. I needed to get Dad.
I burst into his room and found the light switch. He jerked under the covers and looked up.
“Dad, there’s someone underneath the barn.”
It took a second for his eyes to adjust. He propped himself up and held his head.
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
“I saw someone under the floorboards of the barn. The door to the basement is in the barn.”
Dad swung his legs over the bed and used the wall for support as he stumbled toward me. I let him lead the way, the two of us pounding into the barn, both wearing boxer shorts. He observed the surroundings.
“Hello?” he called.
“They don’t answer. I tried.”
“You saw someone?” he asked incredulously, looking back at me with eyes of impossibility.
“Up close. I think it’s the old man.”
“Owen,” Dad said angrily, with exhaustion. He growled in frustration, but didn’t press. “Where’s the door?”
“Far end. Should I call the police?”
“The—no. Don’t call nobody.”
He ambled over to the front of the barn, found the door, and pulled up without hesitation.
“Flashlight,” he said.
I lobbed him the flashlight and approached his side. He pointed the beam down. There was a mangled wooden ladder of about five rungs, then dirt. It looked tall enough to crouch.
“Dad, we need to call the police. You can’t go down there.”
He didn’t answer. He got as low as he could and angled himself to try and see where the dirt floor led.
“There are footprints,” he said quietly.
“Shh,” he said. “I can’t see anything else.” He started to descend the ladder, keeping the flashlight on his feet. Once he hit the floor, he turned and pointed the light the other direction. I saw the excess light come up through the cracks at the other end, where I had seen the eyes.
“Anything?” I asked, feeling colder than I had ever felt in my life.
“Foundation here. Storage. There’s a concrete room or something ahead.”
“A room?”
“No door. Just an opening. Pillars inside.”
With the comfort of my father’s presence, I felt bold enough to lay on the floor and dip my head into the opening. My mind brought the slanted image into view. Dad was shining his light around the space below the footprint of the barn, full of cardboard boxes, broken tool hafts, plant pots, an ironing board, and cans of food. He moved the light toward the apartment side, and I saw how the foundation opened to another space farther, with two pillars peeking out from either side. Something twinkled at the back of the room.
“Hey!” I shouted, startling Dad and causing him to curse.
“What is wrong with you?” he snapped.
That was all it took.
Me?” I said, fuming. “I know what I saw. I’m not lying. What, you think I want attention? I’d rather be invisible than be here. Why the hell did you buy this place anyways? It’s a shit hole. You took me from my friends and brought me to this place. Why? Why do you hate me?”
Dad was shaking his head. “You think I wanted this? You think I would have picked this place if I didn’t have to? I’m trying to keep you fed. I have to do what’s necessary.”
“Fed with deer guts?”
“We won’t be here forever.”
“No, just enough to traumatize me, though.”
“There’s nothing here!”
Then the muttering started. The skin on Dad’s face stretched tightly. He spun in the dirt and pointed the light into the foundation opening. I saw the same back wall, the same pillars, the same twinkle—something black or . . .
The muttering and buzzing continued, coming from that room.
“Dad,” I whispered.
“Come out,” Dad shouted. “Right now.”
Nothing changed.
“We’re going to kill you if you don’t get out of our house!” I yelled.
Owen!” Dad spat. “Call the police.”
“I’m not leaving you here!”
“Do it. Now.”
I pushed myself up and sprinted to the kitchen. When I returned, the light from the flashlight was still coming up underneath the boards. Dad was talking.
“If you don’t come out of there, the police are gonna get you out themselves. We bought this place. You can’t live here.”
The muttering was right below me. I moved to the trap door again and laid flat. I saw Dad hunched forward, like a panther, a few inches closer to the concrete opening. This was the first time in as long as I can remember where Dad’s entire demeanor had shifted, like he had engaged a motor that had been inactive for a decade.
A pale, wrinkly face turned the corner of the concrete room, opaque eyes reflecting in Dad’s flashlight like a cat’s. Dad’s body tightened and he braced for an encounter. The old man was still muttering as he continued to reveal himself. Flaccid neck, bare shoulders, chest, torso . . . I groaned as he exposed his fully nude body, completely irradiated with grime and dust. He wasn’t bothering to make a proper crouch, instead shoving his back into the floorboards above and scraping along the short concrete corridor toward Dad.
Dad stumbled back before reinforcing his stance.
“Stop!” Dad shouted. “The police are here. They’re going to take you away. Stop!
I didn’t hear any sirens or cars approaching. I watched as if encased in ice as the old man kept moving forward. Dad slowly backed up, but it became apparent to me that he was going to be the force between me and the old man.
“Dad, come back, let’s lock him in there!”
“I said stop! Sto—”
The old man plowed into Dad and they fell into the dirt floor. The back of Dad’s head hit a joist on his way down. The flashlight spun into the floor, showing a part of their struggle. Dad’s forearm was pinned onto the dirt; the old man opened a mouth of black and yellow teeth and clamped down onto the flesh. Dad made a hoarse, desperate cry and they rolled onto the flashlight, crushing it. The brightness of the crawl space disappeared. I could only hear them now. I was screaming down the opening, readying myself to drop down.
Then I heard a sharp smack and the struggle stopped. I heard someone panting.
A rumbling of gravel and tall grass came from behind. The police had arrived.
[Part 2]
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2020.10.01 16:42 HaulA1Oct1 What you are looking for is..... (Link in the Desc.)2

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2020.09.25 09:31 HaulA25Sepl Step mom nude video

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2020.09.23 17:19 T_PitbullGuy Step mom nude video

Guys, im really sorry this is going to be long as shit. Its a two part post I HAVE to get out and the other sub I posted in got attacked by dick heads. It jumps around and it sometimes convoluted snd im really sorry, maybe in the future I can have my mind together enough to write it our better. Thank you.
PTSD, abuse and domestic survivors trigger warning: NSFW
Names have been changed to protect myself in the identities of the children involved
My name is Nate and I am in a living nightmare.
Several months ago after a few unfortunate events out of my control I ended up homeless in the state of Utah with a dog whom at this moment I will assure you never went a single night cold and never missed a meal. I still have her to this day.
Turn name is Tilly
Through hard work dedicationAnd a few friends I had met and their wonderful help they gave to me I was able to escape homelessness. Being better off in my life I had met a girl on Facebook I will call herMarissa. I spent several weeks talking to Marissa being I had a nightmare of a relationship before her I want to be sure I wasn't getting myself into something I didn't want to be part of she seemed to me a perfectly normal girl with 3 children who had been dealt a s***** hand a few times but played it out to the best And dealt with it in healthy ways. After a while of talking and planning I gone down and visit her once or twice in the state of Nevada and everything seemed to go so well she was nice she was normal I noticed no text or red flags. Eventually I decided with her I was going to move down there live with her and help her be able to get out of her mother's house where she had been staying in renting so that we could move on 9n our own.
Well I moved down and several months into the relationship everything is gone fairly well there were a few slipups and costs when I got here that I don't want to speak about now do nothing I wasn't capable of dealing with that seemed to just be a when off one time thing. On March 9 we got married and living together this is when things began to go baaaaaad...
Melissa has 3 children a 9 year old boy we will call Braden Mary Who share the same father And a four-year-old boy we will call Caleb who has a different father than the other 2 and goes to that father's house every other week.
One thing I tried to help her with woz kidnapping from her mother Marisa's mother like to take her children and force Marissa to let Braden and Mary stay thereAnd then refused to give them back.
This is necessary information to understand some things you will hear
Breeden has not come to live with us Mary and Caleb have though at the moment Mary and Braden are at Marissa's mother's house and Caleb just got here from his father's last night which events that unfolded after happens to be the last straw and forced me to decide to write this.
After a couple months of living with The 3 of them Marissa Mary and Caleb I began to notice some quirks i hadn't seen before.
The word want is what drives these children and their mother. There is no responsibility and no telling them know there are rules however as long as the child States I want they get to do or get to take even if it is stealing no matter what as long as they state "I want" mother will ensure it happens nomatyer who she has to step on to get it.
Mary is 6 years old and weighs 100 pounds. Being her stepfather I decided I would try to teach her good healthy eating habits snacks being OK in Kandy is OK sometimes to how ever meals and healthy eating is important for children. Your mother however decided to let me know that she does not want me parenting her children that is until she wants to sneak out of the house and cheat on me and wants me to watch them for her or she wants me to take them to the store and buy them things with my paycheck. When giving Caleb a bath or if he is lying in his bed or our bed she has this habit of leaning over and patting him on his PPFor he will grab Melissa or Mary's hand or his own hand and put it on his PP and dance in wiggle around. I have mentioned my concern to her about this many times, she explodes.
Caleb has a habit of hurting animals being very mean to them kicking them hitting them teasing them with food trying to choke them I know the warning signs there's no need to tell me and I have tried to get her and him into therapy over the last couple of months, to no avail.
Marissa likes to cheat on me on Facebook and whoever she confined to talk to she spends 90% of her waking hours on her phone the other 10% is with her children not us all as a family but using them as a weapon against me.
My car broke down so I began using her Van to get to work
She will at random up and decide she wants to hide the keys from me or make a threat ti me about calling animal co trol to tske my d9gs away knowing ill rush home. As a result lose my job, she then will hop on Facebook and tell people I'm abusive and won't get a job. Then after she costs me a job she'll say "im not getting bkameed for this here just go to work"
She has cost me 7 jobs now.
I now have to leave home 3 hours before work together there on the bus just so I dont lose another job.
She likes to scream at me about anything she can find. Or make things up to scream to show her kids that she has control and power over me and that I have to listen to her and do as the kids want or else she'll scream at me and hit me.
Mind you, I am horrified for these children and I have infact "STEPPED UP"being the reason I still try even with all this.
Continuing forward, she shows NO empathy for me, or my dogs. Nonatyet what happens to us she just blatantly does not give a shit. Period.
She has never, no exaggeration not ine time has she told any if her children no. Braden steals money from debit cards for v bucks (says nothing) Caleb does his little peepee thing or evil push kids steal and break things hurt ani.als or make up lies and start crying to get her to scream at whoever he points at then laughs when she screams and joins in with her
Mary will I want I want I want her way through the day stealing stepping in toes wasting all for lunch at work becase its funny to her.
All 3 children's diets consist of cupcakes. Cotton candy, skittles. Starburst, chips, Coca-Cola, coffee and McDonald's, breakfast lunch and dinner doesnt matter.
They go outside and bully the neighborhood kids in our complex, they'll empty the house of the cups, bowls, electronics, dog food, silverware, my soda and lunch food for work, and whatever they can find and trash the complex by coloring in the sidewalks and other peoples doors with markers and leaving all the stuff and trash outside.
Without saying a word and telling them good job I am expected to go clean up the mess so she doesnt have to get an eviction notice for screaming at the office manager for putting. Aproperty damage claim on our door.
Marissa will if there hasn't been drama for a bit.
Come find me (I'm usually lying on the bed jist screwing on or reading with the dogs if I'm not working) and find something to say or do hoping ill react so that she can "SEE LOOK WHAT YOU DO" and put it on facebook like her telling me I killed the daughter I lost to pneumonia years ago was my fault. She has these horrible spending habits Meaning for example she will get paid twice a month and say she gets paid on a Friday and her check is about 875 to $900 com Monday afternoon she is digging through my wallet because all of her money is gone she spent it all on clothes and toys and food and c*** like that and none of the bills have gotten paid also all of the utilities are in my name so doesn't ruin her credit And once prompted to stop digging through my wallet in stealing my money she will explode throw things at me she will call the police and say that I have done something or said something and try to get me in trouble in any way possible police have been over to our house numerous times and Have told me and her more specifically her that no crime has been committed it is clear that what she called about has been fabricated and that she is to stop calling them Or she will be ticketed for illegal use of 911
G constantly tells me she wants to be alone and away from me but then she gives 100% of her affection and attention she sent nude photos to all the man on Facebook Shouldn't makes up endless horrible nasty lies about me to them in she uses me as a punching bag to take out every bit of emotional stress or anything that goes wrong ever out on me so that she can appear normal for the men that she cheats on me with.
The children are constantly deliberately disobeying they are serial misbehaviors And if I ever say no about something no matter how horrible it is and how important it is that a child not do that they go straight to her mom tell her she comes in screams at me and then they do it anyway even if it is digging through the Tylenol bottle orEating Skittles and my Coke for breakfast along with a snickers.
When she does my laundry she throws my socks and underwear away and ATM I have 4 pair of underwear and 3 pair of socks.
I have work boots and a pair of flips flops she has thrown the rest of my clothes away and spends all her money stocking up her closet.
She will pull Caleb into our bed to try to kick me and my dogs out of it and if I dont leave like last night she did this, she will attack me and the dogs and start screaming at ungodly volumes and say the nastiest meanest most horrible shit because she wants my bed to herself with her 4 year old who says shit like "nommeeeeeeeyyyyy I wan him to sweep on da fwooooooowr, tewll him he haves to go away from us and being us my ipaa chahwgooh"
And she'll try to force me to do that shit exactly.
Basically. Un her mind and her children's minds, their mom is everybody's mom. She's ONLY THWIR MOM but she is in charge of the rest if the world and her jib is to push and bully everyone else around to make the world what those children want it to be. They steals from stores. Push people out of the way, hit random people, open and eat food then throw the wrappers on the floor in the store without paying for anything. And mawissaaa will be sure to scream at you till her lungs fall out if you dont bow to her kids.
I have began to notice the things that they do and what they expect me to do when they do them in that if I don't do it because they won't tell me to do what they want me to just know to do it if I don't they will explode on me and bully me into doing something else hurt my dogs when I'm gone at work she will also somehow find someway to feed off of my conscience and good heart and try to make me feel bad for defending myself had me fooled for a little while thinking that I really was a bad person for not trusting her when she leaves for 6 hours in comes home empty Handed saying she went to Walmart and exploded on me where or when I asked where she was because I was late for work Or that I was wrong when I told her I needed attention and needed my emotional calls answered instead of being ignored and yelled app when I needed affection from my wife the woman I married and didn't want her posting any more nude photos on other guys statuses.
She will fly into rages at random times she has no empathy for anybody else if you call her out on doing something horrible she disrupts her shoulders and says what are you going to do about it she makes up scenarios in her head and caused the police in makes up false scenarios to them and asks them what their gonna do about it when they find out that she's lying. All in all this is about 10% of the things that she does in the things that go on at home though I can't bring myself to bring any more of it up at the moment somebody help me I will post again later with stories and more information has I am hoping this will help my mental health and strength to move on and find somehow or someway to go somewhere else
Marissa has been on a kick recently, most abusive I've ever seen her.
Before, when I stated her mother will kidnap her kids and refuse to give them back, well she hated her mother for that. I had been there for her in every aspect since the beginning and, while I didn't know before, I did used to text her mother about the insane shit marissa had been doing and try ro figure out how to help her and make it better. What a mistake that was. Ofcorse, marissa didn't like me telling her mom the evil shit she did and for some reason I stopped. marissa then began to lie to her mom about me what she said I dont know but back in June her mom blocked me and played friendly with marissa. We had had Mary (6 year old female step child) at our apartment away from her kidnapping mom for several weeks, Marissa's birthday came along and I was not invited. Ofcorse. Well she went with her mom and everybody else to crackerbarrel (where her and I went after we got married) and low and behold she came home crying, mad at her mom and feeling used. Slightly smug, though curious i asked.. "what happened" well, her mom made her pay for all eight people (on her birthday) and then stole Mary afterward and took the gift card marissa was given by her mom to crackerbarrwl the night before for her birthday, and made her use it to pay for her mom and everyone else.
Pretty fucked up but remembering all the shit she has done to me I let her know,
"I'm sorry that happened marissa, but remember that I warned you that would happen and remmeber what you did to me to turn on me with your mom and she used you"
Well. I have a heart and a conscience so, I decided to help and be supportive again. Big mistake.
Since then. These are some of the things that she has made a habit of doing.
I sold my car To help her and I pay rent after she had spent all of her money and stolen my paycheck solely because I needed some work to live to. Arisa has a Van from her father which is in her father's name they hold the title over her head but never end up giving it to her. Marissa works from home and I pay the power and Internet she has Monday in Tuesday off. Well how she's made me lose jobs before is I will take her Van to work because she works from home and she will find something to tell me or something to do that is emergency for me knowing that I am going to have to leave work come home only for her to use that opportunity to call out of work and take her Van and go spend more money or something like that.
On Monday she drove me to work it's about a 15 minute drive from home and dropped me off I had a veterinary appointment for my 2 dogs who have been throwing up and having blood in their stoolBecause Marissa and her children "accidentally"Spray bleach in their water bowl or feed them things like ice cream sandwiches and high CO percent chocolateCloset that they are in and 2 cameras to watch them while I am she dropped me off, and when it came time to pick me up, she was not here. She finally shows up after I started walking (later to be assumed that she realized I had money she spent hers and she wanted gas) she was in a mid thigh length shirt, messy hair, smeared makeup and nothing but the bottom.portion of the lingerie I bought her underneath. She'd lied and been cheating again. She exploded when called on it and claims oh my aunts groceries are in the car I need to drop them off, then no I took them inside, then we get there I remind her about supposed groceries inside and and explodes. I didnt get to take my dogs she poisoned to the vet, because she went out cheating for the second time in one day. Why should she have to tell her husband the truth or where she goes?
Good. Question... (mind you she had her 4 year old son all day.) Walking inside the house ignoring her screaming she threw a glass tea bottle, cracked me right in the back of the neck then called the police and said I "touched her butt" 1. No. Not even in the mood after she cheated. 2. Its my wife. Well I've been using uber and the heel toe express to get to work the last 2 days now and thismorning, she asks me to take the 4 year old to daycare (6 year old she picked up last night, has school but hasn't been on the laptop for school for the last week and a half) now that I had been asked to take him because she cant stand them when they're together, she wants me to use her van to work now? I told her yesterday her answers from then on would be no. And if I could use her van to go to work I could be petty. And change my internet password that she uses for her work. (I wouldn't and didnt) but she lost it. Well. She forgot I had to been using her van so what she tried to take away was my wallet. Ya. Marissa has this idea that, she can bail on her life, set up shop in someone else's and take complete control over them and their decisions and things. She can take whatever she wants away but, you are required to open things in her name for her to use and take away from you, or make you give her things for her to use after she takes everything away from you. And if you try to take something of yours away from her, that she can call the police and tell them its a domestic and they'll come take you away or force you to do as she days because she is Marissa, daughter of maryanne and you HAVE to do as she wants. She really thinks that. Well, currently I'm saving and getting pay stubs together to move, and I have to stay for the moment so my dogs can be somewhere so I can go to work. Marissa likes to hop on Facebook and say things like, "Way to sneak in to my life and leech off a single mother and steal her money away from her kids BRO"
or "ill never over my kids BRO" She really relies on the lies. This usually happens after 1. I have caught one of the children doing something like, coloring on peoples doors with markers, 2. Stealing money or toys from other kids in our complex 3. Brought everything they can outside, left it, and covered the front in trash then refused to pick up. "Theyre just children, tell your stupid piece if shit dogs to do it" she'll say.
Sometimes when she goes to the laundry do laundry, she'll either
A. Use my money for it but refuse to do any of my clothes B. Throw a good handful of my clothes away while doing it. (I have 4 pair or underwear 5 pair pants, six shirts 4 are work shirts one pair of boots and 3 pair of socks left)
I am expected to sacrifice things I NEED so she can steal my money and use it on lingerie for her favebook boys or toys and new shoes every week for her kids.
I have always been excluded from being part of the family and called a stranger, however when they're out of money and have a hankering for some spending. They're really nice nice. However she doesn't even try anymore and the MOMENT she gets what she wants she spouts a horrible insult and goes about her screaming. When called out on what she just did she'll just shrug her shoulders and tell me, well she's a bitch to me because I'm a jerk. Ya... I'm a real jerk..
Marissa, if she doesn't get the last word in or if she takes something and you have to take something back to help yourself because she took from you first, if you dont just lay down and let her fuck you over and get the last petty act in or last take away. She calls the cops and lies her ass off. They have told her a million and one times "no crime has been committed ma'am, if you call this in or fabricate incidents again you will be ticketed for unlawful use of 911" she totally ignores it.
Most times when she's screaming and accusing and making shit uo even she knows I didnt do, ill just tell her look, Marissa.. I'm sorry but im not going to fight back with you, it's pointless im sorry. I wont do it. She says she'll text her call in a domestic.
She finds the things that hurt and trigger me most then hits those buttons over and over untill I can't hold it in anymore then "see, you're psychotic. You're out of control. You need help. I'm scared for my life" though, I get hit and have things thrown at me and besides never touching her or even getting in her face, most times I just submit because I am afraid of what she'll do to my poor dogs when i'm gone if I dont.
Knowing I lost my father at 13 and was abandoned by my family when it happened, And that I lost my first and only child to pneumonia at 19. These are her two favorite things to sit and poke at. "You're so useless, you killed your daughter, that's your fault, all my kids are just fine" shit like that.
I remember one time things were going pretty damn well, I was going through Facebook on her phone. Her sitting next to me, trying to find a video from a voice actor. She got a notification and I clicked it, went to hand her her phone and noticed, well that's my wife. Ass naked. On my bed. In a comment. On somebody else's status. Fuck I was upset and the moment she saw it. Oooooooh she lost it on me. Bkame blame blame. Its just this. It was an accident, its nothing, I did it because you, anything she could muster. She stood up grabbed her back threw a glass of unsweetened iced tea on me, picked up the dogs bear, threw it at him ditched her daughter with me (later she told her daughter that I was mean to her and made her do it) and left for six hours.
Yesterday I told her I was having a friend come over and we were going to go walk the dogs together we go to the park across the street and let them Chase the rabbits rabbits are on the other side of a fence so no they don't catch them. She told me that if my friends came over she was scared for her life that we were going to kill her and that she would call the police and say that he touched her son, well my friend is a she. So, she came and picked me up from work and we went to anyway. I had her wait outside and I went and grabbed the dogs, when I went in, she wasn't there, but what WAS there was a condom and a sock not belonging to me on my bed, and my change jar emptied and safe tampered with. I got made fun of last night. Litterally. For eating breakfast before work.
I have no less than 3 panic attacks a day, I used to not have any anxiety. I have grown a considerable amount of grey hair in my beard and started shaving my head again. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I have chronic pain and I am constantly so physically tensed that my pain level has gone up 200% I cannot bare this level of hate and concentrated malevolence any longer..
I am sorry for the painfully long post run on sentences in the jumping around I can't afford any mental health therapy at the moment,
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2020.09.09 22:32 biglakekoi Step mom nude video

I think my fear goes back to when I was a child.
When I was 8, I was friends with the kids on my street (one girl who was 12 and boys who were 13-16). They would harass me, hit me with me things, and make fun of me. I remember one night when we were playing outside, the boys pulled up a video on their phone. They started laughing and one suggested I watch it. I was confused. They showed me a video from PornHub and it made me feel disgusted even though I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I never told anyone because I was embarrassed but I began to watch more and more of it. This made me even more embarrassed and I had a lot of self hatred.
I remember when I was 11, my older (13) friend introduced me to Omegle. Often times men would tell us to get naked or something sexual or would start masturbating. She had a 23 year old boyfriend at the time. I knew it was weird but I just didn’t say anything. When my mom found out about her boyfriend, she blamed her and called her “fast”.
When I started going through puberty, I noticed a difference in the way older men treated me. Male family members started looking at me differently. It was this look that they all gave me. From teachers, men with children in public... it was this very specific look and I knew exactly what it meant. My step dad openly commenting on the fact that my butt was “sexy”. One time I wore leggings and was told that was no longer appropriate to wear in front of him. I ordered leggings that had this sheer pattern on the calves. He told me I looked like a whore, a stripper, a slut. Etc. I became scared of him, I hated how my body looked. I wear only baggy clothes around male family members now.
In high school it astonished me that the boys would talk openly about sharing girls nudes and “collecting” them. They joked about a girl in my class who was r*ped. I was disgusted. Recently I found a male friend of mine has been sexually harassing women at parties and being a giant creep. The rest of my male friends said “Wow that’s weird” and kept hanging out with him. “But he’s my friend”.
Honestly I would be down to live in a women only environment but that doesn’t really exist. I’m straight so I’m still attracted to guys but I don’t know if I ever want to date. 🙃
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