were hard to miss.
We went to his house for rented accommodation, it looked like it wasn’t his at all, it was cold and without hot water.
He changed the bed in front of me, for which I thank you.
He was gentle and courteous, for which I am also grateful to him. Quickly and without much pain. It’s rather unpleasant and wet between your legs, but your soul is disgusting and so sad.
I didn’t love him, I knew that he had a dozen more like him, but I decided to prove something to someone.
I trudged home alone in the morning, it was already light. The homeless husky tagged along and followed me for half a block, as if she sympathized and understood everything.
At home, I quickly came to my senses, and even in the evening I proudly told my friend the details of what happened. We laughed and shared our impressions, as if we had gone to war and won. Inside we knew that we had won only a frivolous battle; the real fight lay ahead of us. But they tried not to show it and had fun like children. The struggle of life in which we were no longer worthy, self-respecting ladies. We took the path of depravity, which turned us into mediocre girls, with ordinary goals, without ambitions and principles, without big plans. Just frivolous talkers from the provinces.
Fortunately, I felt this very keenly at the time and did not want to agree with such a future.
For three whole years I locked myself in a Christian youth community and never dated anyone else. Only girlfriends, friends and an imaginary god.
I'm not saying there is no God. I just know that mine was not real. Whether it exists or not, what kind it is and whether a person needs it, I still don’t know; it doesn’t stop me from enjoying life.
The stories of my friends about defloration all confirm the fact that there is no orgasm in this dirty business. Just kidding, it's not dirty, but it stains the sheets.
If a woman goes through this and also enjoys it, then she should be given a medal. What do you think?
It’s a nightmare, it’s not a topic, it makes me blush even more. Thank God you don't see this. The spectacle is terrible. I get spots all over, especially my neck. Sometimes listeners of my webinar or seminar are scared that I have angioedema or anaphylactic shock, but I reassure them “you’ll rejoice early.”
In general, it started in kindergarten. I noticed that if we take my sexuality in general, then eighty percent I liked boys, about twenty percent girls.
So, of course, I am a heterosexual person.
But I admit that in past lives I was a man at least once.
Are you laughing? Didn't this happen to you? Have you ever seen yourself as a man in sexual intercourse?
Then you should try it, it's very interesting. Of course, I’m talking about fantasies. After all, it makes no sense to become a man while you have a female body; you shouldn’t live in the past. Well, I was a man, everything is in the past, I need to move on. Now I'm a woman, it's time to take full advantage of all these bells and whistles.
As I write this, I’m just in awe of how funny and cheerful I am.
How did my first homo sensation happen?
It was a beautiful spring day, the kindergarten was showing a Soviet cartoon about a girl lost in time, the whole city had disappeared, and there was no one left. The character was portrayed by a doll with long shiny hair. Apparently, she reminded me of my ex from the sixties. It seems to me that it was in the USA, but that’s not the point.
I remembered the image of this doll and subsequently led an adult lifestyle at home in my cozy children’s bed.
My parents considered me a real angel.
It was funny how my mother protected me from the stove so that I wouldn’t get burned, from needles so that I wouldn’t prick myself, when I had long known the delights of orgasm.
Yes, I learned to sew and put on a kettle later than my peers, by the age of seven, because it seemed to my mother that I was still a mere child (one “c”).
Wow, in real life I only fell in love with boys, guys, men. Never in women. This is true. Surprisingly, I’m really completely hetero.
So girls, if this has happened to you, don’t be afraid, don’t be shy, leave the past in the past. Live a new life. Use your feminine energy to the fullest.
I remember exactly two girls who were lesbians, but then married a man for love.
One of them was a good friend of mine, everyone loved her, an exemplary girl, an excellent student, a Christian, somewhat reminiscent of Hermione Granger. Lily didn't date anyone until she moved to St. Petersburg.
Then we didn’t communicate with her anymore, but I heard rumors that she was living and, let’s call a spade a spade, having sex with a girl.
Social networks have made it much easier to find information about people, and the rumors were confirmed. Later, on the same vkontakte, I discovered that Lily was already married and gave birth to children, and looked happy. Surprisingly, it happens.
My second friend, a former work colleague, received gifts from her fans straight into the office. Flowers, sweets, soft toys, everything as it should be, only from former lovers.
I was surprised:
— How so, you have a boyfriend?
— Apparently, I'm bi. Because I've been married before and am getting married again, but in between I had a wonderful affair with a girl.
