Ladies and gentlemen,

I've came to the conclusion that the reason the world is so fucked up is that there is not enough honesty in it. And it’s about time that changed.

So, in order to get the ball rolling I'm going to tell you my most shameful secret in order that we may be able to finally rid ourselves of the anchor that is preventing us all from taking our next evolutionary step.

Do you remember when you were younger and you had a crush on your teacher, your best friends’ mother or maybe even your Nanny? I'm sure you do.

I had a crush on my mates mother and I always dreamed of her introducing me to the (then) unknown world of sex. My fantasy was that one day I would pop around to my friends house and that his mum would answer the door in a dressing gown and tell me that he wasn’t in but would I like to come in for a cup of tea or something.

Due to my young age and utter lack of experience when it came to women the only benchmark I had was from porn movies and the line “Do you want a cup of tea or something?” was a line I had heard and I thought that was how women came onto you.

(The answer that followed in the porno was “I'd love something...” and within seconds the "actors" were naked and screwing each other like rabbits on Viagra.)

I went around to my friends’ house one day and low and behold who answers the door wearing a dressing gown? Yup, you guessed it, his mother. She informed me that my friend wasn’t in and that I could come in and wait if I wanted. Seeing this woman wearing a flimsy dressing gown was enough to convince me that waiting wasn't a very good idea. What if I lost control and made a lunge for her?

Needless to say, I accepted.

We walked into the lounge and I sat down on the couch. Being the houseproud type she began tidying. At one point she bent over to pick up a magazine that had dropped onto the floor at the side of a chair. As she bent over all kinds of thoughts were racing through my mind. (I'll spare you the details, I'm pretty sure you can guess what kind of thoughts they were.)

When she bent over to retrieve the wayward magazine I was astounded to glimpse her breasts swaying from side to side beneath the thinnest material I had ever seen anyone wearing.

My head nearly exploded with thoughts of what would happen if one of them accidentally rid itself of her dressing gown. Would she blush, apologise and pop it back in or would she let it hang out and ask me if I wanted to play with it?

As my mind whirled and spun with all kinds of porno fantasies, the kind that only a teenager with an overactive imagination and a possibly fatal amount of testosterone blasting around his system can produce, she turned and asked me if I would “Like a cup of tea or something?”

I felt like all my dreams were coming true. I wondered if I should try the line I had heard in that porn movie but I had temporarily lost the power of speech.

“Yes please” I eventually managed to croak.
“What would you like?” She asked.

My mind started threshing like a shark in a feeding frenzy. Was she hitting on me? Was I about to be seduced by my dream woman? Was I going to live out my fantasy of shooting my young, virile, splooge all over her face?

“Tea please.” I said as I tried my best not to have a Freudian slip and accidentally say something like; “Yes, I'd love to cum all over your tits while you massage my balls and call me your big studmuffin.”

“Are you feeling ok? You look flush” She said and placed her hand on my forehead.

I damn near passed out. I groaned at her touch. She went to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. She returned and offered me the glass. Once more I could see her breasts swinging and swaying like a hypnotists watch and I'm pretty sure I even seen her nipple. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I said and stood up so quickly that I nearly knocked her over.

And this, folks, is where my shameful secret comes in.

I ran to her bathroom, locked the door, dropped my trousers quicker than an explorer who can feel something climbing up his leg and wanked off like a monkey in a cage.

Before you start thinking; "That isn’t a very shameful thing, we've all jacked off at some point in our lives." I ask you to withhold your judgement for a moment or two.

As I said earlier I held a deep craving to shoot my wad all over her and out the corner of my eye I spotted a jar of Nivea face cream...

I know I shouldn't have but I did...

I shot my load, and quite a sufficient load it was, into the jar of face cream.

(For some reason that seemed the most prudent thing to do. It made sense to my twisted, perverted adolescent mind. A facialising by proxy as it were.)

And that is my shameful secret and if I can tell you that maybe you all can get over your hang ups about telling someone that the trousers they are wearing make them look fat or that you disagree with them on a touchy subject.

*Originally posted on my old site.*