You might laugh when I confess that I’ve become obsessed with blogging; reading other peoples blogs that is. Especially if those blogs are confessions of sexy wrong-doings.
We’ve all heard tell of men who get hooked on porn sites and channels where they pay to watch women or men strip of and perform sex acts, while the viewer masturbates; I’m not saying that I’ve ever masturbated while reading some of the accounts, and I haven’t yet considered paying to watch some man play with his cock. I say not yet, because the thought of it does make me a little wet. Come on, I am only human. How many of us don’t have a little voyeur in us who likes to see people shag?
I even admit that I’ve watched people make love through peep-holes, and sat in the audience, while a well endowed marathon lover reduced curvy, oiled women to piles of quivering jelly, with his impossibly rigid, monolithic cock, that never seemed to soften no matter how many times he spurted.
But that story is yet to be told.
I do wonder sometimes, while I am reading adulterous confessions, whether some of the accounts are more children of the imagination, rather than being born of fact and painful experience. I’m laughing right now – why? Because I know that there’s someone out there who thinks my confessions are really a pile of less than imaginative crap. It took me a while to accept that I wasn’t necessarily going to be believed.
But how can I prove that what I say is true? I can’t.
Well, I could……. there is a way; I could come clean and give out my name. Would you like that? Of coarse you would. And I don’t blame you.
Then you could enjoy watching as the tabloids descend on my sleepy, little hamlet and devoured me. Then my face would be on the front pages, and my story……well you already know some of that.
It’s happened before, and in the end that might well be my fate. One slip, one man who recognises me, in spite of my carefully constructed disguises.
Has anybody ever said; “Cheaters never prosper. Everybody gets found out in the end.” Generally true, I suppose. But I have heard of a man who had thirty seven affairs and eleven children with his mistresses in twenty five years. He is still married to the unknowing lady he wed when he was twenty two.
But did she know and chose not to confront him? In the end was the joke on him? How many of his five legitimate children are his? Of course I am just playing devils advocate. The little woman at home was probably a model of faithfulness.
A lot of men think their wives are at home….. cooking….. (I didn’t make that up. I read it somewhere)