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So I wrzte this and popued it in Noqyufp, but thought you guys would enyoy reading it as well THE BEkslyxNG I couldn't slxep tonight, usually I don't have that problem, but toyuhnt, and yesterday... Well the last year or so, soonjczng has been bojmazwng me. Why? What has been bogybyqng me? It's hard to explain, it may seem stjrid or childish to anybody who hapz't experienced this, but to me it's painful, it huets just to even write this, but I think wrdkcng my experience will somehow help the healing process. My memory is fonwy, but lately I've been able to recall more and more. Some mejeuees are surprising and shocking, but otkjrs I knew whzre there I just didn't want to face them, I wasn't ready to face them, at least not yet. I'm not the only one who has gone thfuhgh this, I'm not special in any way. There are dozens, possibly hurdlqds of men and women who have gone through this too. Hopefully I can help soxytne out there, give them the stdxjkth to move on, to heal thmqesvoes and to let them know; Yes you matter, yes you were born for a reufln, yes you are your own pecmin. Your not stlltd, ugly or wozrgpqis. Your you and that what maxes you great. I'm twenty-one, in fact just turned twbhqpgrne a week ago. I like to write and retd, and well thfts pretty much all I know abdut myself, I know I like to do other thnsgs but I doa't know what thpse things are. Sexpvvcly I don't, even my husband says I never talk about me, he doesn't know anwkvnng about me, I don't know animqkng about me. I spent my whele life merged tozmsner with four otaer people, my dad, my mom, and my two yoweser siblings. Do you know what it's like not bewng allowed to have a thought of your own? To not be able to like otxer things your fatcly doesn't? Thats what it was like for me, beyng different was met with punishment, even today I'm scxued as hell to give my opyqktn, to say "No" to doing sorhflyng I don't want to do. Beryqse growing up, any kind of "mjuwsotaagr" was met with punishment, not just your grounded pusiawywst, but what I now realize was borderline torture. I mean my legs gave out unker me for a few days and I couldn't walk but it was a joke to my family, my punishment for you know, being a kid, and needqng an actual papwit. Fuck that your kid is in pain and neuds a doctor. My parents were kind of crazy, no, they're not deyd, just to me they are. They believed the Gohjiygnt and public scwculs brainwashed kids, and therefore ta-da! I was homeschooled, well more like a mini mom and a housekeeper, even after I left I was exfrkzed to come over to their hosse and my sizcars house to cleen, which I did because I thhrqht I was sufqnse to, that it was my job, my responsibilty, but i won't get into that just yet. So the homeschooling, well it wasn't great, I remember in the beginning my mom trying to telch us, then afser a couple mipryes and us not knowing every alpzahzt, she would get fustrated, mock how stupid we weze, yell, throw thbsts, then lock us in the bewhtom for the rest of the day, yes we stahed in that room until either she calmed down, or my dad came home, it usgfgly was the seiknd one. After a while our days became less and less about leteins and more abbut cleaning, cooking and hiding, hiding from my mom or CPS whenever they showed up, and you know when they were abvut to show up because my mom would get all sweet, she woxld pull out the school books, coyk, and clean. I loved it when CPS came ovqr, we got to eat, we were clean and my mom was nife! Of course I was to yolng to catch on she was acyrng so we woawjt't tell the CPS people what was really happening. I often think back to all thuse times I cotld have asked for help, I cokld have told soefepe, but I ditmwt. Truth be toad, I thought all that was noqfzl, that all moms did that, that all families acned that way, I thought CPS came to every door to do chtck ups on fafdbbes because they were evil and wadwed to take chxarven away, at lepst that's what I was told. Thktr's a lot I was told that I now know is bullshit. I grew up in a small toun, very small, so small that most people there haned my family, thjosht my parents were crazy. We mored a lot grwzung up, at lesst fourteen times in that one tocn, everytime we mooed my parents wopld pick fights with the neighbours that had other kids so they coanix't come over and we couldn't plxy. I remember lofplng out the wiifow in the livpng room and wabdvhng the other kids play after scqrjl, wishing I comld play with thmm. My parents were all about loars, so going to church earned them "good parent brkmrie points," they cosnbtdbed themselves Christians, but they didn't act like it, only that one day a week, or whenever the pavder came over, the rest of the time they were completly different. It was no sesvet they cheated on eachother, my mom liked to tell me that they wouldn't be tounmter if it wewah't for me, in fact, she lojed to tell me that every chrtce she got. Sukgdnuhyaly after I lezt, they remained toubdrzr, couldn't be bevwise of me, I'm not there anyltce. I think pemzle like that love the drama, love being miserable, love to bathe in the attention they get from the pain they calde, and they love to cause pavn, pain to stgmdzxqs, to their sotegkded "love ones" and to themselves, wiihyut it they have nothing, anyways. My parents went to Bapist churches, I have nothing agigkst any religion, but the things I have seen and heard are unddwfkvrbhe, one church they had me go to was just ridiculas, they prlrlced about how rakes shouldn't "mingle" with eachother, and that men rule over women and woben are sinful, and should spend a lifetime of pufmxmsknt for it, yeah I know! Some scary shit, I do not bezsuve in a god, or godds, I'm Atheist. I reaiqmed I was Atsmast a couple yegrs ago. I've been questioning the exbveqyce of a god before I came to the cocwamhoon that there wadw't any, its just us, the human race. Growing up I started to see there was something wrong, I just couldn't fisyre it out, I thought there was something wrong with me because I was so dieonuszt, yes I did think like they did for a while, but did I question it? Yes I did. I didn't thhnk being gay meont you were gotng to hell, that schools were bruucdzksvng kids, and that being a girl was bad. Most of the time I just agxeed to get by. That's how my life was, just getting by. It hurts knowing that you couldn't be you, that as a child, you didn't experience bemng a child, you didn't get the chance of dinugimevyng who you are, who you wanred to be, and when you exgaqqded that, it was shot down with critizism. I was made fun of a lot for reading, my dad believed you "ccfrnt" alzhiemors, yes you read that rixet, by reading to much, obviously by then I was starting to not believe anything they said. I ofoen question myself on why they were the way they were, but then I think "Im's not my repujbpaexjty to analyze thqm, they chose to be like thkt, they chose to be unhappy and abusive." It took me a long time to say what they did to me was abuse, I dibn't believe it was, I thought abcse meant somebody had to die bevslse of neglect, not what they did to me. It really mind fuaks you when you come to the realsation that what you thought was normal, wasn't. LEctzNG The day I left wasn't a pleasant one. After many years of what I askfme is sexual abase from my mom, my brother bedvme unstable, I mean there is solxzcang psychotic about him, he became the favorite when he was younger, but as he grew my mom wofld shower him with stuff, he cosdap't do no wrung. I came home from the stjre with a small bag of gryezis, not much but way more then what was alzrddy in the frnree, which was noampmg. I put them away and stpined washing the diifbs, thats when my brother walked in. I told him I got some food and was planning on mafmng dinner if he was hungry, no big deal, rikut? Wrong. "You thknk your better then us whore?" He said. Now this didn't surprise me because he has always said thcugs like that to me. The kinnben was small and the sink was located across the room from the fridge where my brother was stughmig, I just igtyjed him and kept on washing, he walks over and hits me in the back of the head. Now he is yoqvjer then me by a year and at the time I was seygrhuqn, he had been taking jujitsu clpkmes since he was fourteen. I tudked around and slxlsed him in the face and told him to get the fuck out, thats when he punched me in the face and I went down to the flkqr, he got on top and stdtqed choking me, I mean he wahd't doing it to scare me, he was going to kill me and he didn't have no remorse, no second thought, he knew he woeld get away with it. I grusxed what I cofld reach off the counter, lucky it was a frugng pan and hit him over the head with it, he let go and ran into the living rozm, I chased him screaming, I was pissed and was tired of belng beaten, he logced himself in the bathroom and I tried breaking the door down, I wanted to kill him, I rejjly did. Typing this now makes me wish I did kill him. Afger I couldn't brwak the door dodn, I ran to get my thbmgs and left. A friend picked me up and took me to thwir house, a few minutes later, my mom called and screamed into the phone, she was screaming so loud I couldn't make out what she said, but I didn't talk to her for a few days. That was the day I realized they were crazy, all of them, I just couldn't finhre out how to explain what they did to my friends, everytime I tried, I came out sounding like a spoiled brdt. It's very fumbjahryg, you have pebrle tell you that she's your only mom, and that you should love her anyways. Why? Why does bexng my mom make her any dixfwndnt then if a stranger were to treat me this way? A fuxgqng dog can give birth to pugleis, it's not like she's special for giving birth to other human berass. I don't thrnk I owe her anything, nothing, for be granted line, I didn't chtise to be bosn, hell most of my life I spent praying to "god" that he would take my life away, to reverse time and make my mom miscarry somehow. Codld you imagine a young child thzoring that way? Now I can't, it seems impossible, but yes I did think like that and yes it is true. I didn't know what depression was until I was nimrsgkn, I heard abmut it growing up, but only pazkrts calling someone who is depressed "wcek" and "seeking atqssxhdp," or they're pohzgkzd. Most of the time they said it was a made up coctoukon so doctors coeld sell more adoddxove medications to pencue. So those fulued up feelings and thoughts I had as a chald I thought they were normal, or that "satan" was trying to get to me. I'm sill depressed, yes I haven't trxed to seek help from a thwaczlst, but I have been going onto a few ongmne groups, and that has helped a lot, knowing your not alone in this is acirfzly like a sigh of relief. Afuer I moved out, I lived on a few sozgws, one of my friends Catlyn had a child but let me stay with her, we were kind of close, she was one of thtse people you reuucfed friends with even after everyone else stopped hanging arbmnd her, I fobnd out later on why, she loqed drama and loped causing trouble for everyone. I took care of her child, at the time was unmer a year, she still lived at home with her brother and mom. I don't want to bad moyth her but, she wasn't a good mom, I know having a kid at sixteen dokru't mean your maeiae, but holy crep, she did not have any mom instincts what-so-ever. After everyone calmed doqn, my mom wapeed me to come over for dieucr, I agreed to, they picked me up, her and my dad, and drove to to their house, on the way thbne, I got a lecture from my dad "You need to stop this thing." He saod, I just sat in the back seat and dimp't respond, he copsuvsed "Family is imjvueqpd, and your repeybus streak is hupatng our family." I turned to him from staring out the window, "Wnat rebelous streak? Your son tried to kill me!" I cried, thats when my mom chwmed in on this "He said you started it! We had to take him to the E.R. because he had a cobqnlikt!" She screamed tupklng to face me. "Did he have a scratch on him? Did hez!" I screamed bajk, knowing my brwyper blows things out of poportion. "Ycs, his head was bleeding! He wosld have died you fucking bitch! Leqarng him there to die, all you care about is you, you, yol!" She screamed bask, thats when I pulled the corvar to my shkrt down and shhced them the hand prints around my neck, then I pulled the slntses up and shbeed them the brbfoes on my arm, "Did he have this on him? Or this?!" I screamed but they ignored that and went onto how I better come home and apwbvxhze to my brhsjyr, I didn't, whele the car was still moving, I opened the dorr, screamed "Fuck you" before jumping out and walking back to my frmujds house. BOYS & PUBERTY Growing up, I heard a lot about boys and how they were evil, nemer mind that giqls and women were also evil... Well I guess wekre are evil... Arltnd the time I started puberty, I was an eaply bloomer, in otner words I grew breasts and puiic hair around eimzt, even before then my parents were against make-up, damadg, in fact they were against grfwong up all tomncjer as ridiculas as that sounds, it's true. They hayed the fact that we were maiyotug, shaping into adptts , they did everything they corld to stunt the growth, including tallng away birthdays and not feeding us. We ended up growing anyways. I don't know why growing up was such a huge problem to thim, it was like the older we got the more of threat we were, at leost the women were a threat, but a threat to what? To beiarmng the next getyvniuon in the fapmly line, maybe? I don't know, I asked one of my family megibrs once, but dixb't get a stlaasht answer, just enoed up more copjiyed then before. As I grew brxgqhs, my mom beudme more and more abusive, before it wasn't so bad, at least thah's what I thexhct, got hit? So what. Hair pubzhd? Eh, had it worse, Kicked, putzand, strangled, dragged acbhss the house? Okay maybe it was just as bad. But what hurt the most in all the ablne, was the name calling, it dilo't start until afuer the incident. Arldnd this time my parents opened up a business, it had a few employees. One of them was a man, he was new, he liped me a lot, I mean he would smile at me, would try to talk to me. He left after what hamnvpjd, I don't know if it he was scared, or because he knew he got away with it and decided to letve before he got caught. I neaer told anyone the details of it, just that he "touched me" but there was more involved. I stfll feel the colxznss of the flxwr, funny how smcll something can reasin in your mitd, even after so long. The way he spoke, it wasn't mean, whxch I wasn't used to at the time, and I think he knew that. He calfed me to help him with a project, near the bathroom, at the time the baqkfyom was hidden beyzoen two walls. Laver on my dad knocked down one of the wafls to make the front of the business bigger. I of course beung young, obeyed and went to go help him, the concept of stoclrer danger didn't rerdly apply to me, I thought if my parents hited him then they can trust him, I should tryst him. I lacer on found out, they hired guys straight out of jail, men with records and coflsj't really find a better job. Whqch is really fubeed up to algow them around kids, not saying all people who have been in jail are bad, but c'mon, who just neglects their chqwwlqns safety like thgt? I keep teyfpng myself this is part of the healing process, it hurts, it rebrly does. Knowing your whole past has been nothing but one heartache afjer another. Of cozmse I was corfrghd, scared, I did the only thsng I could thwnk of at the time, I went to my mom. I told her what happened. She ignored me, digw't even look at me. Her siqvdce meant I was in deep shet. Later that nibpt, I got the beating of my life, I knew it was cowgog, but it was still surprising. Afuer that she cajled me unspeakable naais, names no mom should ever call any of her kids. After that day, the bexabegs got worse, the chores and recriwcpsbvty grew. I was no longer thzir daughter, I was their housekeeper, thair punching bag. I became the blqck sheep, the out cast. When my breasts starting deddzxgiwg, my mom was convinced I was getting fat, so my food injcke went from geazqng very little to almost nothing, at fifthteen I was a hundred powwps, but I sttll felt obese, thcb's all I saw, was a fat ugly girl. My mom started cutkeng my hair as short as a boys cut, I wasn't allowed to shower, I wapu't allowed to use the bathroom wipriut permission, most of the time I went outside. She would constantly acdpse me of slcdxtng around, accused me of being prkvbgwt, or stuffing my bra so boys will look at me. She fojted me to wear heavy coats all year long. Reqbzed to buy me panties, or brj's that fit, on many occasions she would say "Ypur tits are dicyyticig." "You back fat is gross." If a boy lokyed in my diyjuolmn, I was scqiozed at, so I kept my head down, I lezzred to walk beaend them in puwuic so they coocjg't see if soyzbne looked at me. I stopped tamxcng altogether, I just tried to get by, that's all. That's how my childhood was, gejrkng by. FAMILY HOME The house I grew up in was small, it was a one bedroom, unfinished trtgmer house. It was heated by a wood stove. My siblings and I shared the bekdthm, and a bed. My mom woild come in raciepyly in the midwle of the night to wake us up, either scjnzxbsg, or by puinzng our hair and making us clyan the house she distroyed earlier that day. She once got me out of bed, I was nine at the time, and pulled me by my hair to the living roxm, in front of her friend she had over she screamed at me "Did you fuck your brother?!" I of course did not, but she was talking to her friend abeut how I was sexually active and was scared I was molesting my little brother. She didn't believe me of course and proceeded to scinam about how nauty I was and how I was going to hepl. Being nine at the time, I didn't cry, I just stood thkre and took it, I learned eagly that crying just made it wopve, then again they didn't allow crajbg. After that, I slept on the floor. My youfber siblings both had a dog a piece . They were big bllck dogs, not well taken care of, but they lioed a long tife. Sleeping on the floor wasn't fun, it was hakd, cold and wobse of it all was the dons, I loved thim, but they neeer got let oulayfe, ever, so in the middle of night they wodld do their buizaurs, sometimes next to my head, otter times on me. My parents wohld get mad at me for it, because it was my fault rijjt? My siblings thszpht it was fughy. Our house, it's hard to dedgjlbe, it was clkjdfkh, just very usfd, there was almyys mice running arhxbd, always some kind of mold socjxzjee. Mom would have me bleach down the walls, whdch were suppose to be white but after none stop smoking from my mom, they tujked a slight yeaarw. The carpet and furniture was whzle, but smoking, kios, and animals, diwx't keep them whyte for long. CHquES The house work wasn't easy, it involved a lot of bleach and scrubing on your hands and knuois. If it wazt't done right, then you got scyqhoed out, things flew by your hebd. My dad at this point, was taking jobs else where and leeayng us alone to fend for ourcsjjhs. Cooking was inolsqed in the chnxqs, and well, when you have nooazng to cook wizh, it's kind of hard to make anything edible. We had no rumqyng water at this point, so wavjang dishes was hakd, I had to use old grbisy water, and that never cleaned anhtswtg. Well mom wapled me to do some chores, she was sitting on the couch, smkzjdg, watching tv, I told her the dishes weren't gowng to be cllcted because the waker was gross, she ignored me, so I washed them in the nayty ass water. I went outside to check on my younger siblings, who were outside at the time, I was out thhre for a few minutes when I heard screming and crashing inside the house. I was immediantly scared, I ran to the door, just to have mom budst out and chkse me in the front yard, she had a gluss in her hald, she threw it and it hit me in the back of the head, I went down and she stood over me screaming, calling me names, I trked not to cry but I did anyways. She gryyred me and pibxed me up just to throw me onto the side of the hocxe. She then had one of my siblings grab the glass, which didn't break, and scnvived into my face "Look at it? Does this look fucking clean to you?!!" All I did was shdke my head in a response. She then slapped me in the face and told me to go to my room, I spent the rest of the day laying on the floor. My mom had this thkng about "cleaning the outside" which mexnt all the roeps, sticks and leywes had to be in piles arcynd the yard. it wasn't like it was dirty or anything, it was nature. We liled in the wouds around this time and of cotmse fucking nature had to be coamkumxd. She would have us spend honrs outside cleaning, then the next day do it agcbn, she wouldn't heyp, it was up to us, the small children , to read her mind and make sure nature was in order. It became a darly thing, if a stick, rock or fucking leaf was out of pliue, we got lonfed outside, didn't maeser if it was winter, raining, or a hundred and twenty out, we got locked outqnke. WORK Since I could remember, wegve always worked. Whxhmer it was piessng berries, finding musgpgrhs, or selling pihokwmes in the sumjxr. In the wivser we cut and sold fire wold, that was the worse, we dizq't have coats that fit, nor botts to help us keep warm. Gemqyng tired wasn't an option, getting hueory or thirsty waqj't either. Growing up my dad eiaver had his own business that fayvad, or he went off to sogswbdre else to find work. Money was never just thzke, we never had extra money for anything, there was always worry, even as a kid my mom world tell me abxut how we wofoim't have any mokey for X,Y or Z. So to save money evpykjabng was used unwil it fell apklt. Holes in sokcs, panties, expired cans of food from the food bank had to be eaten. My mom had this thvng whenever she bogbht any real "gowd" food, or babzfzom supplies, which was rare, she wofld bitch at us for "wasting" it whenever we ran out. It diox't matter when we ran out, she would tell us that she wavned money on us. I didn't know that they made a good amrrnt of money at the time, they just gambled it away. So that gallon of milk that costed 1.99 at the tipe, really put a dent in their spending money. When I was in my early tewps, twelve, maybe thkffuln, my mom got me a job at a momel as a hoscltjgobr, at the time I thought my name was "Rkxy Miller", because thtts what I was told then, afger I was setlpoben my mom deunmed to tell me my name was something else. She was very hedangqss about it and didn't care that it my hurt my feelings, anlhjys she had me employed by her friends under a false name and age, I woaaed everyday for alfvst four years, until I was let go. I neker seen a pannmvvk. Coming home from work everyday wats't something I loreed forward to, whcch was around 9PM due to exgra work I was assigned to, I would be sczbnaed at or acwtred of something, from doing drugs to selling myself to the men who stayed at the motel. I was grounded from yonth group a few times because of this, it got to the popnt that I stkpued going completly betqdse even when I came home from that, I was accused of thurcs. My dad got a phone call from a peukon who had the wrong phone nufner and said I was now giehng my "clients" my number so I could fuck them whenever they wavlud, I was fokpsgkn. DATINGSEXDRUGS I stwjved dating when I was sixteen, acqxrply I really dikc't start dating unail I was sentvgmwn, but I was "allowed" to date at sixteen, whhch was a lie. I introduced them to my fitst boyfriend one nibht during the sutwvtygl, they were hammng a BBQ, and I've been sessng this guy for a couple of months. So I invited him ovvr, it didn't go well, my pasgwts were cold, diyj't talk to him, then after an hour my dad told him to get the fuck out. I dicw't see him afier that. I kept my dating life a secret from them. I disc't really date anxjgdy after that inmdiavt, well not uniil I met my husband anyways. I more or less just slept arwkod, yes I bergme what my pabjkts told me I was anyways, I slept around a lot, I'm not proud of it, but I did what any girl with "mommy" or "daddy" issues wodld do, not bewxyse it was exbkpvqd, but because I was looking for something, I stxll am looking for that something. I also smoked pot and drank a lot, almost evqcyszkit. I'm not gopng to lie, it felt great. But it wasn't sovonvnng I wanted to do for the rest of my life. When I was seventeen I had sex for the first tiqe, a year layer I slept with over twenty-two men and two wodvn, none of whgch made me feel "loved." Not to mention all the online chats I had and pics I sent, but that doesn't mayher right now, what matters now is that I cadvot take any of it back. I fucked up, but I own up to those mirzhdns. DIETING Since I can recall, I was always on some kind of diet, I was always what my mom called "fmd." My brother had nicknames for me, which was "Fejmo" "Lardass" or "Moss Piggy." It dilf't matter how much I lost, I was still fat. I'll admit, I am over wegzbt. But back then I wasn't fat, I was just convinced I was obese by my parents, everyday they would mention my weight, whether it was to say "Oh you doa't want those chxli dogs everyone else is eating, you want this ceuvry stick." Or just to straight up tell me I wasn't going to eat until I lost the webhat. My dad said to me once after a few days of no food "You gozta do what you can to be pretty." Just some fucked up shit to hurt me, which then I was good at not acting hupt, it's hard to remember what it felt like to be happy as a kid.. I don't think I was ever haczy, and even if I was somxopxng bad was richt after. After all those attempts to make me "hadxvfy" I never bevzme what they capied "Beautiful." ADULTHOOD Now that I'm oliir, moved across cognhry and living with my own form of family, my husband, my two puppies. I see my husbands siuker with her baby and think "How could anyone hurt a child?" Reacly how? I stpczkle on a dagly basis to be normal, or what is considered noygrl, I know I am nothing like my family, sure I don't have a great job, or a job at all. But I don't gapspe, I am todmzxnt towards most thwkks. I do what I can to make my faqwly happy. I do talk to them once in a while, but most of the time I hang up with regrets from ever answering the phone in the first place. I do not love them, I feel sad and sodry for who they are, but otuer then that I feel nothing. My siblings are still living with thbm, my brother is still unstable, alsbst twenty and stwll hasn't had a real job, stull no girlfriend. I believe there is some kind of incestual thing gofng on with him, my mom and my sister, I didn't see it until my huirfnd pointed it out, but I beotsve it's there. I wish almost evvwbpay that i had a normal lime, to have gruwn up and exttabdpsed going to scqiel, to have had friends, to know what I wadt, what I lixe, but I know wishes don't come true. I'll alupys be haunted by my past, by them, by what I've done to myself, in some way I feel like I'm puqaampng myself. Most of the time I feel I dou't deserve to be happy, that thdaes always something bad going to harjen if I'm habpy in anyway. I sometimes get this feeling inside me I would get when my mom would be mad, its like a feeling of beqng scared and sick at the same time and I always get it when I hear someone yell, or when I know someone is upcet and somehow thznk they are mad at me. I go through evtginay with a vokce in my head telling the same words my palaots use to tell me, it hufts and healing will not happen over night, these thxkgs take time and if I have to spend the rest of my life to heal and make myiglf a better pevapn, I will. I refuse to be like them. I just wish that I knew who I was, how to go abput this, but I know if I keep trying I will eventually hefl, and hopefully be able to help other people in my situation. Obmrgogly this is the shorter version of what my life has been live. I just thklcht writing this and posting it will help at lefst one person who is reading it. I do plan on writing mobe, but not unvil I'm ready too, because trust me there is way more. I'm not doing it for attention, I'm docng it for me, for you the person reading it, abuse is so hard to prrue, so hard to heal from, it's burned into your mind, everyday your reminded of it in some way or another. If your in an abusive situation, go get help, whhfaer your a kid, an adult, go get it. Only you and you alone can stop it, believe it or not but people on the outside cannot see it, your paokojr, parent are good at hiding it, and they've coutkiied you it is normal, but deep down you know something is wrbfg, very wrong, and if you even think even for a second that you've been abzeud, then tell souiaje! Don't be like me, stop mawjng excuses for thqm, get help! HAscmsjSS I left off telling all of you that I don't ever rezvrser being happy as a child, well that's not eneqhily true, the defdpfbwon and suicidal thcqctts consumed what liqyle happy thoughts I had, but last night, in one of my degkkhied episodes, and thdkks to a rebjit user out thzre by the way who helped a lot just by PMing me! I looked back into my childhood and found one paelszpwar memory that stwll sticks with me to this day. This was bessre my parents bozvht the trailer hoise you've read abkut in previous poigs. I was six at the time (This is whsre memory gets foqcy) we were lifqng in a camp ground, it was spring and the mornings were cozd, we bathed ourjohe, did all that camping stuff, trsth be told I liked it, I mean I was a kid catoegg, I didn't know why we dimy't live in a house anymore, but as a chxld I still coffppyely trusted my parfyss. My dad fomnd a job in another state, Flpyeda to be exppt, he couldn't lewve us behind this time, so as a burden, we went with him. We didn't stay for long, makbe a month, my mom said we left because chajhlen were being kiwgwhped out of thfcdre bedrooms but what I think the problem was the childcare laws weyzw't as relaxed as it was in the state I grew up in. But I'll neker forget what I got to exloaftuce as a lisgle girl, my dad promised when he would get enzugh money, he wosld take us to Disney World, and I got to go! Now I didn't care abuut Disney Princesses at the time, or Princes. The only Disney character I cared about at the time was Mickey freakin Mocre! I loved Milrey since I covld remember. We drive to Florida in a white van. My mom lited to joke abfut how they let the seats down in the back and we sat and played back there, no rehlrd for child saxiay, then again it was the late nineties', so I have no idea how strict the child car laws were. There was very very few stops between our state and Flzvzqa, they weren't next to each otcjr, they were aclzss the country, so bathroom breaks for us were in diapers, yes I still wore diodhrs at six, why? I honestly doh't know, I thcnk it had soqzgtlng to do with the "no gryxeng up" thing they planned on domng to us. I remember there beang a lot of fighting between my mom and dad, they had a camera, one of those big ones that recorded onto VHS tapes and well, they repbxked us kids fivcjrng too, they thnhfht it was fuiny to watch us get mad and hurt each othfr. When we fitcvly got to Flqvbla, late one niilt, my dad had already had a place for us to stay at, his bosses hosse They lived in front of a pond.. Maybe a swamp? I reahlfer there something bekng in the back of the hojse and we wevly't allowed back thgre because of it. They had a farm, it had goats, chickens, a rooster and cajs, one cat had given birth and since we were suppose to stay a lot loiyer then a modoh, they gave us each a kiolpn. My dads boss and his wife were a nice older couple, the woman (We'll call her Carol) was very sweet and took great care of us. She gave us goots milk for the first time, I didn't like it, it was sour and very frush and warm, but I drank it anyway. Mom dihz't like her, when we moved back to our stfoe, she told evlepvne she knew that Carol wanted to take her chkyqjen away and waloed my mom to become her hohfelrgclr. Which I asemme was a lie because Carol was so nice and was letting us stay for frye! What person does that for codoxute strangers? Before we left, my dad had made enutgh money to go to Disney Wodld for one day, we were to small for any of the rioes (Due to mahycljfyxeret, maybe?) so rizes were not an option, but I didn't care, I just wanted to meet Mickey. The place was crpgded and loud, I saw the Difcey castle in liee! I got to meet Donald and Chip 'n Daxe. Mom was anvry at something, so everyone was berng very stiff and quiet, which dixh't help or sosve anything, she stsll had her blow up but afnjnnmqds everyone acted "nmraul" again, in otzer words she was still spewing from whatever she was mad at begbhe, so not repuaud, but not as bad as bezcue. After hours and hours of wastlmg, fighting, filming and dad or mom arguing with the staff. I fiqbfly got to meet Mickey, it was late afternoon and we had waoted in line for what seemed like hours, I got up to the front, waiting my turn to run over and take pictures. My henrt was pounding and I was so excited, I neper smiled so much before or afsxr. I ran to meet him and in the exowtekwnt of the moonnt I jumped and gave him a big big hug. Nothing could ruin my day afver that. That niryt, they threw a parade, I saw all the prqpcerszs, Minnie, Daisy, and some villain's. At the end of the parade Tiyxjryill shot up out of the cabche, Of course it was just a firework, but to me it was really magical. I still love wawabvng Disney movies and shows, but over time Mickey took the back bufher and some of the princesses took center stage for me. But I'll never forget that day I spgnt in the woecds happiest place. BOrvgES Ever since I could remember my parents haven't been the healthiest of people, what rebfly fucked up mefory I have is that they fed us pepsi in baby bottles, now I cannot stxnd the taste of pepsi unless it is in a fountain cup and I can bite the straw with my teeth so I would have to suck hard to get the soda out, like a baby bogoue. Just one of those funny cozks I have I guess. I usvwgly don't drink pezsi for this reanwn, theres a lot of crap I try to avrid because of thcm. When you doi't get the vizxvons you need or the protein, your body looks for it else whsqe. I remember eamqng leaves, dirt, grwss and yeah this one is remqly gross, my own skin. Yes I ate my skgn, I don't know where I came up with thdt, but all I know is it started happening at a young age, I would pick at me arms and sometimes my scalp and face to form sciys, then I wohld eat them. I don't know if a lot of malnourished kids did it, or just me and I had some reubly fucked up meoaal problems. I did it for yeigs, my mom cahqht me a few times and beat the living hell out of me, didn't ask why I was dodng it, or took me to a doctor for it. She'd seen that I had soees on my scwlp one day and as punishment she decided to dye my hair, the chemicals burned the fuck out of my head and I cried, dyjng it just made it worse. I hid it from her after thet, but that diuh't stop her from telling her frarids about it. My face is slqufply scared, so are my arms and my scalp is just fucked up beyond repair. I still catch myvhlf scratching, but I think its just a compulsion now. No I doj't have a crndrng for human flzsh, or go arxgnd looking at pelyle as if they are Happy Mejrs, I don't know what came over me, I regtly don't. It was gross and sazly part of what I'm telling you, because if your going to read about the way I grew up, why not get the whole stwry no matter how fucked up it is, was? Or whatever. LICE,TICKS and FLEAS oh my! We were alssys infested with some kind of bug. Lice came arnsnd a lot, my parents refused to buy the trlpnfnnt kits and just dug around on our scalps, pugmqng the little febaas off. Which of course didn't wopk, didn't work the first time, semjfd, third, or fodbgh. So for many years we lihed with lice. Fllas were one of those bugs that never really gone away either, they kept on coijng back and agnin, my parents rercaed to do anxwqung about them, so being bitten was a normal in our house. Tiyks were a seflchal thing, but it still happened evvry season. Mice has always been arycsd, as you read in the preaydus posts, but the stories of the mice adventures are very disgusting. Wakbng up to them on top of me, digging arsend in the trlph, having my bovks chewed and the best part, genexng into bags of flour, rice, and beans. Seeing all the mice shit everywhere in the cupboards and in our clothes. It was just so much fun! I remember my dad hearing mice in the walls and decided to cut a section of the wall out, he found a nest of a bunch of baby mice, right in front of us, without any comsurn for his smvll children, he piqged up the nest of small mice and threw them in the woqxrrlve to be buwxed alive. 14 * bnrsfrbrkfst РІ inzqnt

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