i have a small dick, and i like guys with small

Dear Jake, I confess. When I first met you in 2010, I didn't think you would mean so much to me. Actually, I only had eyes for your friend, James. But as we became better friends, I found out relationship growing and becoming something beautiful. You are a really funny guy, and always a barrel of laughs. I can't even begin to count the amount of times we were kicked out of our drama theatre room for giggling or hitting each other. We always had our antics. Especially that night we spun around in the rain for ten minutes straight before falling over and debating between each other what "It's Complicated" meant for a relationship status on Facebook. I'm glad that I got to be with you that year. I really liked you. And I felt really privliged to have that same feeling be returned by someone two years older than me. I got to meet people I had never met before, and became friends with so many of them. You changed me from the shy little grade nine girl, into the out-going, slap stick confident girl that I am now. You introduced me to the gaming world, and trolling. You brought me to 5Jan and stayed up with me for hours talking. You even wrote a poem for me in Shakespearian language, translated to Italian because we both loved them so much, I still quote that today! When we broke up, I felt the relationship had kindled to a barely dwindling fire. I wasn't surprised. We didn't talk for months, but I still saw you every day and I missed you. When we started talking again, I was so happy I danced around my room for ages. In 2011, we became a couple again and you meant more to me than a shiny pokemon! I can never forget the rainy days we spent watching wave watching at the beach, or the times I would trip you running to the bus if you tried tackling me. I could hide in your senior's jacket for ages, it was so warm from your body heat. And our nights were just as exciting as our days as we stayed awake Skyping and playing your Xbox. I even convinced you to make me a sandwich! And you had told me it was OK, because you thought we were meant to be together anyway. When we split up the second time, I could barely refrain from crying. And I remember the last thing you said to me, "Of course we can be friends." Yeah, well that didn't work out. And for the next 11 months that you hated me, ignored me, dissed me, shunned me, swore at me, mocked me and otherwise made my life a living h***, my parents split up and Dad moved 12 hours away and my grandfather died of terminal cancer. Not good, and you made that worse by getting your friends to gang up and bully me. Even my own friends were so scared around them, that they stopped hanging around me. Life had gone completely downhill, and I felt it couldn't get worse. Then my family was accused of sexually abusing a little girl we had never even met before, my friend was charged and jailed for rape and my best friend moved to a different country. I recited the eulogy at my grandfather's funeral and packed my Dad's stuff up into the removalist truck, all whilst receiving hate messages and bullying threats from your friends. I remember, the first night in the year that I hadn't cried myself to sleep, I was awake watching a movie with Neil Patrick Harris, one of OUR favourite actors, and I wore a real smile and laughed with my heart. You weren't even on my mind. But then James rang, and he told me to stay the f*** away from you, and so he declared that we were no longer friends, until OUR situation was through. I didn't watch the rest of the movie, I went straight to bed. By December, it had been eight months since we had first stopped talking. And by God, did I miss you. I loved you the entire time that you had slaughtered me with this bullshit that I dealt with day in and out. I knew that 2011 was by far, the worst year of my life, so far. I had lied to friends on numerous occassions saying that I had no feeling for you whatsoever, other than hatred, pity and regret. Really, it was love, regret and sadness. Thank God by then you had stopped abusing me. But when graduation came around, I knew it was my last time to see you. I knew it was going to be a horrible, life changing moment for me. I stood at the back of the crowd, smile on my face, waving to the many friends I had made over the years thanks to you. It was sad to see them go, but I promsied myself months ago, I wouldn't cry. I couldn't spot your face in the marching crowd anywhere. I wasn't sure I wanted to, but no matter where we were, I could always pick your face from the crowd. You were at the very back. And now, I wonder if it were purposeful. I held on tightly to my best friend's hand in fear of what you could say or do to me, or maybe that you may be the one to make me finally cry in front of everyone. Hundreds were already crying, but I had vowed I wouldn't. Not in front of the entire school, which I still had to attend for grade 11 and 12. When I looked up, you were staring at me, and you had a kind of sadness in your eye. You looked away, but one of your friends pushed you toward me. My heart stopped. You pushed through the thick crowd to get to me, right at the back, where I should've been hidden from view, and believe me, you caught a lot of people's attention. Everyone turned to watch us, expecting a dramatic romantic departure, most of them not even knowing about us or our past. Then you flipped me off and said, "F*** you B****, bye-bye." And you quickly ran off. I turned to my best friend and smiled. "Well, wasn't that lovely?" I asked him. He stared at me for a moment then smiled too. "Yeah totally." I burst into tears. I don't think I had ever cried harder, or so painfully before. Not even when my grandfather died, or my Dad moved away, not when I was questioned by police or I found out my friend was a rapist. My best friend chased you out of the school, and almost had you, by the back of your school blouse, but the teachers ripped him off of you, but he got to keep a chunk of your formal uniform. He held me as I cried when I found him. But I was so grateful for him, if only his anger would subside. That night, the shock of the event got to me, and as my best friend hugged me arond the waist like you used to, I felt a wave of sickness rush over me as I almost blacked out. I don't know why, but I know that's not normal. In January, I still, surprisingly loved you. I didn't cry over you anymore, and rarely thought about you, but I meant someone. His name is Jak. Which is so close to Jake. He was amazing, and a real genuine gentlemen. Too bad the feeling wasn't mutual. I never saw Jak after that, and I still thought about you. As far as friends and family were concerned, I didn't like or love anyone. My parents insisted my best friend and I were meant to be, but I only recently found out, really my Dad thought it would always be you, but you disappointed him. I was shocked too. On your 18th birthday, in March, I tried one last feeble shot at messaging you, wishing you a happy birthday. You had gotten a tattoo done on your left arm of the Skyrim logo, a game we both knew and loved. We talked about that for a while, and a lot more. I was surprised that you were actually responding to me, and in a nice manner, not abusive. When we linked our Skype accounts we talked even more frequently. Whenever possible, we would video call and talk until 5am, telling the other, "No you hang up first." I was really happy to be back on your good side, but never could I confess I still passionately loved and missed you. Nor did you know about my sleepless nights and horrible studying habits, and how life had gone down the drain. Heck, I even considered suicide once, but was too cowardly to go through with it. It felt even worse since my mother refused to let me see a shrink for the entire year I begged her, telling me I was fine and I would deal. I guess I became addicted to my depression and sadness of loss over you. It was like you were literally dead and gone, and I wasn't coping like someone should. Even then I knew I was insane. And one day, I had burst into tears, screaming that I deal with too much, I handle too much. Why did I have to nurse depressed 40 year olds? Why did I have to have the dying grandfather? Where was my Dad in all this? Where was my old friend who I had trusted? Where were you? I hadn't known, as I exploded that day, that you were in the room beside me, watching as I clutched my own head, crying my eyes out, a headache and misery bringing me to my knees that all I could mutter was, "I deal with too much." Even my best friend was scared to approach me. And you just walked past and laughed at me, sitting on the path, beneath your feet. By God, my best friend wanted to kill you. Literally. But now, in April we're talking again. Funny how that is. No one hates you for what you did to me, now. But only because I always forgave you instantly. Now that we talk so often, I believe that you want me back in your life. Especially since you always fight to keep the conversation going, or go out of your way to call me or ask to see me. And it's only been two weeks. Mitch, your best friend told me last night that HE had told you to be nice to me. So you hadn't come to your senses and grown up now that your 18. You had your many months younger friend tell you off for being such a d*** and so you decided enough was enough. Well, good for you. And you can send me all the hearts, winky-faces and smileys in the world, but no matter what you say or do, I'm not going to send you an explicit picture of myself. Call me boring, call me old-fashioned. But 1. I don't trust the internet with that. 2. You really think I TRULY trust you again? But thank you Jake, for letting me keep the necklace you gave me almost two years ago. I know you wanted it back, and I just can't find it, yet, but thanks for letting me keep it anyway, you know it meant the world to me, and I think that's why you wanted it back. I wish you were online tonight, I have something to show you. Truly Love, Forever and Always- Harley.

Dear Jake, I confess. When I first met you in 2010, I didn't think you would mean so much to me. Ac...

I confess that i am a pakistani boy,i went to russia for my studies,and in my 1st year a fall in love with a waitress which was lovely we went to club and she became drunk,we came to my place we slept together and she tried to do s** but i couldnt,my p**** is so small,and it couldnt stand,then she made fun of me all the time,she next day told her girl friends about that and they all called me tiny man,but i loved her so much that i begged her to stay with me,she said ok b**** but you have to be a slave to me,i agreed. so next night i got ready to be but she said it cant be like that as you are such a useless man.i want to make you a women,i disagreed she said sleep on floor but i begged her to let me sleep to her feet,she said it can only be done if i agrees to become a girl i said ok,she let me sleep to her feet. next morning she said me to remove all my clothes and be fit in a gown completely naked,she took me to a beauty salon.in russia it is not usual to take a man for feminization,the salon staff not agreed,but she said me to pay them 1000usd dollars to agree,they agreed and laughed that how stupid as whole i am,they took me another room and asked me to strip naked,then they waxed me all over,shaved my head made my eyebrows pencil like,put waig and makeup,then we left from there to market where evryone laughed at me ,we came home and she asked me to sit under her and drink her p***,i did,we lived fgor two weeks and then she left me crying,i couldnt got to my studies due to my look for more 3 weeks,and now i came back to pakistan,i merried but still a h*** life which i will tell next time,thanks

I confess that i am a pakistani boy,i went to russia for my studies,and in my 1st year a fall in lov...

a few years back i was fooling around with my gay lover reinhold. we mixed a batch of concrete and i reclined on the table with my feet up on the wall. reinhold then placed a funnel in my rectum and poured in the mixture.

a few years back i was fooling around with my gay lover reinhold. we mixed a batch of concrete and i...