she doesn't know how cute she looks asleep leaning on my clothes. :)

47 days. I've been clean and sober for 73 days. 2 and a half months of recovery: 4 meetings a week (AA and NA), working my steps, following nearly every suggestion my sponsor had. Finding a Higher Power and praying daily. Calling my sponsor and other program friends all the time, doing service work for various groups, and even going to my first NA function last night. I have developed healthy boundaries with men, made amazing true friends, made huge leaps and bounds in discovering who I am, started to genuinely love and respect not only myself but others as well. I try as best I can do carry the message. My family trusts me again too, and the relationships there are starting to be repaired. I have the life I've always dreamed of, and I've worked so hard to get where I'm at. In just under 3 months I've gone from hopelessness, consumed by addiction, and determined to die...to a woman who enjoys life, values herself, loves God, and wants nothing more than to help other addicts who still suffer. I've gone from suicidal to finding, and knowing with certainty, what my purpose is on this earth. I just forgot to mention the part where I still get high sometimes. Less often, less desperately. But still secret. My program is totally solid, except in the one way it matters. However, it hasn't made my progress untrue. That's the worst part - I really HAVE that life, and I really AM that woman. I hate that I got what I wanted - getting to have my cake and eat it too. Because it is the most painful, miserable feeling to wake up every day knowing that if you get high - when you get high, rather - you get to know what type of life you can have. You get to know the amazing person you truly are. And you get to know what it feels like to say "s**** that", and go right back to what you've done. Congratulations, you get to see who you're meant to be and ruin it because you're selfish and afraid. Have fun looking at yourself in the mirror now. Misery is always terrible, but I wish I never knew what it felt like to have hope. It hurts so much more, seeing everything I have been blessed with and then choosing the opposite. The pain is more real than I could have ever dreamt, and for the first time, I honestly never want to use again. The funny part about getting high while in recovery is you still work a program. That time I confessed some of my reservations to my sponsor and we worked through that denial? Guess what - that denial's still gone. All of my excuses actually ARE excuses. The character defects I'm listing really are there. It's quite hard to keep getting high when your whole life and day consists of making relapse as difficult and painful as possible. I get to get high, and then I get to spend the rest of the day making sure I have as little peace as possible about it. This is the most uncomfortable thing I have ever felt, and it's done more to get me clean than any rock bottom I've had. Something has to go, and the choice is easier than it's ever been. I'm done. I'm getting clean. Because while everyone around me is proud and full of love, I can't live with myself and that's more unbearable than all the disappointment I'd get from the rooms combined. All that I care about right now is the knowledge that the validation of other has left me just as empty as before. I guess being able to make peace with myself really is the most important thing. I think this is what it feels like to get clean JUST for me. Can't share it with anyone, but honestly...it feels good. Finally.

47 days. I've been clean and sober for 73 days. 2 and a half months of recovery: 4 meetings a week ...

I want to have an affair with an employee. I have a few hours a day at the shop when my wife goes home and I could just do anything, in fact I spend at least 30 minutes j**********. I hire these b****** who smile and act sexy but they just want the paycheck. I flirt with them and they flirt back but that is it. Where are all the b****** who do all the fantasy stuff. I just want my d*** sucked!!

I want to have an affair with an employee. I have a few hours a day at the shop when my wife goes ho...

This confession is true & written from experience. What I set down now, is exactly how everything unfolded in 1973, at a time when Streaking began to be popular, with stories & photos, appearing in the Daily News, just about every day. I was living on Long Island, in a small town. I was 14 years old, and nearing the start of high school, in my freshman year, after completing Jr. High (what’s now called Middle School.) It was Summertime, and my friends (2 girls & 2 boys) were hanging out at what would be our High School, only two weeks away. We rode our bikes to the High School, and sat in the bleachers, looking out at the track, empty of runners, and the road that bordered the field, talking about the prospect of Summer’s end, and beginning school; how we’d be in class and the teacher’s we’d have, the same ones who taught our brother’s and sister’s before, so we knew which ones were good, and which were bad. It was after this train of conversation, I changed the subject. I’d become fascinated by those stories appearing in the paper about streaking, and we began talking about the college campuses where those early streakers made their mark, boldly baring it all, so naughty in their nudity, wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers! People cheering them on their way; the women’s breasts bobbing; and, the men’s cocks, jiggling free of their briefs...naked as the day they were born. “One of us should christen the track, and go streaking,” I said, “Anyone up for that?” “Not me. No way!,” Steve replied. “Me neither,” added Jimmy. “Girls? How ‘bout it?” “I don’t think so, Adam...it wouldn’t feel right, being naked, outside, where anyone driving by could see me. I don’t think it would be a good thing to do. It could be fun, I guess.... “.....Well, don’t even ask me, Adam,” Mary, interjected, “I’d have to be pretty shameless to do something like that. My mom told me those streaker’s should be ashamed of themselves, and I agree with her!” “Since you’re so fired up about streaking, Adam, why don’t you streak,” said Steve. “Well...I don’t know. Maybe Mary....” “Oh, come on, Adam. Don’t you want to?...We know you do! I was surprised by this turn of events. I thought that Steve, or Jimmy would do the deed, but now, they were daring me & I was having second thoughts. Then, Carol, piped up, goading me on: “Yeah, Adam, I think you should do it...I think it’d be a hoot.” I could see Mary, glaring at Carol. What I didn’t see, was Carol give Mary a wink & nod (I heard about this, when school started, from Mary.) There was a side to me, developing, because of those newspaper stories, like an obsession. I admired those streaker’s for their boldness; thought about nudity in a whole new light. In a way, I knew, that all I’d need was a little push, and I’d strip off every stitch of clothes, without a second thought...I wasn’t ashamed, like Mary said. I didn’t really feel that way at all. I felt emboldened and free, and all I could think about was the feel of the Sun on my bare skin, running outdoors in the open, bare-ass naked, with a smile on my face, and my face getting hot, just the same, with a combination of desire & inhibition, running through me at the same time.That’s what Carol, and Steve, and Jimmy, and even, Mary (who truly disapproved) could hear in my voice as I talked about streaking, and were hearing how passionate were my descriptions of what it must be like to expose yourself, without a care, a naughty smile on your face, as witnesses cheered...But, Steve & Jimmy didn’t share my passion, my desire, and now they were daring me to do what I’d clearly wished to do..and, sad to say now, a small tingle of shame passed through my head, and down to the tips of each toe, and I heard Jimmy say, “You can do it, Adam,” and Steve, “Come on, Adam, it’ll just be for Us. We won’t tell soul, about it...to no- one else,” and, that small tingle I should have paid a bit more attention to, just seconds more,was re-placed by the desire that was there, all along, regardless of such momentary doubt. “Okay! You can just watch me...here I go...,” I replied, given that little push, and unbuttoning my shorts; as Mary looked on, in disbelief, and I lifted my tee-shirt, over my head, pulling it off, and dropping it to the ground, next to my bike. “Oh, Adam, I can’t believe you’re going to do this...,” Mary cried, “Aren’t you embarrassed, at all...stop, please!” And this, just emboldened me even further.....I’d show her!; unzipping my shorts, and letting them fall to my ankles, my hands clasping the waistband of my tighty-whities, and tugging them down; the feel of cotton material, slipping across the curve of each butt-cheek; my cock, set free...”Ohhhh, you’re really shameless...” “Not at all, Mary. I feel great!,” I replied, while bending down to pull my shorts & underpants out of each pant-leg, drawing them off each sneaker, then dropping them next to my bike, coming to rest, atop my discarded tee-shirt. Now, not wearing a stitch, accept my socks & sneakers, I turned, with my backside facing my four friends, and took off, onto the track...imagining myself, leaving them in a trail of dust, like the road-runner; a smile, creasing my face, as I felt the blessed heat of the sun upon my skin, and felt good; and, I jogged upon the track, as a car passed by, and honked its horn, which was followed by a second car, and a third, and then there were no cars, and with my cock jiggling, side-by-side and up and down, I found myself halfway ‘round the track, and sweat began to form upon my back and a cheer went up from Steve and Jimmy, and then faded into silence. I was completely outside of myself, feeling so good, so free...this really was fun, and exciting, too! My cock beginning to stir a bit now, and I feel just a bit flush in my face, my feelings flip-flopping, as I struggle to become limp, willing myself to ward off an erection, before rounding the bend, where I knew Mary & Carol, would get an eyeful, if I couldn’t get rid of it, feeling the blood flow redirecting itself to my face, and my face heated now, in blush, as my cock goes half-staff, getting limper by the moment, as my embarrassment threatens to take hold, never expecting to feel this way, with the sun in my eyes, and I can’t see my friends, and I keep the pace; my foot-falls gaining purchase of the track; and I feel the sweat now, rolling into the crack of my ass, and every shameful sensation I’d discarded earlier comes rushing back, as I feel so exposed, so naughty, Adam, what have you done!...looking down, to see my cock, just a little stub now, hiding amongst my pubic hair; and in that moment, I feel as if all the eyes in the world are upon me, and the sunlight is a burning spot-light, and I still hear car horns, knowing the drivers, and passengers, could be my neighbors,for all I know...Didn’t Carol say this very thing...as my face got three times hotter, as possibly crimson-red....and there, oh my, shrunken dick, where’d they go, Mary and Carol and Steve and Jimmy, gone...GONE...their bikes gone...and, oh NO!...Next to my fallen bike, a single pair of tightie-whities...And, that’s when it hit me like a lightening bolt: Mary was looking to teach me a lesson. At least they left my underpants, so I won’t be completely naked on the ride home! Home! That’s when I knew Carol was the one who left the underpants...She wanted to make sure the shame I now felt, that she knew I’d be feeling, was lessened somewhat, by some small bit of covering I now pulled up, feeling the cotton material clinging to my bare ass...my bare, sweaty, hot ass... ....and, I felt a bit better now, that I wasn’t so completely naked... ....I began to think about what would await me at home, just as I hopped upon my bike, and pedaled like a mad-man, as if the devil himself were chasing me, lifting my ass off the banana seat, pedaling now as fast as I could; passing just a few people along the way, staring, open-mouthed, at my white underpants and bare back...just a pair of sneakers & socks, on each foot, pumping the pedals, and the wheels spinning, just like my mind, hoping I’d get home, before my mother...losing track of time..What time is it?...So lost in myself, in my bare-naked nudity...so shameless, how could you not be ashamed..so obliviously unashamed, my bottom raising off the bike seat, as I round the corner of our block, Laurel Street, and.... ....”Hello, Mrs. Gundersonn,” I say, in a very quiet voice, my face red with embarrassment now; my eyes going wide, in trepidation, as they fall upon my mother’s car in the driveway. ************** *************** I propped my bike against the house, and went up the side steps, opening the kitchen door slowly, and quietly. I hoped my mother was upstairs. My legs were shaking in my nervousness & anxiety, and my head was full of spinning emotions, from bold to embarrassed, thinking about how all of this played itself out. And now, as I entered the kitchen, the cool air of the air conditioner hit my bare skin, as I broke out in a further sweat, with goose bumps rising upon each of my arms. The scent of dinner cooking, entered my nostrils, and I turned to see my mother, with her back to me, stirring a pot of sauce on the stove. Then, the kitchen door shut with a smack, making me jump forward, into the center of the room. My mother turned around, startled, and her eyes went wide, arching an eyebrow, when she saw me. “Adam! Where are your clothes? What have you been up to, young man? Answer me!” I was frozen in place, at a complete loss for anything to say. I reached down with my hands, and covered my crotch, with both knees buckled together, and my feet splayed out, akimbo. I was a classic picture of embarrassment, and my face was hot with shame. “Adam, what happened? You’re wearing your sneakers and socks, and your underpants. Where is your tee-shirt and shorts?” “I Ummm...,” I couldn’t think of anything to explain..there was nothing but the truth, and so that’s what I told her. I explained, as best I could, the stories I’d read in the newspaper, and how I’d become fascinated with the idea of streaking. When I got to the part about how good I felt, although, naughty at the same time, I got carried away in the telling, saying out-right, that I didn’t feel ashamed at all, I felt bold and unembarrassed, while taking down my shorts and underpants, right there, in front of Mary and Carol. As I was saying this, my hands fell away from my crotch, and my face was no longer hot. My mother, undoubtedly, could see I was anything but embarrassed now, as I plowed ahead with the story, leaving nothing out, getting more and more excited about what I’d done. I even made light of my shamelessness, invoking Mary’s mother, and her opinions. I suppose I wanted to present the entire episode as harmless fun, hoping against hope she’d take that look of anger off her face; the same expression Mary had on when she said, “you should be ashamed of yourself.”...“because, I wasn’t and Steve and Jimmy cheered, as I got to the half-way point of the track”---my mother arching an eyebrow, once again---“and, the passing cars, honked their horns”...and, knew as soon as I let this out, that I shouldn’t have...Oh, no! “Hold up, right there Adam,” my mother said, “You mean to tell me that people saw you, running around the track, stark naked??” “Well....” “They could’ve recognized you! Everyone in Town knows us! If I were you, I’d want to crawl under a rock. But, you seem way too proud of yourself, and your indecency. Such shameful behavior!.... “Mary took my clothes, and Carol left me my underpants. They wanted to teach me a lesson...” “Well, Adam,” my mother replied, “The lesson, obviously, didn’t sink in.” She turned around, and took the wooden spoon out of the sauce-pan, turned off the stove, and ran the spoon under cold water. Then she threw the spoon onto the kitchen table, walked over to me, and grabbed me by the earlobe. This all was done so quickly, I was speechless, standing there, with a progressively sweaty backside, all goose bumps now, as she took the waistband in her other hand, tugging my underpants, once again, down to my ankles. “So, you like being naked in public, showing yourself to the world, Adam. How do you like it now?”----giving me a good, hard, smack, upon my bare bottom, then pulling me to the kitchen table, and taking a chair out...turning it around, and seating herself. Tipping me, swiftly, across her knees, my bare bottom was centered, and raised high. She clasped me, ‘round the waist with one hand, and with the other proceeded to spank me, alternating between the right cheek, then the left, then center...again and again, my sweated buttocks, stinging all the more. I kicked my feet, sending my underpants, flying across the kitchen floor....and, my mother, chastised me with each, sharp, smack, across my ass. I couldn’t help raising my bottom, meeting her palm, smack, upon my puckering asshole...my bottom was on fire. “MomahhowwhMMMommmm, I’m sorry...” “....And, you should be ashamed as well...” “YesEEESSSsS!...I’m ashaaaaammmed...”---smack, spank, smack, hard as ever, and my eyes welled up, and overflowed. My face was red, and hot with shame, now...no longer bold as brick in my nudity. She stopped then, after two more, upon each cheek. I thought it was over with, and hung my head. “After this,” she said, picking up the wooden spoon, “I hope you will have learned your lesson; and every time you sit down you’ll be reminded of the consequences of your misbehavior. Mary’s mother was right, Adam. You should have listened to Carol, but you didn’t, did you?” “NoOOOooo” “Well, this is going to leave a further impression upon you then. There’ll be no dinner for you tonight!”---SMACK! Three times, with the wooden spoon, stinging each ass-cheek. “This punishment is between me and you only...I won’t tell your father about your shameless, naughty, indecent, behavior” ---SMACK!, three more, again---”because, if I did, you’d get a second helping from him!...and, there’ll be no more, bold, unashamed, streaking for you, young man..Is that clear??” “NoooOOOO” ---SMACK, even harder, as I raise my ass, meeting the wooden spoon, four more times, smack-dab, upon my now swollen asshole---”I meeeeeannn Yeeeeeesssh” “Good. Now, go upstairs to your room, and don’t come out till tomorrow morning” “Okay, mom.” She let me off her lap, and leaving my underwear on the floor, I ran up the stairs, with my head down, streaking again, in my sneakers & socks. I closed the door of my room, and pulled off my sneakers, then pulled off my socks. I turned myself around, and looked at my bottom in the mirror on my door. Each cheek had a round welt, and my ass was as red as a Jersey apple. I went to my bed, and laid upon it, on my tummy. My mother had never spanked me before this day. On this day, in my misbehavior, I gave her a reason to. And, even then, at that moment, I knew I had gotten exactly what I deserved. It was the first, and last, spanking, I’d ever receive.

This confession is true & written from experience. What I set down now, is exactly how everything un...