“Did she find out?”
Jessica froze. She woke Ryan immediately
“Who is she?”
Ryan looked at the message.
His face changed. For several seconds, he didn’t say anything
“Jessica… I can explain.”
She grabbed the phone.
The username belonged to the woman she had asked him about three nights earlier
The woman he claimed he didn’t know.
But when Jessica opened their conversation, she discovered something that made her stomach turn.
They had been talking for months.
And the Snapchat models weren’t what Ryan had been hiding from her
He had been using them to make one particular woman disappear in the crowd
disgusted.
What bothered her even more was that they all seemed to have the same look tall, slim, blonde and heavily sexualized.
Jessica was short, curvy, dark haired, and built completely differently
She looked at Ryan and calmly asked,
“Why do you follow all these women?”
Ryan shrugged.
“I don’t know. They just show up.”
Jessica stared at him.
“They show up because you follow them.”
He became defensive.
“It’s not like I’m talking to them.”
“But you have time to look at them,” she replied, “while we barely have sex once a week.”
That silenced him. Jessica wasn’t asking him to stop looking at women
She wanted to understand why he needed hundreds of them constantly appearing on his phone when their own intimacy had become almost nonexistent
Ryan eventually promised that it meant nothing. Jessica wanted to believe him
Then, three nights later, his phone buzzed while he was sleeping. She glanced at the screen
A Snapchat notification appeared…
She thought her husband’s Snapchat habit was disgusting. Then she discovered the reason behind it
Jessica had never considered herself a jealous wife so when her husband, Ryan, opened Snapchat one evening because she wanted to show him a video she had sent, she didn’t think much of it
Until she saw the stories at the top of his screen, there were women she had never seen before
Jessica pointed at one of them.
“Who’s that?”
Ryan clicked on the profile.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Then, almost immediately, he offered to remove her, Jessica said yes and he did
But something bothered her. She asked him to go back to the main Snapchat screen
She started scrolling. One woman. Then another. Then another.
Within minutes, Jessica had seen more than twenty profiles filled with women posing in bikinis, lingerie, and extremely revealing outfits
She wasn’t shocked. She was…
My Boyfriends Dad pinned Me Against the wall and made me taste my off his fingers
I only went over to drop off my boyfriend’s charger. His dad opened the door instead.
He was bigger than I rememberedbroad chest, thick arms, that quiet confidence older men carry. He let me in, said my boyfriend was still at work, and closed the door behind me. The apartment felt too quiet.
I turned to leave the charger on the table. Before I could, he stepped in close, crowding me against the wall. One strong hand planted beside my head. The other slid straight between my legs, under my skirt, and into my panties like he already knew I’d be wet.
Two thick fingers pushed inside me without warning. I gasped. He didn’t stop. He fucked them into me slow and deep, curling them just right, watching my face the whole time. The wet sound filled the hallway. My knees almost gave out.
“You’re dripping,” he muttered, voice low. “Does my son make you this wet… or is it me?”
I couldn’t answer. He kept working his fingers, thumb rubbing my clit in tight circles until I was shaking and clenching around him. When I came, it was quiet but hard my whole body locking up against the wall.
He pulled his fingers out slowly, shiny and coated. Then he lifted them to my mouth.
“Taste.”
I opened without thinking. He slid both fingers over my tongue, making me suck them clean. The taste of myself mixed with the heat of his skin. His eyes stayed locked on mine the entire time.
When he finally pulled his fingers free, he leaned in even closer, lips almost brushing my ear.
“Next time you come over,” he said, “don’t wear panties.”
Then he stepped back, completely calm, like nothing had happened.
I left with weak legs and the taste of myself still on my tongue.
I hated how they treated Penny. She did not take Derek's life, she only wanted that head CT more than anything she pushed for. If only Christina was there.
The wildest thing about Grey’s Anatomy is the corporate feudalization of the hospital.
In the early seasons, Seattle Grace felt like a real ecosystem. Nurses like Olivia and Tyler had unions, demanded respect, and actually drove plotlines.
My Company Planned to Fire Me, So I Found a New Job First…
I overheard my manager talking to HR about firing me at the end of the month.
Instead of confronting them, I quietly used my PTO to attend two job interviews.
At the second interview, I got hired on the spot.
A week later, I returned to work and handed in my resignation.
HR looked at me in disbelief.
HR: “You’re not giving us two weeks’ notice?”
Me: “No. Is there a problem?”
My Wicked Stepmother Wanted Everything My Dad Owned
When my dad passed away, I thought my stepmother would be the one to comfort us, but I was terribly wrong.
Barely a week after the funeral, she started selling his cars, changing the locks on his properties, and claiming that
The day started like any other at the metal fabrication factory. My husband, David, the most skilled floor foreman, arrived for his shift. Unbeknownst to him, his boss, Peterson, was seething with jealousy. Peterson saw David's rising talent as a direct threat to his own manager position.
The morning of the 'accident' was tense. Peterson had assigned David a critical job, and when the safety alarm suddenly blared, Peterson pointed a trembling finger. "You've sabotaged the line, David!" He claimed a crucial safety protocol was skipped, showing everyone a forged maintenance log. David was suspended on the spot.
His life shattered. Suspended without pay, the factory community turned against him. We were facing financial ruin. He spent sleepless nights reviewing Peterson’s false evidence. He was framed.
Months later, David finally caught a break. He secretly accessed the factory's backup servers. There, buried deep, he found the original, unedited maintenance log—proof that Peterson had falsified the logs the morning of the accident. He also found encrypted emails detailing Peterson's plan to framed him.
The night David decided to confront Peterson, the factory was dark. David slipped in through a side entrance, holding the flash drive with the truth. He found Peterson in his office, celebratory champagne in hand. David slammed the door and tossed the drive onto Peterson's desk.
“I know what you did,” David said, his voice cold and steady. Peterson sneered. “You have no proof.” Just then, the office door clicked open. Behind David stood the factory owner and the police. David smiled. “Are you sure about that?” Peterson’s face went white. The final reveal was moments away.
My dad went to state school in 1978. Total cost: $800 a year. He paid with summer job, no loans. Bought a house at 23. I applied to SAME school: $22k a year
He was a high school grad, factory worker. I'm degree + $31k debt + live at home at 28. He said "maybe you picked the
My Wicked Stepmother Wanted Everything My Dad Owned
When my dad passed away, I thought my stepmother would be the one to comfort us, but I was terribly wrong.
Barely a week after the funeral, she started selling his cars, changing the locks on his properties, and claiming that
I ATTENDED A CFNM (clothed female Naked Male) PARTY WITHOUT MY WIFE KNOWLEDGE.
this has been a fantasy of mine since I can remember. It's something I've always wanted to try. I've mentioned it to my wife and she thinks it's silly. She's fairly reserved, and while I love her a
My Father Wanted to Be a Husband Without the Responsibility
My dad, Michael, had a job he refused to go to, bills he refused to pay, and a wife he expected to do everything.
Every morning, my mom woke up at 5 a.m., prepared breakfast, got dressed, and went to work. Meanwhile,
How to eat pùsṣy.
Most men think eating pùsṣy is just licking it until she cùms
I used to think I was good at it.
Then she stopped me mid-way, put her hand on my forehead, and said, “You’re using your teeth. Stop.”
I froze.
She sat up, looked me in the eye, and decided to teach me properly.
“First rule,” she said, spreading her legs again. “Your teeth never touch me. Ever. The clìt is not something you bite. It’s something you melt.”
She guided my head back down.
“Start slow. Don’t dive straight for the clìt like you’re attacking it. Kiṣs the insides of my thighs first. Let me feel your breath. Make me wait for it.”
I did. Soft, open-mouthed kisses, higher and higher, until she was already shifting her hips.
“Now the outer lips. Flat tongue. Long, slow strokes. Up and down. You’re warming me up, not trying to finish me in thirty seconds.”
I followed. Broad, wet strokes, from bottom to top, avoiding the clit completely at first. She exhaled hard.
“When you finally go to the clìt, don’t suck it like a straw. Cover it with your lips. Soft. Then use the flat of your tongue — not the tip — and make slow circles. Or figure-eights. Or just hold still and let me grind against you.”
I sealed my mouth over her clit, no teeth, just warm pressure, and moved my tongue in slow, steady circles. Her hand tightened in my hair.
“That’s it. Keep the rhythm. Don’t change every two seconds. Find what makes my breathing change and stay there. If I push your head closer, go a little harder. If I pull back, ease up. I’m telling you with my body.”
She started rocking against my mouth. I kept the same pace, tongue flat and wet, lips soft, zero teeth.
“Now add a finger. Just one at first. Curve it up toward the front wall while your tongue stays on my clìt. Don’t pound. Stroke. Slow and deep.”
I slid one finger in, found the slightly ridged spot, and moved it in a come-here motion while my tongue kept working. Her thighs started shaking.
“Don’t stop when I get loud. That’s when most of you panic and change everything. Keep doing exactly what you’re doing. If I say ‘right there,’ it means right fuçking there.”
I stayed locked on the same spot, same pressure, same rhythm. Her legs clamped around my head. She came hard, pulsing against my tongue, hand still gripping my hair like she was afraid I’d move.
When she finally let go, she looked down at me, breathing heavy, and said:
“That’s how you eat pùssy.
Not with force.
Not with teeth.
With patience, attention, and zero ego.”
I never forgot it.
And neither will the next woman you do this to.
My boyfriend won’t go down on me
My bf and I have been together for about 2 months now and it has been genuinely one of the most fulfilling and rewarding couple of months of my entire life. We feel like a perfect match and have so much fun
together and feel so comfortable in each others presence but one thing that has been eating at me is that he has never gone down on me despite having sex pretty much every time we see each other, and multiple times at that. I get pretty self conscious so I’d never said anything out of concern it was a problem with my body but last night I got drunk and was super sexually frustrated so I started a little fight about it.
I asked him how many times I’d made him come vs how many times have I come and the answer was “a lot” vs “once” to which he became pretty clearly embarrassed about and apologised in a bit of a dismissive way. He then asked what I wanted him to do in regards to satisfying me so I asked if he was against going down on me, his answer being “yeah kinda” which was a major gut punch to hear as someone who loves to please my partners and would hope for the same energy. When
I asked why he told me he just doesn’t doing like it and never has, but he’ll do it if I really want it. I told him I’d never want him to do something he doesn’t want to do and it wouldn’t even feel good with that in mind. He asked me if it was a deal breaker and I’m still stuck on the answer because on one hand he’s perfect in every other way but I don’t think I could be in a sexually unsatisfying relationship.
What would you do? Are there any ways to work through a difference in sexual preferences like this?
THE CLIMAX OF S1E10 JUST PROVED REDMOND REDDINGTON IS THE COLD-BLOODED KING OF THIS SHOW
That whole escape sequence had me sweating through my shirt. The second the SWAT team breached and the chaos broke out, Red didn't panic for a single microsecond he used the noise, grabbed the weapon, and turned the whole room into a clean-up operation.
And Anslo Garrick thinking he was going to walk away after putting hands on Red? NOPE. Red putting a bullet in Anslo like he was stepping on a bug, taking his hat, and just vanishing into thin air before the FBI could even process what happened was UNREAL.
The man went from being a bleeding captive tied to a chair to completely ghosting the US Government in under two minutes. James Spader is an absolute menace.
WHY DID THE LANNISTERS NEVER TAKE DAENERYS TARGARYEN SERIOUSLY?
Robert Baratheon understood the danger Daenerys posed better than almost anyone. He was so determined to eliminate her that he repeatedly demanded her assassination before she could build an army and reclaim the Iron Throne.
Yet after Robert’s death, the Lannisters seemed content to ignore the growing threat across the Narrow Sea.
By Season 4, Varys was warning that Daenerys had three dragons and a growing army. It was only a matter of time before she acquired the ships needed to bring her forces to Westeros.
The Lannisters had the resources to act. Cersei eventually hired the Golden Company using money secured through the Iron Bank, so why couldn’t they have invested in stopping Daenerys years earlier, when she was far more vulnerable?
And it’s not as if they didn’t understand what dragons could do. Aegon the Conqueror used three dragons to conquer most of Westeros, and the Targaryens’ history was well known.
Were the Lannisters so consumed by their own political struggles that they completely underestimated the threat Daenerys posed, or did the writers simply neglect this storyline?
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