r/stories

This all started on a pretty typical Saturday night.
Myself, my partner, my sister and her partner, along with my mom and dad, were having one of our usual family nights at my parents’ house. We do this maybe once a month. Nothing fancy, just dinner, hanging out, catching up. We’re all in our early 40s now, and my parents are in their mid-70s. My dad is 76.

We ordered Chinese food, ate way too much, and had a really nice evening. After dinner, like we often do, we decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood to help settle everything.

My sister, my partner, and I all smoke marijuana fairly regularly. My parents don’t smoke at all. My dad especially has always been very “old school” about it. I remember him saying once that he tried it maybe a single time when he was a teenager in the 1960s, didn’t feel anything, and never bothered with it again.

About six months earlier, something kind of funny had happened. The 6 of us were at Red Lobster for dinner and found a small package of legal, government-bought pre-rolls that someone had apparently dropped and forgot right under the table. There were about seven joints in it. We thought it was hilarious, took a couple home, and ended up sharing a few ourselves over time. My dad, for whatever reason, ended up holding onto the rest of them at his house and kind of forgot about them.
So on this Saturday night, as we were getting ready for our walk, someone brought them up again. It was one of those casual, half-joking suggestions at first, just something like maybe we should bring one along and have a couple puffs on the walk. Nothing serious. Just a bit of fun.

My dad actually got curious about it. He went looking for the package, found it, and seemed happily interested in the idea. There was a kind of lightness to it, like he was treating it as a novelty more than anything else. So we headed out.

We walked to a nearby park, just talking and laughing along the way, and eventually we stopped and lit one up. The four of us who smoke regularly had a couple of puffs each, and my dad joined in. At first, he didn’t seem to feel anything at all. He even said he wasn’t noticing any effect, so he took a few more hits.

Looking back, that was probably the moment things started going sideways. He ended up having roughly the same amount as I did, maybe even a bit more, except I have a very different tolerance and he hadn’t touched anything like this in over 50 years.
At the time, though, everything still felt normal. I was feeling pretty relaxed myself, and we were just slowly making our way back home.

That’s when I first noticed something was off.
My dad’s walking started to look unsteady. At first it was subtle, like a slight wobble, but within a few minutes it became more obvious. He was struggling to keep his balance and seemed to be concentrating very hard just to stay upright. I remember asking him if he was okay, but he didn’t really respond in a clear way.

By the time we turned onto the street where my parents live, we were only a few houses away, and I could see his face had changed. He looked pale in a way that didn’t seem right, and there was something off about his expression. His lips even looked slightly discoloured, which immediately made my stomach drop.

I asked him again if he was okay, and this time I was physically holding onto his back because I could tell he was struggling. He barely got the words out, just something about wanting to get home.

We made it to the house and went around to the back door like we always do. My dad got there first, went up the steps, and then just sat down. That was the moment everything shifted from “this is weird” to “something is seriously wrong.”

He started fading in and out almost immediately. One second he’d be somewhat responsive, the next he’d be completely gone. We were trying to keep him upright, but he was slipping in and out of consciousness. He wasn’t really speaking anymore, and when he did, it was just faint, unclear sounds.
His breathing looked shallow. His skin looked off. He wasn’t moving properly at all. It was like his body was shutting down in front of us.We had never seen him like that. Ever.

We were shaking him, trying to get him to respond, asking if he was in pain, trying to figure out if it was his heart or something else. Nothing was making sense. We knew we had all smoked the same thing, but none of us had ever seen anything like this from marijuana.

At some point, my sister and I just looked at each other and didn’t even need to say it out loud. We needed help. We called 911.

While we were on the phone with dispatch, those few minutes felt like they stretched forever. He was still in the same condition, drifting in and out, barely responsive. I remember thinking I was watching my dad die in front of me, and I couldn’t process how something that started as a normal family walk had turned into this.

Then more details started coming together in pieces while we were waiting.

My partner realized that my dad had also been drinking earlier in the evening. We hadn’t really paid attention to how much, but when we checked, the wine bottle that had been mostly full earlier was now completely empty. My dad was the only one who had been drinking it besides a small amount my partner had. That meant he had likely finished most of a full bottle of wine on top of everything else.
Then my mom mentioned that he was on medication for high blood pressure.

At that point, the combination in my head just became this terrifying mix of alcohol, marijuana, and medication, and I honestly had no idea what we had done or how bad this could get.

To make it even harder, I was also very high at this point, which made the panic feel even more intense and disorienting. I was trying to stay calm, but internally I was completely spiralling.

The paramedics arrived about ten minutes later and immediately took over. They were calm, professional, and started asking him basic questions to assess his awareness. He could barely answer. He was mumbling, not forming clear responses, and still drifting in and out.

They laid him down, hooked him up to monitors, and started checking everything. Blood pressure, oxygen levels, heart rate. Within moments, we saw the numbers.

The paramedics immediately noted that his blood pressure was quite low and started giving him oxygen right away.

Even with that, he was still in the same state. Eyes closed, barely responsive, not really able to engage with anything happening around him.They stayed with him for a while, continuing to monitor and stabilize him until the ambulance arrived. By then, it had been roughly half an hour since everything started, and it still didn’t feel real.

They loaded him onto the stretcher and took him into the ambulance. He was on oxygen, eyes closed, and still not really responsive. Watching him be taken away like that was honestly one of the most frightening moments of my life.

My mom went with him to the hospital, and the rest of us stayed behind just waiting for updates, completely shaken.

Over the next couple of hours, we slowly started getting news from my mom that things were improving. First, he began responding again. Then he started recognizing where he was. Eventually, he was able to communicate more clearly, and later on he was even able to drink a little water and have ice chips because he was extremely dehydrated.

By early morning, around 5 AM, we got the call that he was stable. His blood pressure and oxygen had returned to normal, and he was fully awake and talking again. He was confused about what had happened and couldn’t believe how strongly everything had hit him.

A little after 6 AM, the hospital gave the OK that he could go home. My mom said the doctor explained to her that what happened was most likely the result of the combined effects of the marijuana, the alcohol, and his blood pressure medication all lowering his blood pressure at the same time, something none of us had ever even considered could interact that way, and it turned what started as a normal family night into one of the scariest situations of all of our adult lives.

I was shaken for days afterward. I genuinely thought I was watching my father die in front of me that night. There were moments that night where I was convinced we were losing him, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt fear like that before.

As a grown ass man in his 40s…I cried more that night—and in the days after—than I have in a very long time. It wasn’t just shock in the moment. It stayed with me. The image of him sitting there, slumped over, barely breathing, lips blue, fading in and out, not responding, just stuck in my head.

It was terrifying.

We’re just incredibly grateful he’s okay. 💙

​

I'm a man in my 30s who's been out as gay for my entire adult life. I've been with men this entire time, yet despite finding some great guys, I failed to make a deep connections. Something honestly always felt off, like I was missing something.

Two years ago I kinda took a step back, wanted to really analyze my sexuality, and what I needed. What i think I'm discovering is this:

I have VERY deep, previously unrecognized romantic feelings for women. I have very little romantic feelings for men. I'm sexually attracted to both, but for different reasons and on different levels.

My attraction to men has really always revolved around having other guys validate me and want to be near me. I was sick a lot and isolated growing up and never really bonded with my male peers that much. Never felt like 'one of the guys' and it drove me nuts.

My journey with women is very new, but i think it already feels fuller. In a way my connection with guys simply wasn't.

So idk. I guess it's good to rethink things and allow yourself to grow. Just because you've labeled yourself, one way doesn't mean that is the only way you can exist.

It's scary and idk what do l to do. But I'll be OK.

For the longest time, I have been depressed and suicidal due to being a virgin for so many years, despite liking every profile every day on every dating app. But I have finally found a GF who makes me happy, and I was finally able to do the deed last night! It feels so good to get the monkey off my back after all this time. At 17, I was trying to, but I couldn't get hard for my GF at the time. Again at 25, I tried hooking up with a woman from Tinder, but same problem. So, this time, I wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. It feels so good to finally fit in with society. I was in a terrible mental space because of it.

It wasn't that I was horny; it's that I felt inferior, left out, and not like a real man. But, it's all water under the bridge now. I can finally be free and move forward with her and with myself.

​

​I have a friend, JS, from school. She is very pretty—and by pretty, I mean EXCEPTIONALLY beautiful. She was always the popular girl in school, and her beauty wasn't just physical; she was also great at academics, sports, and extracurriculars like dancing and singing. Everyone wanted to date her. She was on the school swim and basketball teams and always won debates and quizzes. She was the whole package we all dreamed of being, and best of all, she was—and still is—the best friend anyone could ask for.

​At first, we weren't very close, but in high school, I became part of her "cool" group, and she welcomed me with open arms. We finished high school last year, and as expected, she got into a good college on a full scholarship. I was also fortunate enough to get into the same college, even though we have different majors.

​The thing is, she isn't as popular in college as she used to be in school, though she has still made plenty of friends. Recently, we decided to rent an apartment together starting this past January. That's when she met a guy at a club who happens to be dating a girl in my class. They've been together since they were 13, but somehow JS and this guy, KT, became really close and started hooking up. I found out pretty soon after. He is still with his girlfriend and actively cheating on her, which JS knows.

​At first, I felt awkward about this arrangement, but I didn't want to say anything since it was their personal business. Last month, I was invited to a private party thrown by a classmate. JS wanted to tag along, but I didn't want to bring her because KT and his girlfriend, NT, would be there. I didn't want to be put in an awkward or difficult position. Despite me explaining the exact reason I didn't want her there, she persisted.

​I ended up bringing her to the party, and as I expected, NT and KT were both there. It was awkward for me, but I tried to stay as far away from the drama as possible. Suddenly, JS started acting strange. She began flirting with random guys at the party and got really drunk. I could sense the tension between her and KT, though KT acted unbothered by everything. After a while, a drunk JS came up to me and said she felt sick and needed to use the bathroom. I accompanied her, but on our way, we ran into KT and NT. I acted like I didn't know KT, but JS greeted him. Feeling nervous, I stepped away. Then I heard JS shouting, so I went back and tried to take her home.

​Things quickly got out of hand, and drama erupted between NT and JS. The host asked me to take JS home, which I did, but KT and NT followed us to the parking lot for some reason. KT asked me to clear things up and tell NT that they were just friends and nothing was going on, but I didn't want to lie. I said it was late, everyone was too drunk to have a civil conversation, and it was best if we left but before we could leave, NT slapped JS.

​JS was too drunk to fight back properly, but she started pulling NT's hair. Fearing a scene and potential police involvement if building security caught us, I hurried, pulled JS away, pushed her into our cab that had just arrived, and drove home.

​The next morning, JS woke up and started arguing with me for not standing up for her. Having had enough, I told her off. I said she needed to rethink her actions because she was clearly at fault: first, for hooking up with a guy in a committed relationship; second, for forcing me to bring her to the party when I had already warned her about this exact situation; and third, for interacting with KT at the party in the first place.

​We had a huge fight after that, but I ultimately chose to apologize and make peace. However, that very evening, she invited KT over to our apartment and hooked up with him again. That was the final straw. I told her that what she was doing was completely wrong, I could no longer live with her, and she needed to move out since the lease is in my name.

so over the summer I had a weird dynamic with this guy who’s about 7 years older then me, I’m 19. basically I was going down on him and I was actually choking on his d*ck, it was bad like I was gagging and he kept shoving my head down very aggressively and pulling and yanking my hair or thrusting in, my throat hurt for a bit after, and ever since I’ve been so turned off of giving anyone head ever again.

after that experience I don’t really remember what happened next but he ended up apologizing to me because I went around running my mouth how weird he was, he said sorry and told me he was gonna get with his ex again because I taught him how to be kinder to women, then he blocked me on everything. I know I’ll never talk to him again but oddly enough I still think about the situation, it made me realize no matter how much of your boundary’s you sacrifice you will never make someone love you if they simply refuse to meet you at that point. I’m over him I’m just upset it took what happened to make me realize that.

I (27 female) was at Animal Kingdom with my husband (27 male) and in-laws (in their 50’s). It was January, it was cold and I was also just getting over a cold. We were having a great time and one of the first rides we went on was Everest. It is a very fun roller coaster but caused me to have a coughing fit afterwards because of the rush of cold air that went into my face on the ride.

When we got off of the roller coaster we were standing together, I was facing my husband, and his parents were facing each other. While they were debating about where we were going to eat lunch I was having a coughing fit, and I squatted down to get a cough drop, and some tissues out of my backpack. That was where I messed up. I didn’t realize I had to pee, and as I was coughing in the squatting position, I fully peed myself. I looked up at my husband and just mouthed “I just peed” He looked back at me with wide eyes and nodded. Once I stood up, he suggested to his parents that we should find a bathroom, not mentioning what just happened, and we found one. Apparently, my bladder had completely emptied, and there was no toilet paper wrapping that I could do to save it. It was only ten am and I didn’t wanna be getting on rides where other people would sit and also, I didn’t wanna smell throughout the rest of the day.

I come out of the bathroom, go up to my husband, and say, I need new pants. He nodded, and we walked with his parents to where we were going to get lunch while my husband and I were looking for shops that would maybe have pants as we watched. When we got to the quick service location, I told his Dad what I wanted to order and that I was going to run across the walkway to the store across the street. His dad having no idea why I was going across the way to the store joked “Oh okay don’t worry I’ll eat your food for you.” In a dad way. I nervous laughed way too loud and walked away.

I walked into the store, and it’s one of the biggest ones in the park luckily. I find some sweatpants which would be comfy, but I didn’t wanna be wearing sweatpants around Disney World all day, and we had a nice dinner reservation at the end of the night. I keep walking and find an athletic skirt that is perfect because it has spandex underneath. As I find the skirt, my husband calls me and said that he followed me in to the store to help, but I was too fast. He told me he found the sweatpants and I told him. I appreciate it, but I found the skirt and he waited for me at the exit of the store, so he could show me where his parents were with lunch.

We were eating at some outdoor tables, and why I didn’t change before I don’t know. I think I didn’t wanna take up too much time in the store and be suspicious. Even though I knew that they would figure out what happened later in the day at least. We saw and ate lunch like normal and I told them that I was going to run to the bathroom before we went to the next attraction. My husband walks with me to the bathroom and I go in and change. I have the plastic bag that my skirt came in when I bought it that I could’ve wrapped my underwear and leggings in. However, it was very early in the day and I didn’t want to be caring them in my small backpack all day. I made the decision to toss the underwear and leggings, although they were very comfortable leggings. I come out and my husband said “The skirt looks nice, do you feel better?” And I said “Yes, I feel so much better.”

We continue on our day and eventually my husband asked, “So do you have your pants in your bag?” and I said “Oh no honey, I threw those away. There was no saving them.” and we had a good laugh. After I changed, his Parents put two into together and realize what it happened, we continued to have a great day at the park, and a great dinner that night. We all now laugh about this story together.

​

I think I finally understand why I have such a hard time saying no to people. It is not because I physically cannot say no. I actually can. The problem is that I don't want to say no when someone is genuinely asking me for help.

If someone asks me to do something and I know I can do it, my brain immediately goes, “Why would I refuse?” They are asking me for a favor because they need help, and I have the ability to help them. So saying no feels rude to me, even when I don't really want to do what they are asking.

The other problem is that I am not good at lying. I don't want to tell someone, “Sorry, I can't,” when I know perfectly well that I actually can. I could easily make up an excuse, but then I would feel like I am being fake. And if I tell the truth and say, “I can, but I don't want to,” that sounds much harsher.

So I end up choosing the easier option: I help them.

This is why people sometimes ask me to cover shifts, do things they don't want to do, or take on extra work. I could say no, but I usually don't because I know I am capable of doing it. And once someone asks me directly, I feel responsible for helping them.

What is funny is that someone who is willing to lie can sometimes look like the nicer person. They can say, “Sorry, I can't,” even when they could, and everyone accepts it. Meanwhile, someone who is honest enough to say, “I could, I just don't want to,” can be seen as rude or selfish.

I don't think refusing to help automatically makes someone a bad person. I am starting to understand that either. Helping people is something I genuinely value, but there is a difference between helping someone because I want to and helping someone because I feel guilty for saying no.

Maybe my problem isn't that I can't say no. Maybe it is that I have always associated saying no with being rude, while saying yes feels like being a good person.

And honestly, I would rather be honest than make up a lie just to make my refusal sound nicer. I just need to understand that being honest about my limits does not automatically make me a bad person.

All of my friends are wanna be gangsters with 0 iq and no sense of humour, they're just like taking photos with each other in clg all the time and posting that shi on instagram with some random gangsta songs, they're nothing more than a failure and sometimes they also try to threaten me, the thing is that I can take em too like they're all dumbahh with 0 fighting skills. But I wanna focus on study and make my family proud so what should I do ? Ignore em for 2 years or wipe their ahh once and make em silent?

I am starting a podcast on Spotify where I read your funny, silly, scary, or insane stories. I want to hear the crazy stories you tell at parties that leave the room speechless, and I’ll read them and give my mostly unbiased commentary throughout.

If you have a story, please email me at prettyunbiased@gmail.com

All stories will be made anonymous, and names will be changed, so don’t hold back. Send in your craziest story, and be ready for my (pretty) unbiased take.

Me: Can I get a double iced latte?
Barista, who is a native English speaker: What do you mean
Me: I want an iced latte with double the usual espresso
Barista: I don’t know what that means
Me: How much espresso do you usually put in the lattes?
Barista: 2 shots
Me: Ok so double it. 4 shots
Barista: ……so 2 shots?
Me: Sure

I didn’t need the extra caffeine after that sobering display of the state of my generation anyway

I met a guy at my job and we immediately got along really well. We exchanged numbers and socials. I even hung out with him a few times.

He has told all my coworkers how he likes me and wants to be my boyfriend. I was over the moon since I haven’t gotten much attention from guys.

He’s met all my siblings and became really close with my brother, but I’ve never gotten to meet his family. I’ve stalked his mom’s socials a lot and seen a bunch of posts of him and what I assumed to be his little brother. I thought it was so cute that they spent so much time together, but a few posts rubbed me the wrong way.

His mom had a happy father’s day post for him. I tried to brush it off as he’s a boy who’s like a father figure for his little brother. His mom even referred to the child as “my little guy” so I thought that was her kid. Until I went through a whole loop to find his ex gfs facebook, and realized the child in my crush’s mom’s posts match the one in his ex gf’s.

He literally has never posted anything about being a dad. I had to go through loopholes to figure this out. I feel sick. Not because he’s a dad, but because I fell for him over these last months and he never told me.

I’m not ready to be a bonus parent. I don’t even know how to confront him. Do I ghost him? Do I say I found out his secret? I don’t think i’ll ever trust a man again.

So my grandma died a few days ago. Her son my uncle is mentally disabled, he’s 45 but has the mind of a baby. When my grandpa died back in 2014 he didn’t really understand. All he understood is that he’s not around anymore. Whenever someone would mention my grandpa my uncle Zack would always point up to the sky as if saying “he’s in heaven”. I’m not sure who taught him that. Maybe it was my grandma or maybe he just thought of himself I don’t know.

Years later in 2025 my sister had a kid named Levy. My nephew is very interested and things that rotated like wheels. He likes looking at the stroller wheels or shopping cart wheels as they rotate. But he especially liked fans he can just stare at a fan spinning on the ceiling and get a lot of enjoyment out of it. He would point at the fans. Every time we go to Costco he points up at the fans.

When the hospice nurse called my mom and said that my grandma is about to start dying process, we all got in the car and headed straight over to the hospice house. We didn’t make it in time and when we all entered the room, it was quiet, and I grabbed her hand and it was freezing cold. Levy had been whining and crying all day and I was a little bit nervous, bringing him in to the room, but he got quiet. The room was very clean. She looked nice. And levy being only 18 months old obviously didn’t understand what was going on. So he just looked around and started clapping. We all thought it was funny so we giggled between tears and clapped with him.

And then he pointed up at the ceiling and started staring again. And I went over to the switch to turn on the fan so he could have something to look at. But there was only one switch, for the light. There was no fan. But still he pointed up and stared. Just like my uncle does when he knows someone is in heaven.

And I just thought it was weird because my uncle Zack has always pointed up at the sky whenever he thinks about someone who died, and now Levy was doing basically the same thing in the room where my grandma had just died. He obviously has no idea what heaven or death is, so I don’t really know what to make of it. Maybe he was just looking at something on the ceiling, maybe it was coincidence, I have no idea. But considering the timing and the fact that Zack has always done the same thing, it was just a really strange moment.

Samantha and I sat together on the plane for roughly seven hours.

We talked about how much we were looking forward to the scenery and the hiking trails.

I still believed this was our chance to get back together. I kept telling myself that Samantha's decision to get on a dating app didn't mean anything.

When we arrived in Tuscany, we spent the next week hiking through the countryside. We talked for hours, laughed, and enjoyed our time together.

It felt like we'd never separated.

On our last night, we had dinner at a small restaurant near the hotel.

For the first time in ten months, we talked about getting back together.

It was the moment I'd been waiting for ever since we'd talked about coming here.

But something had changed.

By then, I couldn't keep denying that she might have seen someone. Maybe it didn't mean anything.

But I needed to know why she'd done it.

More than anything, I needed to know why she hadn't told me anything about it.

So I pulled out my phone and showed her the screenshots Ray had sent me.

She stared at them for several seconds without saying a word.

"It's not what you think," she said.

"Tell me what you think I think. Because I don't know why you would do this."

"I regretted leaving every day, James. I regretted asking you to choose. I thought you wouldn't want to get back together."

"Even if our chances were gone, I couldn't have moved on so soon."

"I didn't date anyone. I swear. It was a stupid decision."

She pulled out her phone and showed me the messages in the app.

She had never responded to anyone.

I felt a wave of relief when I saw that. Yet part of me still felt there was something she wasn't telling me.

But I ignored it.

When we got back to Washington, Samantha moved back into the house.

She started helping at the clinic. She helped feed the dogs, clean the kennels, and take them for walks.

We would take Kayla on short hikes and hang out on the front porch when we finished our workdays.

It almost felt like we were a family again.

Ray hadn't stopped messaging me, telling me that giving Samantha another chance was a mistake.

"She probably met someone and is hiding it from you," he said.

I started questioning whether I'd made the right decision. Whether there was something I wasn't seeing.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Some days, I thought about it all day.

One evening, Samantha took Kayla for a walk alone and left her phone on the kitchen counter.

A notification beeped.

I looked at the phone from where I was sitting.

Then I looked away.

I'd never checked Samantha's messages during the five years we'd been married. It had never even crossed my mind to do that.

Not once.

I knew looking would be wrong.

But something told me that if I didn't, I might spend the rest of my life wondering whether Samantha had told me everything.

So I picked up the phone and read the message.

"I miss you."

My stomach tightened when I looked at the sender.

It wasn't from some random guy she'd met online.

It was from Ray.

My friend.

The best man at my wedding.

I stood there for several minutes, staring at the phone.

Maybe there was an explanation.

Maybe I was misunderstanding what I was seeing.

At least that's what I wanted to believe.

I looked at their conversation.

Samantha had texted Ray after we came back from Tuscany, telling him they couldn't message each other again. She asked him never to talk about what had happened.

I put the phone down the moment I realized that they started talking before Samantha and I had separated.

I couldn't cry.

I couldn't even get angry.

I just felt empty.

Betrayed.

When Samantha came back from the walk, she smiled at me.

Then she noticed my expression.

"What happened?" she asked.

I looked at her.

"How long?"

Her smile disappeared.

"What?"

"How long before you told me about Ray?"

She froze.

For several seconds, neither of us said anything.

"It was one night," she finally said. "I felt like a horrible person after I asked you to abandon the dogs. Ray offered a shoulder to cry on."

She burst into tears.

I remembered how she'd barely been home during those days leading up to our separation.

"We've only texted since then, James. I swear."

Suddenly, it all made sense.

Ray hadn't sent me those screenshots to help me move on.

He'd sent them to make me doubt Samantha and break us apart.

I looked at her and realized I couldn't forgive them...

That day, I ended a friendship and a marriage.

For several days afterward, I wondered if it had all been my fault.

I wondered if I had been too stubborn.

I wondered if I should have done more to prevent my marriage from falling apart.

And I couldn't stop thinking about the dogs.

Maybe if I had listened to Samantha, things would have been different.

I carried those feelings for a while.

Until one day, I walked into the clinic and saw the dogs wagging their tails and barking hello.

In that moment, I knew one thing for certain.

They were always worth it.

Note: thank you for reading me! I'll be posting the finale of my other story later today/tomorrow.

For context this person was a hoarder but not an extreme one she didn’t hoard everything like trash or broken items just a lot of random stuff. Such as she kept her mail from the past 10 years as well as 50+ movies on disk but she didn’t have a disk player, 100s of books, and all her sisters items which were plentiful. All of this stuff was in a pretty small 1 bed 1 bath apartment. Why my boss was annoyed was because her smoke detectors needed the batteries to be changed he learns this via a calendar reminder he made weeks beforehand and when he sees this he says “crap we gotta change her smoke detectors batteries” and follows up in a joking tone “this might be her last battery change”. The next day she was found dead via welfare check from being essentially old. My boss since has regretted this remark dearly and swears he didn’t kill her. I still don’t whether to laugh at this or not.

I got the reference from a work mate. Casual conversation over drinks after a long week turned into her admitting she knew a guy—another corporate type, solid job, keeps things discreet—who was excellent at oral and happy to be on call for it. No drama, no expectations of a relationship. Just service when wanted. I was skeptical, but she handed over his number with a smirk and said, “Trust me. He’s wired for this.”

We met once in a neutral spot to talk boundaries. He’s mid-thirties, works in a corporate setup like I do, clean-cut, quiet confidence. He was clear from the start: open to almost anything physical, but zero interest in romantic talk, feelings, or anything that smells like a relationship. That suited me perfectly. What I didn’t fully clock at first was how much he gets off on the imbalance—me deciding, me directing, me taking. Female dominance turns him on hard. He’s got a submissive streak that runs deep, and once I realized that, the arrangement clicked into place.

Now the system is simple. When I want him, I text. Sometimes it’s blunt: “Come over. I’m wet.” Sometimes more detailed: “Be here in thirty. I want your mouth first, then we’ll see.” He never negotiates. He just shows up, often still in work clothes or changed into something casual, and waits for instructions. The priority is always my liking. Always.

He is very good with his mouth. Patient, focused, and completely present. He starts by kissing along my inner thighs, breathing warm air over my pussy without touching, until I’m shifting and telling him to stop teasing. Then his tongue finally lands—slow, flat drags from entrance to clit, followed by more precise work once I’m properly soaked. He reads my body well. If my hips lift, he increases pressure. If I grab his hair and hold him in place, he stays exactly there and works harder. He uses his fingers when I want them, curling them just right while his mouth stays locked on my clit. He doesn’t rush me toward his cock. He stays between my legs until I’m satisfied, whether that’s one orgasm or four.

Unlike some guys who treat oral like a warm-up they want to get past, he treats it like the main event when I say it is. And when I do decide I want more, he’s ready. We’ve had full sex a number of times already. He fucks the way he eats—attentive to what I ask for. Harder, slower, deeper, holding still while I grind, whatever I tell him. He gets visibly turned on by being directed. The more I take control—pushing him onto his back and riding him, telling him exactly how to move, pinning his wrists, ordering him to keep his mouth on me even after he’s inside—the more into it he gets. I’ve watched his face when I tell him he’s only allowed to come after I do, or that he’s not allowed to touch himself while he services me. That submissive fantasy is real for him, and it feeds mine.

He never removes my hand if I reach for him. If I decide I want to stroke him, suck him, or climb on and take him, he’s open. No pushing my hand away, no “you don’t have to.” He’s available for whatever I choose in the moment. The only hard line is the emotional one: no romantic conversation, no “what are we,” no soft pillow talk about feelings. We keep it physical and clear. That boundary actually makes the power dynamic cleaner. I don’t have to manage his emotions. I just use him the way I want.

Some nights I keep it strictly oral. I’ll have him kneel between my legs for as long as I feel like it, coming on his tongue two or three times, then send him home with a simple “good boy” and a nod toward the door. Other nights I take everything. I’ll ride his face until I’m shaking, then push him onto the bed, straddle him, and use his cock at my pace while telling him exactly how it feels. He stays hard, stays focused, and stays quiet unless I ask him something. The corporate polish disappears the second he’s on his knees or on his back for me. What’s left is a man who gets off on being useful to my pleasure.

I’ve used him after brutal workdays when I needed to drop the professional mask and just take. I’ve texted him on quiet weekends when I was bored and already touching myself. Once I had him come over while I was still in my work blouse and skirt, sat on the edge of the bed, and told him to get under the skirt and not stop until I said so. He did exactly that. No complaints, no attempts to turn it into something mutual on his timeline. Just service.

The arrangement is still evolving, but the core hasn’t changed: he is available, skilled, and turned on by me being in charge. I got the reference from a work mate who clearly knew what she was talking about. Now I have a reliable corporate sub whose priority is always my liking—whether that means hours of focused pussy-licking or full sex on my terms. No romance. No negotiation. Just a man who shows up when I call and does what he’s told.

And right now, thinking about how thoroughly he eats me and how hard he gets when I take control, I’m already considering sending the text.

Not a story

As an older man (58) I think I have a unique perspective as I am humbled by a slight physical disability since birth which gave me the advantage of not having an ego or pride to foul up my introspective thoughts. in short, in my opinion for "most" older men (late 50's & up they need to except the fact that sexlife is pretty much over and be on the search for peace of mind because our labido is barely existent at best and as much as I have tried and with all the different angles I have looked at it I just can't find a positive reason for a guy my age to pursue a sexual relationship with a young adelessant girl in a way that's not unhealthy for her therefore doing so just is creepy and I'm not a woman but from what I can tell as far as a sexual partner goesl older women say 40 n up would much rather have a young man ages from early to late 20's preferably early 20's and younger men just eat that sh't up because that's a perfect match and that is because for males sexual peak is between 18 n 25 years old and for women it's more like 28 to 45. there is a scientific explanation for this that I don't have time to get into at the moment so if anyone wants me to explain let me know and I will but right now I have close this session as my ex and her husband are waiting for me to show up for dinner.

A friend of a friend owned a tattoo shop and we would occasionally go hangout there. (Shout out to Shawn at Syk Liquid (?) )

one day while we were smoking cigs outside, 2 people pull up on a bike . the man was shirtless and the woman had a low cut tank top .

they approach and the owner and him start talking . owner ends up asking what he wanted done and he says "i want my name right here - bitch pull your tit out" and woman proceeds to expose her large breast on the street .

Owner tells them to "get the fuck out of here with that shit "

An argument insues where he tell us that it's his woman and he can have whatever he wants tattooed on her body .

she never said a word . just quietly looking grateful that he refused to it.

this was 17 years ago now (2009) and she still randomly crosses my mind . I hope she's ok .

I was getting ready for bed, cuddling with my cat, when I heard several loud thuds from the apartment below. I did not think much of it, generally they have been quiet but a bit of noise is hardly anything to be concerned about.

But when I got up to go brush my teeth, I heard the sounds of a woman screaming and begging from below. Naturally, this freaked me out. Not knowing what else to do, I called 911 and informed them of what sounded like a woman in clear distress. They arrived within ten minutes and I spoke with them briefly but let them do their jobs.

I don't know fully what happened next, but as they pulled the guy outside to chat with him and spoke with the girl inside on her own, I do strongly suspect based on what I overheard that what happened is that rather than being in danger, that this couple were doing some hard-core noncon roleplay that was unfortunately just traveled through the thin apartment walls too loudly.

The cops for their part were very calm and even-keeled, and I am glad they separated the couple to talk to them individually. They confirmed everything was all good and left.

Now, do I feel bad? Sure, I don't doubt it was mortifying for them to have the cops show up. But i also don't regret it at all. From my POV someone was being assaulted or murdered below me and id rather be wrong about that than have done nothing and just gone to bed.

But I don't really know the couple who live beneath me and now honestly I expect not to for the rest of my time here lol.

Okay, I genuinely don't even know where to start with this because this whole situation is so weird to me. I really want other people's opinions because maybe I'm overreacting, but the more I think about everything that happened, the more I'm like... what the actual fuck? This is gonna be long, sorry

So I met this guy randomly on campus. I was sitting on a bench going through my phone because I was looking for an apartment since I'm moving, and he came up to me and was like, “Hey, I haven't seen you on campus before. I've always wanted to talk to you,” and asked for my Instagram.

He was polite, so I thought, okay, cool. Maybe I made a new friend on campus. He said we should hang out sometime, and that same evening I happened to be free, so we sat outside and talked for a while. It was literally the first time we'd ever spoken. After that, I left because I wanted to go play tennis.

And that's where things started getting weird for me.

This guy started texting me constantly. Telling me about his day, his problems, how stressful his job was, how the heat was killing him, how tired he was, how he had worked late and had to get a hotel, how expensive that was, etc.

I'm thinking... bro, we literally met ONCE. 😭 Why am I already receiving daily updates about your life?

He's a student who works part-time as an Amazon driver. And I know driving around in the heat can obviously be uncomfortable, but he kept complaining about it. Meanwhile, I'm working at a grocery store, standing on my feet at the register for hours, dealing with irritated customers because of the heat, and I don't even complain like that. He had AC in the car, could open the windows, and would get out to deliver packages and then go back into the car. Again, I'm not saying his job is easy, but I was internally like... why are you telling me all of this every day? 😭

I kept thinking maybe he doesn't have many friends and just needs somebody to talk to, so I decided to give him a chance. I'm generally someone who doesn't want to make people feel bad. If someone makes an effort, I try to give them a chance because you never know what somebody is going through.

Then he asked me if I wanted to go get ice cream in a nearby city on Sunday.

I was like... why would I travel to another city just for ice cream? 😭 I'm not even an ice cream person. But I didn't want to make him feel like his idea was stupid, so I just told him Sunday wouldn't work because I genuinely had a busy day. I had an occasion to attend in another place, and later that evening I was supposed to meet an old colleague/friend for coffee because we'd been wanting to catch up for a while.

So I told him Sunday wasn't possible.

He basically went, “Okay,” but then continued trying to make plans.

He told me he wanted to book a reservation at a restaurant in another city, even farther away, because maybe I couldn't have ice cream because I had a cold. I'm like... WHAT? 😭 I literally told you I don't have time Sunday. It wasn't about the ice cream. It wasn't about my cold.

Then he suggested the original city again. Then he told me to let him know whenever I was free so he could call and we'd set a time.

I was already thinking, “Does this man understand the word no?”

But at that point I wasn't really clocking the pattern yet.

Then Sunday actually came.

Earlier that day, I had met my old colleague. We had such a nice time. We ate, talked, laughed, and had a really good conversation. I had also had a glass of limoncello.

Later that evening, this guy texted asking if I was on campus. I said no and asked what was up. He said he wanted us to have some wine together. I told him I couldn't drink more because I'd already had alcohol and didn't want to drink that much in one day.

He then suggested McDonald's instead. I was like, you know what, hell yeah. I was in a very good mood because if the friend i had met and the night was quite young.

Okay, fine. I thought he wanted to eat and talk. He said he will be at my building to pick me up in about 15 minutes( we both live in the campus dorm, but differentbuildings).

I got into his car and everything seemed normal. On the way, I told him I had already eaten a lot that day and wouldn't really eat anything at McDonald's. I said I'd probably just get a drink. I thought we'd go inside, he'd eat, I'd have my drink, and we'd talk.

We get to McDonald's.

I went to order my own drink, but he was like, “I thought we were all ordering together,” i thought; whatever. so we ordered together. Mind you, it was established the we we'd get the food for him, as AGAIN, i was really full. I got a vanilla shake because that's basically the only thing I wanted. I told him AGAIN that I wasn't eating because I was full.

He ordered nuggets, fries and sauces.

I asked if we were eating inside or taking it away. I specifically said I thought we could sit inside and talk.

He nodded.

Then he took the food and started walking straight out to his car.

I'm standing there looking for a table like... 😭

We got outside and i catched up to him ( i had a delay because of a loose dog. Yeah i'm african and traumatised from dogs. No shit).

I was like, “Oh, are we eating in the car?” He said yes.

Whatever. I didn't want to create a scene, so I got into the car.

Then he tells me I should eat some of his nuggets.

I reminded him that I had literally told him several times that I wasn't eating because I was full.

He said he couldn't eat alone and that he got the food for “us.”

I'm like, “What do you mean us? I told you I wasn't eating.”

He INSISTED. ACtually I ate ONE nugget just to make the situation chill.

Then he looked at my stomach and said something along the lines of, “I don't see you looking so full.”

I was like... WHAT THE FUCK? 😭

How are you looking at my stomach to determine whether I'm full?

I didn't eat anything else.

And the funniest thing is that he had told me during the car ride that he had already cooked at home and came to McDonald's just so we could talk. So I'm sitting there wondering why he even bought a whole menu if he had already cooked and wasn't really hungry.

Anyway, we sat in the car and talked.

And this is where I realized our conversational styles are completely different.

I'm a very playful person. I joke, I use sarcasm, facial expressions, little side-eyes, exaggerations, etc. Someone says something and I might make a face and that's the joke.

This guy takes EVERYTHING literally.

I'd make an obviously sarcastic comment and he'd respond seriously like, “No, I'm serious.”

There would also be these long pauses after I answered his questions. Like he'd ask me something, I'd answer, and then he'd sit there silently for several seconds before responding. I'm just sitting there like, bro, what are you doing? 😭

He asked what kind of music I listen to. I said gospel music because at that point I was honestly not even interested in telling him much about myself.

Then he started talking about how he doesn't sing because his voice is bad, how his brother used to make fun of his singing, but that he dances.

I said I liked dancing too, but mostly alone. I explained that sometimes I do this slow, kind of striptease-style dancing, like dancing to slow music by myself because it's just something I enjoy doing alone.

And he immediately asked why I don't do it with my man.

I was like, NOPE. I didn't want to go there.

Then he asked, “Is it that you don't do men?”

I laughed because I genuinely thought he was joking.

He wasn't.

He then said that because when he mentioned doing that dance with my man, I reacted a certain way, he thought maybe I was into women.

Again, I laughed because I thought the whole thing was some stupid joke.

He was DEAD serious.

He kept insisting that maybe I'm into women, and I had to tell him, “I don't think I'm comfortable having this conversation. Can we talk about something else?”

He still kept talking about it.

At one point I literally put my hand on my head because I was so uncomfortable and wanted him to understand that I wasn't interested in the conversation.

Eventually he stopped.

Then we started talking about cooking.

I told him I haven't really been cooking recently because I've been busy with work, moving, looking for accommodation, and everything else I have going on.

He was like, “Busy doing what?”

It almost felt like he didn't believe I could actually be busy.

Then he asked what I eat if I don't cook.

I said, “Food.” 😭

That finally turned into a little bit of joking, and he told me he's a huge foodie.

Then he started talking about how when he's with me, he'll call me randomly and say, “Let's go get ice cream,” or “Let's go get food,” and that I shouldn't turn him down.

He literally said that when he offers food to somebody and they turn him down, he feels sad.

I told him straight up that I shouldn't have to compromise myself because his feelings might get hurt.

I also told him that I'm trying to reduce sugar and don't want to constantly be eating sweets. Same with alcohol.

He basically said that when he calls me to go get food, I better say yes because otherwise he'll feel bad.

I told him, “No. I cannot compromise my health because you're going to feel bad.”

Then he tried to say that's not what he meant, but... that is literally what he said.

I told him that if I say no, no means no.

Then we somehow got onto meat. And he asked if that'd better. Hell yeah give me my protein!

I said I love meat, meaning normal meat like chicken, beef, pork, etc.

He started asking about dogs and cats.

Then frogs.

He asked if I eat frogs.

I was like, “Ew, no.”

Then I asked him if HE eats frogs.

And he said, “I can neither accept nor deny the fact that I've eaten a frog.”

I thought he was joking.

I laughed and said something like, “Oh, you're exercising your right to remain silent.”

He was completely serious.

I asked again, “Wait, do you actually eat frogs?”

And he gave me the exact same answer.

Then I joked that that's what people say when they've actually done it.

And suddenly HE told ME that why do i have to c onclude that because he said. Sounding kinda pissed. And that he wasn't comfortable having this conversation and didn't want to talk about it anymore.

I'm sitting there thinking... BRO, THIS IS ABOUT FROGS. 😭😭😭. I was like for real? He repeatedly himself. I was just - noted!

I was so stunned that I just turned to my drink, looked out the window and said nothing.

Then ge broke the silence and we continued talking about random things.

At some point I said, “Shouldn't we drive home?” because nobody was really eating anymore and I'd finished my drink.

I packed up his leftover food so it wouldn't fall while he was driving.

On the way home, he was telling me about how he had to wake up early the next morning, run errands, be in another city at 10, put oil in his car, etc.

Again, venting to me like we're best friends.

I gave him some practical advice about how he could organize the errands so he wouldn't have to drive around unnecessarily. Ofcourse after empathising with him.

He basically dismissed it, so I was like, whatever, do you.

When he dropped me off, it was already around midnight.

He asked if it was okay if he texted me that night.

I told him I had work the next day and needed to sleep.

He said he'd text me anyway.

I told him if he texted me, I wouldn't reply.

He said I had to reply.

I was literally like... WHAT?

I eventually just said okay because I wanted to get out of the car.

Then he texted me later saying he had a good time. I just liked the message.

Then he started sending me updates about his gaming, telling me he was losing, asking me for movie recommendations, sending me videos, etc.

I didn't reply.

And I don't plan to.

There was also another thing that bothered me.

At one point I joked that he was making my cortisol levels skyrocket because he wouldn't change a topic I was uncomfortable with.

Instead of laughing, he started telling me how intelligent I am because I said “cortisol levels” instead of simply saying “I'm stressed.”

He repeatedly told me how much he liked the way I speak, how I speak intelligently, how he's attracted to intelligent people, and then started telling me how beautiful I am.

Once would've been fine.

But he kept repeating it.

“You're very beautiful.”

“You're very, very beautiful.”

I was like, okay, thank you, thank you, thank you 😭 because I just wanted him to stop.

And at one point while we were sitting in the front seats, he put his arm/hand over my seat, which made me even more uncomfortable.

Sometimes he'd say some diabolical shit, then later saying it's teasing. The fuck no it's not?! Saying how he trying to know me to see if we have things in common.

But I told him honestly that I don't think we have that much in common.

Our food preferences are completely different. Even stupid things like ketchup. He apparently eats pommes with ketchup, while I'd rather have it with mayonnaise. He was so shocked by my preferences and seemed genuinely disappointed whenever I rejected something he liked.

He's also a huge foodie.

I'm not trying to make my life revolve around food. I'm trying to be more mindful about what I eat and how often I have sweets/alcohol. ( I have a bad relationship with food. I tend to eat a lot when stressed- he doesn't know that, cuz again, we just met).

He's also a homebody who likes gaming.

I'm much more active. I like going out, playing volleyball, playing tennis, doing sports, exploring, being up and doing things.

When I told him that we're different in terms of activities, he basically said that he could take me to nice places to eat.

And I'm thinking... that's not what I mean. 😭

When I go out, I want to DO something. I want to play something, explore somewhere, go on an adventure, etc. Not just constantly go eat.

He also keeps talking about the future using “we.”

“We'll go here.”

“We'll eat there.”

“We'll do this.”

“We'll do that.”

I'm sitting there thinking: WHO IS WE? We literally just met.

He also asked what time I start work and what time I finish, and I was thinking, why do you need to know my entire schedule? If you text me while I'm working, I'll either reply later or tell you I'm busy. Simple.

I feel like he's trying to get to know me, but his way of doing it feels very controlling to me. He seems like he wants to be this “alpha male” type who decides what we're doing, where we're going, what we're eating, and expects the woman to just go along with it.

Maybe I'm wrong about that. Maybe he's just extremely socially awkward and doesn't realize how he's coming across.

But the biggest issue for me is that he doesn't seem to understand no.

No to ice cream > another restaurant.

No to Sunday > another plan.

No to food > “you have to eat.”

No to sweets → “you better say yes when I call you.”

No to the sexual topic → continues.

No to texting late → “I'm going to text you and you should reply.”

And then the whole “we're going to do this in the future” thing.

I tried to give him a chance because I thought maybe he was lonely and just needed someone to talk to.

But honestly?

After this whole experience, I don't want to see him again.

I don't even think he's necessarily a bad person. I just feel like our personalities are completely incompatible, and more importantly, I don't like the way he responds when I set boundaries.

Maybe I'm being dramatic. Maybe he's just socially awkward. Maybe I'm interpreting everything too negatively because I was already tired and irritated.

But I genuinely want to know what other people think because the whole night left me with such a massive ICK.

And the funniest part is that I spent the entire night trying to make the conversation fun because I didn't want things to be awkward, while internally I was literally counting down until he drove me home.

In the Gentlemen’s Club where I managed, we always had a girl checking Id’s and collecting cover charge.

One day she called me to the front door. She opened the door and pointed across the street. “It’s the Goldfish Mobile”, they parked at the restaurant so no one would know they were at a Gentlemen’s Club.

It was a giant Goldfish with big black sunglasses built on an auto chassis. She said the two guys driving it were inside.

Our shift ended without any problems, when I left the Goldfish was gone.

The Door Girl missed her next day shift, no messages from her and she wouldn’t answer her phone. We got really worried . Her roommate didn’t know anything. It was unlike her to miss a shift. We even tried to contact someone from her Applicstion under Emergency contact. It was time to call the Police

By this time she had missed two shifts. We received a call from her roommate . She was in Arizona having the time of her life riding in the Goldfish Mobile. She was safe.

Maybe she fell in Love. She never came back to work, never collected her last check. All we know… she was in the Goldfish .