Memoirs: Everyone Keeps a Pocketful of Horrid Secrets













Evening finds me, home alone, jaded and depressed. My only solace would come if only I could get a shuteye.

Yet...

Morning mocks me as I woke up from a dream that I had of you.

Now…

Daylight haunts me as I realized that you not here anymore. How you fucking left me, and the life that I fucking toil for all disappear.

Sometimes you just haven't a fucking ass clue as to why things around you gets fucked up beyond your fucking imagination. Just when you fucking think that it is safe to let your fucking guard down, someone or something would just walk right up behind you, pull down your pants and fucking rape you right in the ass without even the courtesy of giving you proper lubrication before going in.

Eventhough I've never been cocked in the ass but I am sure coming home to find your fiancé in the arms of a total stranger holds the similar kind of fucked up feelings, far worse than snapping a thick yellow rubber band on your genitals.

I've faced rejections and I’m cock sure you fucking had your share too. But this one is special because I'm not even a cunt hair close to competing with your new lover...


Your new lover could be a better friend like the one you never had;

Your new lover could read a girl's mind far better than any guy;

Your new lover could feel the things that you feel;

Your new lover could share things that I never could;

Your new lover could understand your troubles and needs like I never could;

And you could definitely share your slutty dress, your 5 dollar whore-like lingerie, your deceiving push-ups, your fake ass eye lashes and your cheap perfume...


But one thing your new lover could never be...


This is written by a man who thought he could finally move on and settle down to have a normal life but nothing is what it seems.

Yeah, you might fucking look into your faithful girl/boyfriend’s or wife/husband's eyes and you fucking say you placed your fucking trust in them and that you think they won't ever betray you. [That is what they all said at first]

But how sure can you be, can you fucking see what the fuck is behind closed doors?

The late night working overtime, the frequent business trips, the so-called other gender outings; are they really what they are supposed to be? The increasing number of phone calls that tells you not to wait up for them; don't tell me there isn't a tinge of doubt in you.

Maybe he is on his knees fucking a stranger or maybe it is someone you know and is very close to. Maybe, she is spreading her legs wide apart for her boss or co-worker who could afford to buy her things your pathetic paycheck could never. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he could cum harder when he is with her? She moans louder and is so much more moist down there when another man other than you is fucking her.

Don't shove these thoughts aside because you and I know that we will never be 100% sure that these are just wild and ridiculous thoughts.

I've had a couple of married women before and usually they'll call their husband after we finished fucking. I guess it is an act of guilt to atone for the wrong doings or should I say the wrong fuckings they have committed.

So, I'm really sorry to say this, if you're always getting phone from your other half saying that they miss you for nothing. You know you' fucked! Or should I say your other half has been fucked.

Everyone keeps a pocketful of horrid secrets from their other half, what makes you think yours is a fucking saint?



So ask yourself this today, why doesn’t she spread her legs as wide as she used to? Or why all he gives you these days is just a half ass erection that could barely fill the void between your legs?