Anonymous Confession 1

Sit back.
Relax.
Listen.

Now reach down.
Between your legs.
Touch.

Do it.
Ok.  I know you're not all doing it.
I said, do... it...
I'm waiting.  I'm watching.
Just stroke, over your clothing, between your legs.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
How nice.

Now stop.
Really.
Put your hands down.

I still see you touching.

Quit being an obstinate bitch and doing the opposite of what I tell you.

Stop it.

Quiet now.

Close your eyes.
Close your mouth.
Close your legs.

This is confessions.
So let me confess something.

I like to fuck.
But, is that really a confession if everyone already knows that?
Ok then, I guess not.

Let's change that statement.

I like to fuck with you.
Of course I do.
I'm doing it now.
You knew that, right?

You can't stop it.
It's already been done.
You've already been fucked.
Right here in front of everyone.
Such a whore.
You're so damn easy.

Touching yourself in public.
At some anonymous strangers command.

Am I a Domme?
Am I a sub?
Were you just punked?

I bet you still want to rub your crotch, don't you?
I knew it felt good.
But no.  Done.
You insatiable tart.
You naughty nymph.
You slutty stroker.

By the way, I hate Helen Hunt.
Seriously I do.
She has a fivehead, and she divorced Hank Azaria.  What an asshat.
I guess that's my real confession.