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confession

Penthouse confession letters have always been a secret indulgence of mine. Ever since the very first time I found my father’s dirty magazine, I’ve read that special section in the book. I will admit sometimes I looked at the triple X rated pictures. That was how I learned to dress like an escort. All those women look so sexy, and I would try out what they were doing and wearing. One ad led me straight to trashy.com for all the secret clothing that now fills my closet.


The first night I found this dirty magazine I was babysitting my younger brother, and bored. He was asleep, and as a normal teen would, I snooped in my parent’s bedroom. That’s also the first night I found sex toys. My mother owned a toy box full of them. Laying across my parent’s bed, I flipped the pages and stopped on the confession section. It was the first time I was in awe of the written word. The more I read, the hotter my cheek became. Was I getting turned on from being on their bed, or the magazine?

Confession section of a penthouse magazine

Looking around the room, my hand slipped down the front of my panties, and I massaged my young bald pussy. Scared to slip a finger in, it felt my tiny cunt was tugging the tip on my finger. My body wanted me to finger fuck myself, but I was a virgin. I remember that I thought the day you lost your virginity, your parents could tell. Silly little girls think the dumbest things. Confession is good for the soul, right?

As I read, I noticed something. One of the letters came from my hometown, and it had the nickname I gave my father as the writer. Oh god, was daddy writing things for this smut magazines confession section? It talked about how he wanted to fuck his teasing daughter, and that he knew she wanted him, but she was a preteen. I was a preteen. Daddy wanted to fuck me, and guess what? Ask me about what happened later that night.