Secret Sunday: Episode 2

Good Day, my little Humpty Dumpties.

If you have wandered here from ICLW - you have arrived in time for a virtual share fest of disgusting secrets.  By all means, read on (and join us next week!) but in the event you would like to kick off our friendship with something other than who I've shown my boobs to or my bloggy friends' brilliant solution to anal sex, I have made this tab over here just for you to point you in the direction of different posts.

I am approaching Day 2 of ICLW and I don't think I have gotten a related comment. Why, ICLW? I am delightful, damnit!

Enough.

It is a tad early this week as I am putting this together Saturday night (if you missed Silly Saturday - it is here.)  Nonetheless, line up for the confessional and pray for an impotent priest, it's Secret Sunday.

I'll start us off.

My husband let a family of five see my boobs.

We were married 6 years ago, this very Secret Sunday.  Two days after the wedding, we went on our honeymoon to beautiful Kauai, Hawaii.  We stayed at a lovely condo-like resort and did it every which way you can imagine (and on a beach in the rain, no less).

Weeks before we had bought a book about all the things to see on Kauai.  We rented a banana yellow jeep to navigate the island, and a few days into our trip we headed for one of the go-to places, Secret Beach.

To get to Secret Beach, you take some windy roads to a very small parking lot.  Obviously since it's being written about in books, it's not so secret...But to get there you have to hike a good 15-20 minutes downhill on a fairly unmarked path through a forest, and since you're unable to see the actual beach before you arrive there, you have to have faith it'll be worth the hike back up.  Considering this is a small island we're talking about and therefor surrounded in beaches, you have to be seriously jonesing for some privacy to commit.

When we arrived in the parking lot I was wearing just a sundress - not exactly hiking clothes and definitely not a swimsuit.  I did, however, have a change of clothes.  We also had a ton of towels in the car, and since we were so secluded, I just used them to improvise a changing room.  Our car was pulled up right against the forest - front bumper to woods.  I had just enough towels to cover the back and side windows, and figured the front window would be safe.  Bubba would stand guard outside to alert me to intruders.

Something to know about Bub:  he does not speak up.

A family of five - two parents, two teenage boys and a kid, came hiking up out of the forest.  Then for some G-dforsaken reason, instead of walking in the spacious enough parking lot behind me, they tripped through the awkward space in front of my car practically leaning on the hood.  Bub, apparently, just stood and watched unsure of what to say.

As they do this, I am topless.  We all freeze.  Time loses all meaning.  I have enough time to not only make eye contact with each of them, but to see fully into their souls.  If they had immediately met a sketch artist, they could have described all freckles and moles in their precise measurements and color.

Yes, folks, on my honeymoon five people aside from my husband saw me naked.  And he didn't even have the sense to charge.

And now, the delicious secrets of others:

From an Anonymouse:

When I was in high school, I had a Latin teacher that seemed to like putting hands on or arms around girls while walking around the class. No one ever seemed too concerned until one day I found out he had an affair with one of my friends. To this day everyone still wonders while I grunt every time his name is mentioned.

From an Anonymoose:

I had a friend in college who used to have a thing for masturbating with strange things.  She only told me about it because she had tried masturbating with an old fashioned coke bottle, and it didn't have it's cap on, so somehow from suction it got stuck.  I had to take her to the er so they could carefully break it/get it out.

From Kate at Infertile Firstmom:

When I was 14 and my dear sister (now my best friend) was 18, in a

moment of sheer angsty teenaged jealousy (I guess, I don't really

remember my motives), I threw a FULLY LOADED hotdog at her 2 minutes

before she was to leave the house for her Baccalaureate service.

For those not familiar with this particular milestone in the parochial

school system, the Baccalaureate is a religious service held on the

Sunday before high school commencement day... a pretty big day for

graduating seniors.

Oh, and (fancy new) white dresses are required for all the girls.

So yeah. It was messy. She still brings it up to this day.

From Erinvns:

I dressed my beagle as a dragon last Halloween and it was a Martha stewart costume and im not ashamed! She went trick or treating with my 2 year old nephew (also a dragon) and I thought she was cuter.

From an Anonysquirrel:

I learned about cervical mucus not because of TTC but because of the shot.  I was on it in my early twenties, and it was supposed to stop bleeding altogether but instead I just bled with no warning, whenever.  And when balls of mucus started coming out sometimes, I asked my doctor about it and she explained that it was cervical mucus.  So the first time I slept with a new guy, I was rolling over to get on top of him, and a GIANT bloody ball of cervical mucus came out and fell on his stomach.  Needless to say, he flipped out.  A few weeks later he stopped calling and I always wondered if it was because of CM.

From the Anal Hooker:

I am somewhat of an anal sex hooker. Purely for my husband of course. Allow me to explain. I hate anal sex, he loves it. I have since realized that I can barter rear-loving to get things I want. It started with a half hour foot massage as payment for any anal action and has since progressed to much bigger and better things. I’ve had him clean out our “junk room”, re-organise the garage, come to parties and family functions I know he will hate and much much more. I continue to whinge and carry on about how much I hate it because I know he will keep doing more stuff to get it. Sometimes if I want something really bad I will even think “I know how I can get this…….”

From EmHart:

The naughtiest place I ever had *whisper it* S. E. X. was in the props warehouse when I was at drama school. I was having a wild fling with my leading man, as you do, and we just snuck off there one day because we couldn't contain ourselves any longer. We had just rehearsed a particularly emotionally charged scene from 'Measure for Measure' and I think we were supposed to be going on to a jazz class or some other arty farty drivel. Sod that, we thought, and instead we went and made, to quote the bard, 'the beast with two backs' on a dusty old chaise long behind a collection of six foot lolly-pops and a fake fireplace, with a large donkey mask from 'the Dream' looking down on us. Man, drama school was fun. Do you ever wish you could go on holiday to a moment from your past? I would go there. I am still friends with him actually and he came to my wedding, so not all mad flings end in disaster. 

From lo:

I shave my face sometimes.

(I am a fuzzy person.)

Oh so many important lessons to be learned in the Church of Secrets.  Oh. So. Many.

If you are instantly regretting chickening out this week or you have stumbled across this for the first time, I have made a lovely little tab just for Secret Sunday.

Do we have a favorite?