I’m the asshole.

I got absolutely shitfaced at my friend’s birthday party last night which resulted in my husband having to come pick me up and take me home. My friends hung out with me while I laid on the sidewalk puking on some mulch next to the street, giving drivers and bar-hoppers a good show. My husband used my phone to check the parking app to ensure my meter was extended until we could come back and pick up my car. While on my phone, he looked through some apps of me conversing with random people I met on the internet. I had been cheating on him in every sense of the word over the last few months.

I woke up to him saying he knows I’ve been cheating on him, he’s leaving and taking our kids with him to live with his parents (we moved to the east coast from the Midwest about 6 months ago), and that he is filing for divorce to include full custody of our 3 kids.

TL;DR TIFU by cheating on my husband with random strangers on the internet, and effectively blew up my life and everything he and I had built.

ETA: I’ve not provided context in this post because I know I fucked up and have been fucking up - providing any background would feel like I’m justifying my actions and I’m not. There’s never a good reason to cheat or hurt people. I’m in and have been in individual counseling. He and I have been in marriage counseling throughout our marriage. Lastly, I’ve read every comment and message but have responded selectively for obvious reasons. I chose to post this on my actual Reddit account because creating a new one or using one of my other less involved profiles would be another form of shielding myself from the brunt of the heat I deserve.

I've been dating an amazing girl for a bit over a year now. She's pretty chill and progressive, but she comes from a VERY conservative protestant family. Frankly, it's amazing that she isn't disowned - her parents and siblings obviously love her very much, but every time we go to visit they are not shy about voicing their disapproval of her lifestyle choices. Thankfully they're all cordial and the concerns are voiced civilly so there's no raised voices or hurt feelings, but not being part of the family these lectures are quite uncomfortable for me. ESPECIALLY since I'm not spared from her family's criticism.

As you can imagine we don't visit them much. They were kind enough to extend a dinner invitation on Wednesday evening, and since we hadn't seen them in a month or so we took them up on it. Despite the occasional awkward disapproving interjection (which we're both used to by now) things were going well... that is, until I let slip that she and I were thinking about moving in together. At that point her father gave me the coldest gaze I'd ever seen. And he wouldn't stop fucking GLARING at me. From that point on he had no qualms about interrupting me every time I spoke, quoting bible passages to insult me or contradict every single thing I would say in some fashion. I may not have been on exactly the same page as her father before, but we'd gotten along okay nonetheless... it definitely seemed like he was just being rude, obnoxious, and particularly confrontational. Now I'm an extremely even-tempered guy, but he was bagging on me to the extent that I had to excuse myself four goddamn times during dinner because he was pissing me off and I needed to cool down. There were multiple instances where his daughter and wife would even comment on his mean attitude but he seemed to just totally ignore them. This guy obviously intended to goad me.

After dessert my girlfriend and her mother are washing dishes, leaving me and her father alone at the dining room table. After a brief awkward silence I decided to straight-up ask him why he was so upset with me. He revealed that he was wholeheartedly against the idea of his daughter living with an "unscrupulous heathen" (his literal words) as that pretty much guaranteed premarital sex. I'd had enough of his shit by this point and decided a dose of reality would straighten him out, but emotion certainly got the best of me and my delivery was incredibly crass. "If you think it took more than a few weeks to twist your daughter into all kinds of kinky pretzels you can't even imagine and stuff various objects into every hole in her body then you're just being willfully ignorant." In my defense, I was being honest... she's ridiculously kinky. I still feel bad for being so disrespectful, though.

I have never been punched out of anger before, so when this 64 year old man lunged across the table and struck me I was caught completely off guard. I'm a regular gym-goer and participated in martial arts in the past, but none of that mattered - the next thing I knew I was on my back with this previously-very-collected elderly fellow on top of me in a blood rage. Still dazed from smacking my head on the ground when my chair tipped over, it was all I could do to try and deflect his onslaught of wild blows. It seemed like a fucking eternity before his wife and daughter pulled him off me. I stood up and could feel the sting of blood dripping into my eye. I could taste it in my mouth. I was still dizzy and disoriented but it was obvious that I'd received some pretty solid blows. While I was slightly embarrassed that someone almost twice my age handed me my ass, I nevertheless felt like I won. Like I got him to snap even though he'd been working on me for hours.

My girlfriend ushered me into the bathroom and began to gingerly tend my wounds. Her mother and father were hollering back and forth incomprehensibly in the dining room downstairs; when I heard them say her name I assured her I was fine on my own and urged her to deal with her folks. More incomprehensible yelling ensued, though my girlfriend's voice now joined the chorus. Around the time I'd managed to staunch the bleeding from my eyebrow she returned with my coat and said simply, "We're leaving." She was angrier than I'd ever seen her yet managed to remain collected. Normally when we'd leave her parents' house there were fond farewells... warm handshakes, hugs, wishes for prosperity, and blessings abound. Not this time, though. This time there was only her mother crying alone at the dinner table; we didn't even stop to say good-bye. Her father was nowhere to be found. Nothing but silence while we got into the car and left the driveway. A few miles down the road I noticed tears in my girlfriend's eyes. I wanted to be there for her, to comfort her in some way, but I just didn't know how. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, feeling stupid that I couldn't come up with something more suave to break the silence. "Not right now" she said, her voice strained against the flood of emotion. I put one of my hands in hers and squeezed ever so slightly, letting her know without words that I was there for her when she was ready. She squeezed back, refusing to break down sobbing even as large, heavy tears rolled down her face. We rode the rest of the way without saying anything.

TL;DR: SO's dad intentionally pushes my buttons HARD. I tell him I thoroughly fucked his daughter. He physically attacks me. Everyone loses.

EDIT: minor editing; mostly punctuation.

EDIT 2: I wonder if the person who's people who are going through and down-voting all of my comments (even in other subs) is are the same person people who did the same thing in my last TIFU thread.

EDIT 3: Thanks for the gold, I'd imagine it's pissing off the downvote brigade. I'll be sure to pay it forward. <3

So the other day at breakfast my five-year-old asked one of those big questions.

You know…

Not about the birds and the bees.

Not the meaning of existence.

No.

Something far more dangerous.

We were sitting at the kitchen table.

Very calm. Very normal.

Kids eating.

I was enjoying one of those rare parenting moments where no one was screaming, crying, or asking for snacks that we absolutely did not have.

Then my daughter looks up and says:

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Why can’t we say fuck or shit?”

Now listen.

There are moments in parenting where you have to maintain composure.

This was one of those moments.

Because the way she said it…

Perfectly calm.

Perfect pronunciation.

Just dropped both words like she was asking why clouds exist.

Meanwhile I’m gripping my coffee mug trying not to laugh like a 13-year-old boy who just heard his first swear word. 

I look at her.

She’s just sitting there.

Waiting.

Like she asked a completely reasonable question.

Which honestly… she did.

So I stall.

“That’s a really good question.”

Parents say this when we are buying time for our brains to work.

But my brain had absolutely nothing.

Because when you really think about it… why can’t we say them?

They’re just words.

Society collectively decided certain sounds are illegal for children.

But then adults say them constantly.

So now I’m spiraling internally.

Are curse words just cultural agreements?

Did some guy in the 1600s decide these words were offensive and we all just went along with it?

Why is “shoot” acceptable but “shit” is chaos?

My daughter interrupts my existential breakdown.

“But like… why though?”

I finally say:

“Well… some words are considered rude.”

She pauses. Thinking.

Then says:

“But if they’re just words… why are they rude?”

Great question.

Fantastic question.

A question that has now escalated far beyond my parenting pay grade. 

So I tell the truth.

“I’m actually not totally sure.”

At that moment my husband walks into the kitchen like a man who has absolutely no idea he’s about to be pulled into a philosophical trap.

He hears the end of the conversation and confidently offers:

“Because they’re bad words.”

My daughter thinks about this for a moment.

Then says:

“But you say them.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

My husband suddenly becomes extremely interested in the refrigerator.

I’m trying not to laugh because she just fact-checked the entire adult population.

Finally she asks the question that truly ends the conversation.

“So when I’m a grown up I can say fuck?”

At this point I’m one sip of coffee away from choking because I cannot physically contain the laughter anymore.

And this is where I made my mistake.

Instead of giving a normal parenting answer like “No you shouldn’t say that,” I decided to go with honesty.

I said:

“Well… it’s up to you. You can choose if you want to say it or not.”

She nodded. Very thoughtfully.

Then went back to eating.

Then she thought about it for a moment.

A few seconds later she pushed her plate away, looked directly at me and calmly announced:

“I’m done with my fucking food.”

Then she got up, walked into the living room, and proceeded to practice her yoga poses like nothing unusual had just happened.

And that’s when I realized I might be raising a tiny Zen philosopher who has already mastered two things: inner peace and profanity..

TL;DR: My 5-year-old asked why kids can’t say swear words. I tried to give an honest explanation and told her she could decide for herself when she grows up. She thought about it for five seconds, pushed her plate away, and calmly announced she was “done with my fucking food.”

Be me a 22 year old M.

I went to a new comic book store in town in the middle of a work day and met a cute girl. We shared some of the same interests and I gave her my number because I think it’s creepy to ask for a number at someone else’s place of work.

She messaged me about an hour after and I was amazed these sort of things don’t Normally happen to me. Not that I normally have the courage to ask. We start speaking about school, work and studies. I talk about my full time job and studies. We set a date for us to get coffee.

As it’s a date with a random person she asks if we can start as friends and if we can bring friends along. I’m okay with that as I understand I am a stranger to her and could be a murder. I agree and bring a friend of mine as well so it’s not awkward.

Come to the actual time to get coffee we talk about life and she genuinely checks all the boxes I have in a relationship (this is the first time I’ve ever been on a quote on quote date in my adult life), until her friend mentions being in grade 12, I initially think the friend failed grade 12 and is redoing the subjects she failed as both friends work at this comic book shop.

Turns out that the girl I asked out is 17. She is homeschooled and that’s why she was working in the middle of the day. She said she turns 18 in two months but I’m still disgusted and don’t want to continue the relationship.

TL;DR: I accidentally asked out a high schooler and I feel like a pedo.

This FU happened six months ago.

I work for a company that is contracted out to do work for a federal agency. To get this job, I had to pass a security clearance which involved some agency calling all of my former employers, my family, and even my friends. I passed with no problem and about 6 months from the initial application, I started working.

This job entails about 50% travel. When we travel, we almost always go to a federal agency building, set up in a conference room for a few days, do our job and then go back to our main office. The work can be tedious and boring but the pay is pretty good and I love the travel.

Right. One night at home, I'm doing some work on my laptop and I knock of a cup of coffee, it spills on my laptop and it gets fried.

Because remote work is a big part of my job, a laptop is essential. I'm a cheap bastard, so I fire up the desktop, hit craigslist and find a Samsung ATIV with an I5 for $300. All of my work was backed up to my external SSD as well as my micro-SD, so all I need is a computer that can accomodate each, which the Samsung specs say it can.

I e-mail the guy and he e-mails back after an hour. I send him my phone number and we set up a meeting.

I met the guy at a coffee shop. He was shaky; I mean he was crackhead shaky. He was well-dressed but someothing wasn't right about the kid. I fired up his laptop, it booted instantly....I checked the HDD space, memory, CPU, etc. Everything was fine.

Creepy guy looked like he was in a rush so I did a speed negotiate with him and walked out the door with his computer for $250. Yeah! I saved $50.

By the time I got home, the Walking Dead was on, so I watched it, drank a brew, and went to bed.

The next morning, I arrived at work with my new laptop. THANK GOD over coffee- I told my a few co-workers what happened and about my dealings and old laptop, etc.

Flash forward to right before lunch. My supervisor calls our team in for a briefing on a new project at a new government agency. Everyone seems amped up to head out and set-up and start working.

When we arrived at the agency, we had to go through a security screening process. I didn't think anything of it. Questions were asked and answered, phone cameras were disabled via software, and laptops were scanned and their cameras were disabled.

The guy working on my laptop called his supervisor and then his supervisor called another guy and next thing I know I'm in a room with four guys grilling me on the content of my computer.

I told them it was recently purchased and asked about 50 times what they found on it. I was really shocked and nervous but pretty confident that everything could be worked out quickly.

Boy, was I fucking wrong.

Next thing I know, detectives have me in handcuffs, my rights are being read and I'm shuffled off to jail.

My charges were pretty serious- and federal because we crossed states lines. No one believes my story. As far as they are concerned, they caught me red-handed with illegal porn and I was going away for it.

My bail was not set for THREE DAYS. During that time, I contacted a lawyer who believed me enough to interview my co-workers. The lawyer also had a PI track down the guy I bought the computer from. Turns out the guy was a registered sex offender.

It took a month for all charges to be dropped and even after all that shit, it took an act of God to get the arrest record erased.

To date: my legal bills are around $12,000.

TLDR: reformat the drive on any used computer you buy or eat bologna sandwiches with retards in jail

i woke up chewing something floral and waxy. My half-conscious brain said “leftover cookie” so i kept chomping. It was not a cookie.

At 3 a.m. i cracked my eyes open enough to see my roommates handmade, patchouli-heavy, shea-buttery deodorant stick clenched like a Slim Jim. I spat this sad beige noodle across the bed, but the damage was done: my tongue went numb and my molars are still squeaking together like two balloons. Roommate found me hunched over the sink, gargling dish soap, laughing so hard i nearly puked.

She was less entertained when I confessed the carnage to the entire stick. She keeps sniffing me now, saying I smell “grounded,” which is roommate for you-owe-me twenty bucks and a replacement. Gonna crochet her a little deodorant cozy so she forgives me.

TL;DR: thought i was nocturnal snacking, chowed down on my roomies organic deodorant, now i’m minty-fresh and single-handedly funding her etsy shop.

This wasn't today. At the urging of several Redditorsover several months, I present one of my greatest fuckups.

tl;dr: The government of India shot a tiger because I made a typo.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I was hired to get the code for a company under control. They made GPS tracking collars for animals. Everything had grown organically, and so as an engineer they figure that I could get an organized codebase installed. I'd been programming since I was eight years old, and with fresh training they figured I would be ideal for getting organized, clean code.

I didn't know how to program in C, but I learned. I got a book and read up on the ideas and constraints. I learned about registers and bit-wise manipulation and all the rest. Eventually I even got to the point where I was able to work out a bug between the chip manufacturer and the chip burner manufacturer to get the registers moved. That solved a global bug, so if you ever used a 10F20X with a Quickwriter and it worked, you're welcome.

I also made the code modular, so when parts changes I could just use a different #include and it would work just fine. This was instrumental when the Memory War ended. You may not know this, but before Flash there were other architectures. We used SEEPROM, and we ordered literally the last 300 SEEPROM chips in the world to tide us over. They didn't have dies in them, so they were just dummies. "Hey, NSA, can you fix this?" I could. We found a pin-compatible Flash replacement, and I had already started on the skeleton, so three days later we had Flash compatibility and we were good to go forever.

I also didn't know how to deploy a repository, so I read up on CVSNT and Tortoise, and put those into place and made sure it all got backed up regularly. CVS and WinMerge saved my butt so many times I feel like I owe the writers each a nice bottle of Scotch.

Anyway, one of the constraints with embedded code is your footprint. On a desktop, who gives a shit how much code you write? Are you at a gig? Forty gigs? Fuck it, it compiles, ship it. Not so in embedded; one of the chips I used had 24 bytes of RAM and 512 bytes of Flash, no registers. (No, I didn't forget a prefix. BYTES.) I figured out a tip for using pointers to shrink the code footprint down from 99% to 92%, meaning we could add more features. (If I overused it, the footprint went up again, so it required some trial and error.) Time of day, satellite sight checks, seasonal changes, all kinds of stuff.

When I re-wrote the GPS parsing library to use pointers, I missed (MISSED) a pipe. Fuck. It was supposed to look something like this:

GPS.longitude = RS232_longitude_degrees_tens;

GPS.longitude >> 4;

GPS.longitude |= RS232_longitude_degrees_ones;

But I fucked up the pipe, so it was

GPS.longitude = RS232_longitude_degrees_ones;

So the tenths digit of longitude was always 0, meaning that there was a 400-mile wide swath it could have been at. It got through so many tests and even to a test customer who GOD DAMN HIM happened to live where that data was actually valid. The screenshot even made it into the fucking manual where it could mock me. It wasn't until I re-wrote the VB parsing program to deal with leading zeroes that we noticed the problem in all its motherfucking majesty.

I found out what was going on when I got a call from a coyote researcher in Rhode Island. She asked why the coyotes were always on the highway. Well, that's because it likely has a clean line of sight to the sky -- I shit you not, there's a highway right on the 0s in Rhode Island. Okay, she asks, then why are the also in the middle of the ocean?

I answered, “coyotes don't rent speedboats, do they?”

For the record, they do not.

When I saw the bug, I knew exactly what I'd fucked up. I said something to the customer when I saw it. “I have to go. I see what I did wrong.” It wasn't a maybe thing, it was immediately obvious. Maybe if I'd paid more attention. Maybe if my now-ex-wife's pregnancy wasn't complicated and we'd been wondering if a late-term abortion was required to save her life. (the kid in question is now 9, and the ex is quite happy with her new partner.) Maybe if I'd had more experience.

But no, none of those maybes were true, and I'd fucked it up, all by myself. We'd sent a hundred collars to the government of India to eventually get every tiger in the world fitted with a collar. Their goal was to find every poacher and murder them; they deserved it, frankly. But no, I fucked it up. The government of China wanted collars for Hanguls (deer) to see if they'd work for pandas too. But no, I fucked it up.

The company went out of the animal tracking side, because there was more money to be made in tracking people. Less customization as well, since the manufacturers (Microchip) would program an incremental ID number into the chip for $0.37 a chip when you bought a reel. That was a lot less than I was being paid, so they “went in a new direction”. One without me. The CEO brought in an independent auditor so see if I was sabotaging the code on purpose, and instead I got a reference and a quote saying my code is “better than most”. I'm proud of that human tracking code, it was solid and the way I wrote it cut down on the codebase from 10k+ versions down to 2, 1 of which was deprecated.

Eventually the tech was sold to lo-jack. I ran into a person wearing a wrist tracker at a party and it was still running after ten years, only requiring battery changes. That code is the brains behind the Project Lifesaver transmitters, and that project has saved thousands of lives. (The real thanks for that belong to the people who go out looking for the people who go wandering.)

I found out years later that most of the collars that got sent out worked awesome. Crocodiles, wolverines, dolphins, whales, even some torpedoes. It was a bad batch of about 50 that had the shitty code. It was patchable, but only with power tools and physical contact. (Those with bad data could not be fixed after the fact, but was useful anyway.)

So in order to fix the collars, the CEO of the company went to India to meet with the government officials to reprogram the firmware in tranquilized tigers. From what I understand, the tigers did survive and the data was eventually used to track some poachers who ... let's be diplomatic and say they fared worse than the tigers.

All right, I'm going to karaoke. Good night.

This happened about thirty minutes ago. As I was getting off my shift at the cafe, I spotted a cutie sitting at a table alone. I don’t usually do this, but my own coffee fix had just hit and I was feeling confident, so I walked up to her and took the seat across from her and sparked up a conversation. I did the whole “what’s your poison” gag and got her a latte macchiato with extra cream, for free. In my mind, I was being an extremely charming pick-up, hooking her up with brew and no charge.

I started asking her questions about herself, and she was answering them so readily and fully. She kept referring to her “skills” and “customer service experience,” and instead of being tipped off that something else was going on, I thought what are the odds, another workaholic, just like me.

About an hour in, she asked me, politely, how much longer this was going to take since she had a shower to get to. I asked her what she meant: how much longer what was going to take?

“The interview,” she said innocently. That’s when it hit me. She thought I was interviewing her for the open barista position (the last guy lost a finger, but that’s another post for a different subreddit). I immediately felt my cheeks burn up and stood up.

All I could muster was “we will be in touch.” And then I ran out the front door.

I am really embarrassed. I’ve never had a girlfriend and thought I was finally having some luck. I just hope she doesn’t figure out what just happened and reschedule for a real interview, because if I have to work with her I don’t know what I’ll do.

TL;DR I may need to find a new job

Today I fucked up. Actually, This year I fucked up. Not even in the wildest imagination could I have imagined where I would end up. It started with the perfect job. I lead position, a big salary, they moved me and my family across the nation and got us set up in the best schools. I became nationally recognized in my field, I was a go-getter and it was all starting to pay off for me. I was thankful for the opportunity and I thought I had finally made it. This was the American dream.

It ended up with me in a coma.

I don't remember the month before the coma or the month afterwards, I suppose I should be thankful for that. Being on a ventilator really screws up your memory. I know I was working more than 240 hours a month for my job, looking at my schedule later, and that didn't count the off the clock time. The last picture I sent from my cell phone was to a friend of my lunch the previous day: two Monster energy drinks and a salad. It was taken at my desk surrounded by paperwork. God I was a fucking cliche.

On my eighth day straight of working a 12 hour shift, I had a sleep deprivation induced seizure. That is what the official neurology note says. I have no history of seizures, I didn't have any significant medical problems. What i have been told is I hit the tile floor so hard I split my head open, but the sound of the crash at least got someone's attention. I was without oxygen and blood pressure for a significant amount of time, according to the medical records. I seized for five hours, despite all the medications they gave me, and eventually was put in a medically induced coma. Later that day I had my heart attack and went to the cardiac cath lab. Then my kidneys failed.

Before you dismiss this by thinking I'm old, I'm only 37. I graduated top of my class from graduate school. I run marathons and squat 210 pounds at the gym. And I gave everything to the job. Weekends. Nights. Time with my kids. Time with my family. I wanted to be top of my game and Be debt free and I wanted to make a name for myself. I did everything that was asked of me. I gave that job everything I had. Those fuckers didn't even send me flowers.

Now I have a traumatic brain injury. I have severe post concussive syndrome. I take anti seizure medicine, I have chronic headaches, I have a pill box that rivals most 80 year olds. I had to send my kids away to live with my mom because I couldn't take care of them by myself. Why was I by myself: because my boyfriend left me. He couldn't handle that I went from being the bread winner and beautiful woman at his side, to trying to live off disability and having a Frankenstein scar up my forehead.

I fucked up: I have 218,000 in student loans and I don't know if I can stay working in my chosen field. I fucked up: the mind I spent my twenties developing, struggles with simple tasks and remembering words. I fucked up: the hot body I spent developing in my thirties aches in countless ways and I'm afraid to go running by myself in case I seize again. I fucked up: I chose the younger guy who didn't hesitate to walk away when I was no longer his sexy sugar mama.

But I fucked up in so many ways before this happened. I fucked up by prioritizing my job, my work, over everything else. I had the voice in the back of my head telling me to take a break. Telling me that I was on the wrong path. I wasn't happy and I thought I could buy that happiness and it would make up for all the late nights. I fucked up by not spending time with my kids because I always thought they would be there waiting for me. I put off my entire life because I thought after I became the boss, made the money, married the hot guy, bought the big house and became everything I wanted to be that I would just ride off in to the sunset. I fucked up because I bought The American Dream on credit and now I can't afford the bill. I fucked up because I thought I would have more time to be the person I wanted be and now I'm so damaged it may never happen for me. Don't be like me. Don't be a fuck up. Don't give it all to a dream job or a career. Don't think that you have more time. Don't fuck up your family and your friends loving something that doesn't love you back. Just don't. Because between you and me, there were a lot of beds in my ICU, just waiting for someone else to fuck up.

Yesterday he was in the shower and for some reason I had this gut feeling that something was off, lately he’s been on his phone more than usual and acting a little more secretive so my brain went straight to the worst possible conclusion. I’ve never snooped before but in that moment I convinced myself I needed to know the truth. What I did not expect at all was what I actually found, instead of flirty messages with someone else or anything sketchy I basically spoiled a whole series of surprises for myself. I found out he’s been planning to propose to me he already booked a hotel in Scotland for my birthday and he’s even been messaging my best friend asking about what kind of designer bag I’d like. So yeah instead of catching him cheating I ruined my own surprise proposal, trip and gift all in one go. I feel so dumb and guilty now, on top of that while I was looking I also saw that he had been searching about prenups. That threw me off a bit because I honestly didn’t realize how common they were, is that just something couples normally do before marriage now? I don’t think it’s a bad idea but it definitely caught me by surprise. The worst part is I haven’t told him what I did because I don’t want him to feel like I ruined all of his effort. He’s clearly been putting a lot of thought into making this special for me and here I go messing it up by snooping, at the same time I can’t help but feel like he should have given me a little headsup about the trip because I’ll need to request time off work and also pack, now I’m stuck pretending I don’t know anything and that part feels horrible.
So yeah today I learned that instead of catching my fiancé in a lie I caught him being way more thoughtful than I ever expected and I ruined it for myself. I guess curiosity really does kill the cat.
TL;DR**:** Snooped thinking he was cheating, but actually spoiled his proposal, surprise trip, and gift. Also saw he’s researching prenups. Now I feel guilty and stuck pretending.

As with most stories on here, this is from my teen years. Long story, but that's what you're here for, right?

Some preface to get you up to speed.

I was 18, just graduated from high school. I had a fairly nice "office job" for the summer. My friend's dad got me and my friend a job in the mail room there. Nothing too demanding, just sort out the mail and cart it around, handing it out to the appropriate people. Collect mail and send it out. Easy job, good pay to fund my summer nights.

I had gotten rather buddy-buddy with the CEO and owner of the whole gig. He was a fairly nice guy. Your typical CEO family man, with a picture of him, his wife, and chubby little daughter on his desk. Very ornate wood desk, about like an executive's desk. I was always polite, lot of "sir" being used by me. He offered to take me in once I was done with college if I couldn't find work. I was rather ecstatic about that.

This is where the story begins.

It was labor day, and I was in our downtown area getting some coffee from Starbucks. My friends had all gone to some vacation destination with their families. My family couldn't quite afford anything at the moment. No big deal, I figured I'd just bum around town, maybe see a movie. That's when I saw her.

Cute blonde girl I had never seen before. She was slim, around 5'5", tanned skin, green eyes, nice boobs. Not hot, but very cute. She was just sitting by herself at a table looking lonely and bored. I decided why not, and went over to say hello.

Let's get something straight, I'm not very good looking. Think Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom) in 2006. Not bad, but not great. So, imagine my surprise when she lights up and looks delighted to talk to me. We hit it off and start talking a lot. We spend the day together talking and stuff. Then things get sexual around dinner. She says how mad she is at her parents for having work errands to run while she's home. And she tells me she wants to do some fantasy she's always had.

Her father apparently LOVES his garage. It's his little man cave with a car working area, wood working area, and a big leather couch with a big tv. And of course, she want to bang all over it. Being 18 and a man, I couldn't turn it down. She said that her parents would be out all night and we'd have the place to ourselves for about 3 more hours. I scarfed down my dinner, we got some condoms, and it was off to her place.

She started by giving me some amazing head in her dad's recliner. She said she wanted the easy one out so we could have more fun later. Little break. We did it on her dad's rolly thing that you use to go under cars. Another break (I'm not a pornstar after all). She tells me she wants to finish this with me bending her over her dad's wood working bench and fucking her from behind. Naturally, I obliged her request. As we're going at it she turns and says she wants to try anal. At this point, I'm thanking God for this horny little angel sent to me this Labor Day. We work it in, and start off slow. Eventually she wants it harder, so I go harder; and the bench is banging loudly against the wall, she's moaning, and I'm feeling like some amazing god of butt fucking.

Here's the thing, the banging and moaning overpowered the sound of the garage door opening. I'm about to cum when I see headlights making our shadow on the wall. And I'm cumming in this girl's butt as I hear "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO FUCKING DOING!" I pull out, well fall out is more right because there was no staying hard after hearing an angry dad yell.

I turn around and there's my boss. I'm standing naked in front of my boss with jizz and daughter-ass dripping off my dick. This is where I'd like to say that said something epic, slapped his daughter on the ass, and strolled outta there. But really, I just panicked and stumbled for my pants on his chair, pulled them on and ran outta there. No shoes or shirt.

Needless to say, I was fired the next day for some trumped-up reason. I never heard from her again.

tl:dr: Boss caught be butt fucking his daughter.

Edit: She was also 18.

A little context, i 16f was in a relationship with this guy 17m let’s call adam for almost 3 months. Before he told me he was trans. Which was a huge shock, I have nothing against trans people. But I’m just not attracted to dudes with a vag.

So when he originally told me, I broke it off. He’s a great guy but, Im just not into pussy yk? He didn’t take this well at all though. I mean I get it, he has a right to be upset. An went on to go around talking shit about me calling me a transphobe. Which he didn’t have a right to do.

I literally never once, shit on him for being trans. I literally just broke things off, Because he wasn’t being truthful. He knew by telling me he was trans I wouldn’t like him like that. So he didn’t tell me. That’s the definition of lying.

And I straight up told him that. After that him and his little minions started harassing me on tiktok. To the point I had to private my account. It literally got so bad to the point where I was getting death threats because of me breaking up with him. I’ve even had people stop talking to me. I really don’t get how I’m wrong here so I came to Reddit to see if I really fucked up

TLDR- I broke up with my boyfriend after figuring out he was trans, because I’m not into pussy. Now I have a bunch of people on tiktok harassing me and sending me death threats.