A new girlfriend had promised me a bit of downstairs toungue massage.
Unfortunatly i got this message via text at work and being the imaginative man i am thusly got a stonk on.
Not wanting to show any customers my unimpressive buldge i made my excuses and ran to the upstairs toilet to try to coerce the little fellow back into hiding.
Cold water and viciously punching my crotch had no effect so the only way past my predic(k)ament was to have some time with five fingered (h)andria in one of the stalls.
As i reached the vinigar strokes the toilet door opened and one of my co workers loudly shouted my name , i quickly turned my noise of orgasmic pleasure into retching noises whilst using a bunch of toilet paper to catch the mess.
They let me go home early and told me to look after myself.
Later that evening the nice lady undid my trousers and got to work, rougly three seconds into the act she took something out of her mouth at looked at it puzzelingly.
A whole section of toilet paper was now in her hand.
Thusly ends my tale and that relationship for that matter.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Fri 18 Feb 2011, 1:59, 1 reply)

Like the ending....
... an extra twist over the routine "I was caught" tales.
( Ugi , it's a game of give and cake, Fri 18 Feb 2011, 10:26, closed)