I hurt my rude bits
Spent all day with a sore bum, went to the loo to check it out and found blood in my pants. Not good. Piles? Checked in the shower and pulled a staple from my arse. Serves me right for leaving an old pencil case in my underwear drawer. BTW: On relating this story to a friend they said, "some people will do anything for a prick up their bottom."
( , Thu 13 Jul 2006, 22:00)
Spent all day with a sore bum, went to the loo to check it out and found blood in my pants. Not good. Piles? Checked in the shower and pulled a staple from my arse. Serves me right for leaving an old pencil case in my underwear drawer. BTW: On relating this story to a friend they said, "some people will do anything for a prick up their bottom."
( , Thu 13 Jul 2006, 22:00)
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An easy mistake to make...
A few years ago, the nice young lady I was fornicating with asked me if I wanted to change at Baker St*, flip her over and play her B-side etc..
Previous girlfriends had definitely NOT been into such naughtiness and I enthusiastically agreed. "You do have lubricant?" she whispered, "Oh yes." I replied, knowing full well I didn't, at least nothing conventional. No KY, no vaseline, no lemon curd, nothing. So I blundered off to the bathroom, looking for a substitute: Toothpaste? Too minty. Daktarin? Too weird. Massage oil? Bingo! I rushed back, greased myself and her up and commenced arse banditry.
You know where this is going. The massage oil was tea-tree based. After a few seconds I noticed my cock getting warm, which obviously I ignored. Warm turned to hot turned to fucking excruciating and at the point when I felt I was about to burst into flames, I pulled out and ran screaming into the shower.
Rather gallantly, the lady in question waited her turn (her ringpiece must have been agony) whilst I scrubbed and scrubbed and sobbed like a little girl. Then she said "next time I'll bring the lube."
And she did! Happy days.
*ie change from the Hammersmith and City to the Bakerloo line.
( , Tue 18 Jul 2006, 10:05, Reply)
A few years ago, the nice young lady I was fornicating with asked me if I wanted to change at Baker St*, flip her over and play her B-side etc..
Previous girlfriends had definitely NOT been into such naughtiness and I enthusiastically agreed. "You do have lubricant?" she whispered, "Oh yes." I replied, knowing full well I didn't, at least nothing conventional. No KY, no vaseline, no lemon curd, nothing. So I blundered off to the bathroom, looking for a substitute: Toothpaste? Too minty. Daktarin? Too weird. Massage oil? Bingo! I rushed back, greased myself and her up and commenced arse banditry.
You know where this is going. The massage oil was tea-tree based. After a few seconds I noticed my cock getting warm, which obviously I ignored. Warm turned to hot turned to fucking excruciating and at the point when I felt I was about to burst into flames, I pulled out and ran screaming into the shower.
Rather gallantly, the lady in question waited her turn (her ringpiece must have been agony) whilst I scrubbed and scrubbed and sobbed like a little girl. Then she said "next time I'll bring the lube."
And she did! Happy days.
*ie change from the Hammersmith and City to the Bakerloo line.
( , Tue 18 Jul 2006, 10:05, Reply)
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