Blow Job, Interrupted
Aged 14, first girlfriend (feisty little minx as it turned out), in a local park after dark, totally empty except for us.

After some snogging and general awkward teenage fumbling, she breathily says 'Do you want to get more comfortable?'
'Holy shit!' I'm thinking, 'This is it, this is it!'
'Er, yeah?' I manage to mumble feebly. Smooth.

As it was, 'getting more comfortable' meant sticking my coat on the ground and lying on the cold hard concrete, but whatever, there's a good chance I might actually go from virgin nerd to the king of all sex here and it could be on the top of a monkey puzzle tree for all I care.

So there we are on the ground, the fumbling progressing to hitherto uncharted territory, when she asks, quite coolly, if I'd like a blow job. That'll be a blow job. A. Blow. Job. And would I like one? Me? Blow job.

In the 2 nanoseconds it took me to answer in the affirmative, I'd already got my kecks off, my mind racing, my heart pounding. 'Just wait till the lads at school hear about this,' I think, 'I'll be a hero!'

She's edging agonisingly closer to my old chap and I'm just about beside myself with anticipation and excitement at this stage (to be fair though, my helmet might well have actually exploded had she managed to make gob-to-bell contact).

Then, just at the point where my little man was about to know his first tongue bath, there's a shout from out of the darkness. A loud, angry shout. And then another and another. And some barking. Loud, angry, police dog-type barking. Oh bollocks. Oh shitty bollocks, what's this?

Turns out there had been a spate of break-ins in the houses that backed on to the park, and as it hadn't been quite as dark when we got there as I'd previously imagined, someone had spotted some shadowy figures lurking about suspiciously and called the rozzers. The icing on the cake was the fucking police helicopter lighting the place up with its power-of-a-million-suns beam, searing my soul like a teenager mortification ray.

There was to be no blow job. We broke up shortly afterwards and I still remained a virgin nerd several years later. Rasclart.
(Crayola Oblongata Is it Monday?, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 14:50, 2 replies)

bloody pigs

have a click
(The Cats Twat, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 20:48, closed)

Clicked...
Power-of-a-million-suns... genius!
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 11:48, closed)