Apart from with myself...
The worst sex I (almost) ever had was with a rather nervous girl who, as I found out the hard way, suffered from a condition called 'Vaginitis'. Or 'fridgedness' as I prefer to call it.

So, after several weeks and god knows how many hundred pounds worth of dating, we eventually make it into bed together.

The foreplay went great, if it had got any more slippery down there we would have had Torvil and Dean recreating their Olympic winning ice dance to Bolero on my crusty bed sheets right before our very eyes.

So, tactfully as ever, I slide gently on top of her and started desperately trying to pop Percy in the pothole.

But to no avail! Her little hairy honey pot had clamped itself so tightly together that you would have needed a couple of burly firemen with an engine full of car-cutting equipment to prise the bloody thing open!

Needless to say, she was rather embarrassed and I was very understanding. At least, until she fell asleep at which point I went to the loo to knock one out in order to relieve the tension.

Only to return to my bedroom to find my Dad on the landing, staring rather pot-faced at my still erect member.

Sorry for the length. Something that, at least, she can never say!
( NotDavidBailey isn't all that sure that he is?, Sun 17 Jun 2007, 20:21, Reply)