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- a member for 20 years, 5 months and 7 days
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- has posted 39 stories and 12 replies on question of the week
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» Losing Your Virginity
I hasten to prefix this with a big NOT ME BUT A FRIEND
a rather portly chap [think John Candy in Uncle Buck]. He was very shy and still a virgin at 22. In university he becomes *friends* with this slightly removed, shy and studious girl. Their dating is bland and pure until one night they go to the infamous Sankey's in Manchester.
This night they throw caution to the wind and decide to test ecstacy [the drug, not the emotion of pleasure - and i add i do not condone their choice].
Having danced in a fury until the wee hours they returned to his place at about 6am. All loved up they decided to offer themselves to each other. What happened next is the stuff of legends;
Her on top, he enters her and starts thrusting away. Unfortunately they both blacked out and the experience was somewhat limited. The next afternoon when he awakes my friend awakes to find the remains of his girlfriends virginity staining his crotch, as well as her fecal matter
Yes, she had shite herself. On top of him. She had done the chivalrous thing and fled. So, covered in a mix of blood, sweat and shite he proceeds to stand up out of bed only to slip in the mess and knock himself out on the bedside table. His appearance in the doorway, shit stained and covered in blood [his and hers now] , I hate to admit provoked only tears of mirth. He recounted the story and by the time we had him washed off and in the emergency room for stitches his story was already enshrined in infamy.
His come down was not pleasant
(Thu 10th Mar 2005, 23:07, More)
I hasten to prefix this with a big NOT ME BUT A FRIEND
a rather portly chap [think John Candy in Uncle Buck]. He was very shy and still a virgin at 22. In university he becomes *friends* with this slightly removed, shy and studious girl. Their dating is bland and pure until one night they go to the infamous Sankey's in Manchester.
This night they throw caution to the wind and decide to test ecstacy [the drug, not the emotion of pleasure - and i add i do not condone their choice].
Having danced in a fury until the wee hours they returned to his place at about 6am. All loved up they decided to offer themselves to each other. What happened next is the stuff of legends;
Her on top, he enters her and starts thrusting away. Unfortunately they both blacked out and the experience was somewhat limited. The next afternoon when he awakes my friend awakes to find the remains of his girlfriends virginity staining his crotch, as well as her fecal matter
Yes, she had shite herself. On top of him. She had done the chivalrous thing and fled. So, covered in a mix of blood, sweat and shite he proceeds to stand up out of bed only to slip in the mess and knock himself out on the bedside table. His appearance in the doorway, shit stained and covered in blood [his and hers now] , I hate to admit provoked only tears of mirth. He recounted the story and by the time we had him washed off and in the emergency room for stitches his story was already enshrined in infamy.
His come down was not pleasant
(Thu 10th Mar 2005, 23:07, More)
» Teenage Parties
What ho chaps
Well, when I was 17 and had just scarpered off from Eton for the last time, I decided to venture out on the Grand tour, what. I popped over the Channel into France and gradually made my way down to Cannes just in time for the film festival There I met up with mumsy and a few other relatives.
At the opening night party a complete riot was had by all, except for the fact that Aunt Dahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by a shark while aquaplaning.
I don't know if you were at Cannes this summer. If you were, you will recall that anybody with any pretensions to being the life and soul of the party was accustomed to attend binges at the Casino in the ordinary evening-wear trouserings topped to the north by a white mess-jacket with brass buttons. I must admit I looked quite splendiferous.
Towards the end of the night, after toadying with all my chums and the notable dignitaries I began to feel amorous. Enter a complete stunner. She was tall, dark and sultry. I studied her in a profound reverie for the best part of two dry Martinis. As a matter of fact, it baffled me how she had not been seduced by my immediately apparent charms. My manly beauty and chiseled physique, my dashing attire and the complete lack of competition at the gathering should have caught her attention instantly. "Ho, she's playing dashed hard to get this one," I recall thinking to myself.
I must admit that by now I had imbibed several cocktails and, as it was quite late, a few snifters of brandy. Even so, I felt confident that her resolve would crumble in my immediate presence and I made to go up to her and engage her in conversation.
As I stood up to leave the table my very stylish jacket buttons caught my glass and tipped the contents over my groin. Unbeknownst to myself, it appeared that I had lost control of my bladder...
However, the dear lady didn't let on to this fact and I spent a good ten minutes talking to her before I caught a glance of myself in the mirror behind the bar (just to check that her attention was on me, don't cha know - not to check my appearance which is usually immaculate. I am not in the least bit vain. Everyone I ask tells me so)
Well, from the instant I saw what it must have looked like to her I turned a bright crimson and my small talk dried up like a prune. I made my excuses and left the party via the kitchens. I was so ashamed I didn't leave my hotel suite until it was time to travel to Monaco a week later!
(Mon 17th Apr 2006, 20:36, More)
What ho chaps
Well, when I was 17 and had just scarpered off from Eton for the last time, I decided to venture out on the Grand tour, what. I popped over the Channel into France and gradually made my way down to Cannes just in time for the film festival There I met up with mumsy and a few other relatives.
At the opening night party a complete riot was had by all, except for the fact that Aunt Dahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by a shark while aquaplaning.
I don't know if you were at Cannes this summer. If you were, you will recall that anybody with any pretensions to being the life and soul of the party was accustomed to attend binges at the Casino in the ordinary evening-wear trouserings topped to the north by a white mess-jacket with brass buttons. I must admit I looked quite splendiferous.
Towards the end of the night, after toadying with all my chums and the notable dignitaries I began to feel amorous. Enter a complete stunner. She was tall, dark and sultry. I studied her in a profound reverie for the best part of two dry Martinis. As a matter of fact, it baffled me how she had not been seduced by my immediately apparent charms. My manly beauty and chiseled physique, my dashing attire and the complete lack of competition at the gathering should have caught her attention instantly. "Ho, she's playing dashed hard to get this one," I recall thinking to myself.
I must admit that by now I had imbibed several cocktails and, as it was quite late, a few snifters of brandy. Even so, I felt confident that her resolve would crumble in my immediate presence and I made to go up to her and engage her in conversation.
As I stood up to leave the table my very stylish jacket buttons caught my glass and tipped the contents over my groin. Unbeknownst to myself, it appeared that I had lost control of my bladder...
However, the dear lady didn't let on to this fact and I spent a good ten minutes talking to her before I caught a glance of myself in the mirror behind the bar (just to check that her attention was on me, don't cha know - not to check my appearance which is usually immaculate. I am not in the least bit vain. Everyone I ask tells me so)
Well, from the instant I saw what it must have looked like to her I turned a bright crimson and my small talk dried up like a prune. I made my excuses and left the party via the kitchens. I was so ashamed I didn't leave my hotel suite until it was time to travel to Monaco a week later!
(Mon 17th Apr 2006, 20:36, More)
» It was a great holiday, but...
deject
walk!
You lazy arse hobo
And we wonder why America won't sign the Kyoto Agreement
(Mon 25th Apr 2005, 5:45, More)
deject
walk!
You lazy arse hobo
And we wonder why America won't sign the Kyoto Agreement
(Mon 25th Apr 2005, 5:45, More)
» The last thing that made me cry
I cry uncontrollably
Every time I orgasm
I am a bloke.
Even prostitutes take the piss
(Tue 19th Apr 2005, 19:31, More)
I cry uncontrollably
Every time I orgasm
I am a bloke.
Even prostitutes take the piss
(Tue 19th Apr 2005, 19:31, More)
» Guilty Pleasures
I sometimes feel guilty
about watching you while you sleep.
(Thu 7th Apr 2005, 15:41, More)
I sometimes feel guilty
about watching you while you sleep.
(Thu 7th Apr 2005, 15:41, More)