Anyway. Inspired by my friend's adventures in cyberspace, I was wondering:
What's the cheeziest, most cringe-inducing thing that someone's ever done to you in an attempt to turn you on?
Alternatively:*
What's the cheeziest, most cringe-inducing thing that you've ever done to someone in an attempt to turn them on?
*cheers, dang!
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: London ]
I didn't like him much, but he certainly liked me. I wondered how far he would go, what I could get him to do for me, for my twisted amusement. One day I said to him "I really like men with shaved legs." Next time I saw him: no leg hair. For some gadawful reason he also decided to wear cycling shorts to demonstrate this to me. Vile. I dumped him in his own dumpster shortly afterwards.
I'm sure I must have more stories, better stories, I will go and have a cigarette and a think.
Unless the question is twisted to:
What's the cheeziest, most cringe-inducing thing that you've ever done to someone in an attempt to turn them on?
In which case, wait till I've had several lunchtime pints. God, we'd be here all night if I got started.
I don't think anyone's ever done anything cheesy to turn me on..
quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:
Awful story
yes, but how big was his danda???
I don't know about his danda dude, I was only 14 and the shine off his lycra cycling shorts was too bright too sneak a peak.
I was with another girl once and she decided to deliver what was meant to be a sexy line, but which went hideously wrong partly because of her wording and partly because of the total lack of conviction. It was I want to use my mouth on you...and I DON'T mean kissing. She was trying to imply oral sex, but of course the line was so flat and unconvincing that I never let her get that far.
Finally, another older woman who had been married prior to meeting me, and had perhaps become ingrained in her bedroom habits during years of familiar activity with the same man. Her "position" was to lie on her back holding her legs wide open and with her mouth gaping as if in a silent scream. I don't know how I ever put up with this. Again, it didn't last long and afterwards I wished I'd never been so stupid as to lower my sights to her.
Anyone who thinks I am being tasteless posting this on a board that my girlfriend frequents can be assured that
1) Modge sometimes does a humorous impression of the third woman
2) She's in hospital now without the internet.
quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:
Y-you didn't like my story? *sinff*I don't know about his danda dude, I was only 14 and the shine off his lycra cycling shorts was too bright too sneak a peak.
Obviously I didn't mean the story was terrible, just the idea of a man in cycling shorts and not on a bike, a car with a garfield in the window and a pug - ug face to match, that's terrible.
quote:
Originally posted by Astromariner:
My first boyfriend and I were having one of those gropey, messy snogs you do at parties before you get older and wiser and realise that such behaviour isn't quite the done thing. Anyway, suddenly he pulls back, gives me this sort of long, soulful gaze, and then starts licking my face, from jawline to forehead. Absolutely ghastly. I had to go and hide in the loo, such was my revulsion and embarassment. I stopped seeing him shortly afterwards, explaining that I just "needed some time for me"
lolol
he was a lovely man, lovely lovely, and i so appreciated the thought! but there are just some moments a relationship can never recover from.
i suppose that isnt really cheesy. its just excruciatingly bad sex.
quote:
Originally posted by mart:
It wasn't Kovacs by any chance, was it?
I don't think so...
Kovacs, did you used to be 6 years older than me and a dustman/bodybuilder called Martin who shaved his leg hair off once for a teen temptress and lived on a council estate in Mottingham?
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: Uber Trick ]
quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:Kovacs, did you used to be 6 years older than me and a dustman/bodybuilder called Martin who shaved his leg hair off once for a teen temptress and lived on a council estate in Mottingham?
Not far off.
*eyes fill with tears*
quote:Yeah, when he called to say did I want to go out again I pretty much wasn't there. In fact I left the country soon after.
Originally posted by ben:
O u c h.*eyes fill with tears*
quote:
Originally posted by kovacs:
Not far off.
Close, but no cigar. Honestly, I've met kovacs and he has a far cuter face than martin of ming.
did he drink in the farmhouse? or the penny-farthing (where incidentally someone was kicked to death in the carpark in february)?
Being a bit older he wanted to be sexperimental so one night he said "Turn around" and blindfolded me with a scarf. Class. "Lie down. You're going to love this..."
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkk! cue hilarious giggling, ripping off of blindfold and instant loss of my hard on. He had decided that it would be arousing to tickle me all over with a squirrel hair brush. A squirrel hair brush?! I ask you. Amazing the things you can get hold of if you work in a paint factory.
tickling during erotic moments = bad
edit to add: he didn't drink in pubs, om, he was too busy hanging around the schools picking up underage girls in his car avec garfield.
edit edit to add: must do work soon...
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: Uber Trick ]
quote:
Originally posted by Meg:
erotic cavity search
lol@meg
‘Yup.’
‘Just me and you.’
‘In this house, yes.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Uh-huh.’
She had a towel on and wet hair. I mean. Towels and hair. I was a teenager. Before we go any further can I just reassure folks that there’s no sex in this story. Nor are there acts committed against free will. And that’s not just me talking. I wouldn’t want you too scared to read on.
She’s there with the towel and the hair and she opens the door to the bedroom. ‘I’m just going to get dressed and do my make-up,’ she said. Or something like that. And then she went and stood in front of my MFI ¾ length mirror with the red plastic frame right next to my bed and she smiled at me and I dropped the duster and wandered after.
Anyway we’re kissing and it’s all a bit teethfight! but that’s excitement for you. She smoked and at the time I didn’t and she tasted terrible, but she moaned and she ONLY HAD A FUCKING TOWEL ON. Man. Her hair was wet, though, and cold like a dog’s nose. Did I mention she’s moaning and writhing? In the words of Eric Lustbader, ‘she pushed her heat against me’. Repeatedly. Like a rabbit with eczema on an E-45 tree. Anyway, for some strange reason I decided to act out the Willem Dafoe schtick. This based on one viewing while stoned. I said something terrible in a cod southern accent and tried to smile dangerously. Lololol. You have to understand this is entirely innocent. I may have brushed her leg, but that’s it. I said something along the lines of:
‘Mm-mm. Daddy likes the looka that!’
She stopped, looked at me funny, got dressed, and suggested we go the pub ‘with other people’. I blushed for, like, a year.
Though, like, it occurs to me that some fellas can cause a gusset explosion merely by moving a wisp of hair off my face, where as with others, the only feeling generated by half an hour of assiduous erogenous zone attention, and dutiful licking is 'just leave my nipples alone, you spastic, and go and have a wank'. Is that bad?
quote:
Originally posted by 69 Comeback Elvis:‘Mm-mm. Daddy likes the looka that!’
lol-a-go-go.
about four years ago i met a girl in a pub in blackheath and we arranged a date for dinner the following week. we went out in town, then, as she was a sarf-east landanah as well, i took her back to my mottingham love-nest (not far from martin, uber!).
i put some tunes on, poured us some wine, and we sat on the sofa flirting and feeling horny. it was all good. we started kissing, and then decided to go upstairs and get busy in bed. we both got nekkid and were beginning to go for it, when she asked me to bend her over and spank her. and tell her she was a 'bad girl' and a 'dirty bitch'.
[you know, each time i relate this tale i feel a little lamer...]
it didn't do anything for me, watching her ass wobble as i spanked her (rather less hard than i think she wanted) and called her the above names with ever-decreasing sincerity.
it's not that i'm against this sort of thing as a rule, i think i just like to be a little more familiar and comfortable with someone before i get into anything too far from the usual expectations.
i mean, if you start with spanking on the first date, six months down the line, you're guaranteed to be wearing one of these
with one of these
up your brownest of holes.
When I was 28 I was seeing this 21 year old for like, two weeks, and I swear, he never cleaned his teeth. He had green mould growing on them. Now thats just cringeworthy. However, what is possibly more cringeworthy is the fact that I kissed the boi with mouldy green teeth.
Shall I stop now? My boss is away and I am bored.
i bet he never cleaned under the lid...
I worry sometimes that I'm actually a bit of a perv.
quote:
Originally posted by omikin:
fuck me, uber, if his teeth were green, what were his knackers like?i bet he never cleaned under the lid...
Luckily, I never went below the undercrackers so I didn't have to find out!
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: Uber Trick ]
Halcyon students days. Or something.
Started as a bit of pub snogging, moved onto club groping and moved on from, there, over the course of a week, to both of us, in his bed, doing lots of snogging, groping, gently moving of bra straps off shoulders type stuff.
Up to this point, fantastically lovely. Nice enough bloke, had even done the candles thing for romanticism of atmosphere. Relative cleanliness of bedding in that it looked like it had been washed in the last 5 months (not bad for a student bloke living with mates). From previous experience knew that he wasn't a tweak nipples like killing aliens on Space Invaders type.
Then he asked me to suck George.
I actually looked round to see who George was. I think I was even half expecting him to indicate some giant stuffed bear or somesuch. I was appalled when I realised he was actually indicating his banal named penis (in that George as a name for a penis is banal, the actual penis was okay as these things go). Sadly, I was also gauche and unconfident and didn't do what any right minded woman would have done, which is hysterical laughter and speedy exit, in whichever order deemed appropriate at the time.
I didn't see 'George' or his owner again. Thank. God.
quote:
Originally posted by omikin:
ben, i seem to remember you saying 'and what the fuck's wrong with that?' when i told you this tale first time round...
Oh you just have to throw yourself into these things, when they happen. Like a drama student pretending to be an acorn growing into a tree. It's not like she asked if she could take a dump on your belly and wipe her arse on your leg.
quote:
Originally posted by omikin:
we both got nekkid and were beginning to go for it, when she asked me to bend her over and spank her. and tell her she was a 'bad girl' and a 'dirty bitch'.
And there was me, just waiting for the right moment to reveal my spanking fantasy......
which would be bound to put you off your stroke.
One memory seeps under the door - this guy, friend of friend, comes on strong at a club, lots of 'let's go back to your place, you won't regret it'... and I thought 'what the hell', needed to get back into the saddle, and was looking forward to a reet raunchy night.
But gracious - he should really have been called Justin. A pee-pee no bigger than my thumb. It was like one of those sausages you get in with baked beans. And he didn't make up for it in finesse or skill with a laydee's delicate flesh. Excruciating. And the embarrassment the next morning. Him: 'I'll call you' (meaning I never want to see you again). Me: 'Yeah, that would be good'. (I know you don't mean it, and anyway if I never see you again it will be too soon)
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
florian cloud de bounvialle armstrong.
Ahhh, a mimsy with pedigree. Superlative.
quote:
Originally posted by omikin:
i once read about someone who, when at the petit mort would cry out, 'mercy mercy uncle percy!'.
my friend alex used to shout 'mum!' and pretend to start crying. but he was joking and none of us liked his girlfriend so anything he did to confuse her was alright by us.
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
my friend alex used to shout 'mum!' and pretend to start crying. but he was joking and none of us liked his girlfriend so anything he did to confuse her was alright by us.
i am so going to do this and pass it off as my own.
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: Gemini ]
'i'd reverse my vasectomy for you.'
i mean, whoa, i bet that got her frothing.
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
i am thinking about calling my mimsy florian cloud de bounvialle armstrong.
Did your mimsy ever do backing vocals for Faithless?

[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: discodamage ]
picture the scene:
omikin, 17, into punk and goth and attired accordingly, in a crap pub-rock covers band (all the other members in their thirties and forties) playing a gig in a pub near thirsk, deepest north yorkshire.
i was not enjoying the gig, but there was a beautiful girl (a couple of years older than me) who seemed to be really getting into it down at the front.
at the halftime break, i saw her pick up her coat and make for the door, so i thought i'd better make my move. i walked after her into the car park in time to see her driving towards the exit in a big jag (should have set off alarm bells, but didn't).
omikin: [wearing misfits tanktop and studded belt etc] 'er, you seemed to really like our stuff tonight' [our stuff? covers? eh?]
her: 'yeah, it was cool, i suppose.'
omikin: 'so, er, have you got a phone number?'
her: 'yeah. and a husband. and two children.'
omikin: 'oh, sorry.'
went back inside, and played the second set of what was to be my last gig with 'this side up'. we used to do a twelve bar blues as the last song, and the singer would introduce the band members and they'd do a little solo (i know, i know). usually i'd just do an improvisation around twelve bar blues, but tonight i was pissed and pissed off. so what did i play?
metallica's master of puppets.
the other band memebers fell silent, and i made an utter tit of myself. they said i might as well not bother coming to rehearsals next week.
thank fuck.
oh, and i always looked out for wedding rings from then on.
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: omikin ]
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: Astromariner ]

One time (a-at band camp?) I was making the beast with two backs with this guy. It was our first time together and things were going just swimmingly.
Suddenly Knock, knock! We had enough time to pull the duvet over us before in walked his brother.
Introductions insued:
"Hallo ******, this is Uber."
"Pleased to meet you." I said and for some reason that seemed appropriate at the time I then held out my hand to shake his brothers hand, as is correct on meeting someone for the first time.
...thing is his brother was still *ahem* inside... if you know what I mean...
quote:
Originally posted by Carter:
Did your mimsy ever do backing vocals for Faithless?
im glad someone got the reference.
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
im glad someone got the reference.
well, answer the fucking question...
quote:
Originally posted by Astromariner:
"You're just so...so...male"
This is making me giggle. In part because I once said "and we fit together so perfectly" whilst I lay with my head resting on his shoulder. In what was undeniably an uncomfortable position. For us both.

For Extra special!
More stories! More! Moody Metallica solos, erotic statements of fact, and peeping front bums win double.
London. Shame on you. Where is your story?

There was the time that some girl more or less dragged my hand up inside her top. Where I encountered what felt like a couple of stress balls in a pillowcase. Not exactly cheesy, and for most folk not exactly cringeworthy either. But I made my excuses and shuffled away.
quote:
Originally posted by 69 Comeback Elvis:
London. Shame on you. Where is your story?
Yeah London, heh heh heh. Whats that about your "friend"... Is that our mutual friend?
quote:
Originally posted by 69 Comeback Elvis:
London. Shame on you. Where is your story?
Dude, I gave you this thread! This awesome thread! I had to go out.
I had to go to work, although I should not, on a Friday. GOD.
I will have a think and give you the stories. Ooh, how about the man in the rugby shirt who, it transpired, had some stocks in his house, and liked to fuck ladies in them, only sometimes the ladies that turned up to meet him were transvestites, so he fucked them in his stocks anyway! As you can imagine, I did not make love with the gentleman in the rugby shirt. He then offered me a job on a dot.com for Lloyds Bank, setting up a community for teenagers! As you can imagine, I did not take the job at the dot.com from the man in the rugby shirt.
Her response was to turn up at my house next time with some frozen cocktails that she hid in the fridge and retrieved when we were in bed. Then she allowed a Margarita to smear its slush over her breasts.
Therefore I recommend my line. She was a game girl.
My temp assignment finished, I moved into permanent work at another company and got married as arranged. However me and frisson dude kept in occasional email contact. A few years passed and my marriage reached its natural conclusion and it transpired that his nuptials had never take place. So we were both single and available.
A date was arranged. I met him outside Mash on Great Portland Street. Three years had not been good to him, his hair was kinda grey, bearing in mind he was only 33 it was a bit of a shock. But still, dinner and drinks - cocktails, then coffee back at mine.
Cocktails blurred the age signs and I decided that I had waited three years to crack this baby so we took the plunge. Moving into the bedroom clothes were removed at speed - that should have been a warning sign for what was to come.
Foreplay? Fore-get it baby! This dude had it in me before I could say "Ribbed for your pleasure or studded for mine?" So he's thrusting away and approximately 6 seconds later (well, its not like I had a stopwatch or anything) he starts grunting and going "Oh, baby, I'm going to come. Pull my hair. Pull my hair!"
Slightly surprised I grabbed what I could of his 1cm crew cut and yanked. 2 seconds later and it was all over.
Rolling off me and looking smug he said "So, was it good for you too?" I blinked at him in surprise. "What baby, you were nearly there weren't you?" I blinked at him twice and raised an eyebrow then reaching down beside the bed I picked up the phone and speed dialled Camberwell Cars.
He was a raging idiot but I was firmly in denial until the day he kissed my stomach and said, "I wuv your yummy-tummy, mummy".
There was this girl. I fancied her for-eeeever and I was young, virginial and horny. I lured her into this bedroom at a party, easy like cos she was a Neds fan and I wanted to see her atomic dustbin.
Much fumbling and pant ripping behaviour later, we are fucking like wild animals. Going at it like its a war. I shoot, I score.
The aftermath.
"So, on a scale of 1 to 10 how was I?"
"Er...."
"I would say for you, an 8. You were an 8"
"Thanks...th...that was my first time..I.."
"Really? You were very good!!"
"Erm...so what are you doing today?"
"Meeting my fiance, and looking for a house. I might get a house if I got pregnant. My fiance can't get me pregnant...but you never know now" *looks at me and pats belly*
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrgh!!!!"
[ 13 September 2003: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
This particular kink has since become something of a whodunit mystery amongst my friends. Everyone who was there can remember the conversation but no one can nail down the culprit. For years I was certain it was my mate (let's call him Bob). Bob has separated from his long term university squeeze and since found himself a new girlfriend. The first time I met her, talk eventually got round to Bob's reputation as something of a deviant, and I put the question to his new lady, "Has he asked you to fill the bag yet?" She was bewildered, but he was too.
I explained, "You, know, when you were going out with Bobalina, you used to get her to poo in a bag and massage you with it."
His response? "I thought that was you."
Now I know turning the tables like that is a classic defensive strategy along the "whoever smelt it dealt it" lines, but soon the whole room had joined in the argument:
"I thought Jim was the poo-bag bloke?"
"No, no no. It's Bill, Bill's the 'Brown Goldfish'."
"Tim suffocates turtles, fact!"
If you were a lawyer and your case rested on witnesses agreeing on just who shit in a bag (it could happen) this would be the point you wished you'd never taken it on. This would be the moment you'd mutter, "Why didn't I take the case of the guy with the wormery in his colon?" and ask for a brief recess.
No two witnesses agreed on who the bagger was. Everyone accused everyone and, alas, Hercule Poirot failed to appear. Shame, I'd have liked that.
"Monsieur Bill, you have a waste disposal unit, do you not?"
[ 16 September 2003: Message edited by: jonesy999 ]
quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:
kiss me jonesy
You're just after the bits of spinach wedged between my gnashers, aren't you? So, I've had a prawn sag, but I've also read your posts in Life, lady. I'm onto you.
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: jonesy999 ]
quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:
I'll risk getting a allergic prawn rash for you baybee
That could be the single most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. Is this thread hot or is this thread hot?
Trying to get back on topic
So, imagine you're Bob the Deviant. He's a bit like Bob the Builder 'cept instead of discussing the durability of clay face bricks with Spud or helping Mr. Dixon with his deliveries, he likes ladies to stroke him with bagged up crap (or does he?).
OK, got it? You're kinky from your afro to your toes.
You're out with a young lady and she takes you back to her place. You're excited, hoping for great things. But how do you slide down the stem of this unsullied young rose and drag her petals into the dirt with you?
BOB: I want to ask you something. I was wondering if there was something you'd always wanted to do in bed but been afraid to ask.
ROSE: Oh no, nothing like that.
BOB: Come on [TWIRLS IMAGINARY
MOUSTACHE]...there must be something."
ROSE: No, nothing I can think of."
BOB: Whatabout...
ROSE: Yes?
BOB: Yes, yes, yes?
ROSE: You were about to say...
BOB: No, you were about to say...
ROSE: No, Bob. You said "whatabout..."
BOB: Damn, yes, I did, yes. I was about to say, "If I said to you, I'll do anything you want, no matter how strange, what would you ask for?"
ROSE: Oh, I couldn't.
BOB: [WANKING IMAGINARY MOUSTACHE] Yes, yes you could, come on, come on. Don't worry, I won't laugh, just tell me.
ROSE: Well...
BOB: Well what?
ROSE: There is...
BOB: Yes, yes, yes?
ROSE: I can't.
BOB: Oh for fuck's...I mean, come on, just tell me. What is it?
ROSE: I've always wanted...
BOB: Yes?
ROSE: Wanted...
BOB: Yes, yes, yes?
ROSE: Someone to...
BOB: Oh God, I think I'm going to come on this old stuffed bear. What? For the love of Christ, What?
ROSE: To...Kiss my neck!
BOB: YES! YE...wha? Kiss your neck?
ROSE: Yes.
BOB: Erm...Do you have Withnail and I on video, I can't afford a cab?
ROSE: I knew you'd think I was weird.
True story.
[ 12 September 2003: Message edited by: jonesy999 ]
You don't have to be shy y'know 'Bob', we're very forgiving of perverts around here.
This happened at university. I went to Exeter, which for those who don't know is absolutely riddled with sloanes, they're everywhere. In fact the main reason I chose to go there was because on the open day for Spanish my fellow candidates were a lovely balance of about 70% female, 20% male, of which from those females about 80% were what we might call, for the sake of argument, 'posh totty'.
Now, it was almost inevitable that a young northern lad like me from the local comp would be impressed, if not overwhelmed, by such an array of... of... people, people quite clearly from a different world. A world based on a campus full of palm trees and woods and verdant lushness.
As Ferris Bueller might say, as he slid into his Ferrari, and I looked upon this sight, there was really nothing I could do.
But this story doesn't concern me. It concerns the male sloanes who were always around, all beige chinos, sockless loafers and pink YSL shirts with cricket jumpers over their shoulders.
Yep, these were the ones that got the chix, with their booming boarding school voices and their GTIs, that incredible confidence oozing from every turned up rugby shirt collar and swagger that makes a chap a chap.
However, there was the occasional sensitive soul among these aliens from another world. One of them was Dino. Dino was in love with Mags. Now Mags (pronounced Maaaaaaags, in a deep, husky voice) was a tip-top lovely girl who was always very keen to discuss things as she rolled one of her rollies, and nodded in that charmingly knowing way about anything you said. "Yah" was bandied about a lot, as well as "oh god, I know...".
But anyway. Maaaaags like to throw dinner parties, and at one such soirée our friend Dino was there. Poor Dino. Terribly, ridiculously posh, square-jawed but with a troubled, sensitive look about him made you think that he might get up at any moment and trek to the Antarctic with his friend Bunty.
Poor Dino. He was in love with Mags, and he was at Mags' house, at her dinner party (along with a friend of mine who later recounted this tale to us), and there was nothing he could do to win her heart.
Poor Dino. He was in such a state. He desperately wanted Mags to love him, to need him, to want him. He was all over the place, his face a knot of self-doubt, tortured admiration and utter love for this paragon of his desire.
He could take it no longer. He threw his napkin down on the table, stood up, in all his glorious six feet of striped blue shirt, and black jeans, and came out with an imploring cry of depseration, his booming yet trembling boarding-school voice ringing across the dinner table and far beyond into the land of legend...
"Damn it, Mags! What's a chap supposed to do, when all he wants to do is kiss a girl?"
quote:
Originally posted by Mart:
In fact the main reason I chose to go there was because on the open day for Spanish my fellow candidates were a lovely balance of about 70% female, 20% male, of which from those females about 80% were what we might call, for the sake of argument, 'posh totty'.
Tell me about the other 10%, Mart. Please.
My friend was at the best new years party of her life. 1989 going into 1990 if I remember correctly. So her really cute boi friend (as in male friend not boyfriend, for our heroine was decidedly single) from college had taken e for the first time. He was rushing like a trooper and she propositioned him but he just looked at her and almost fell off his chair with surprise so she went on the prowl.
Picking up her bottle of wine (white, dry) she walked into the main room. She spotted this cute little 16 year old she had seen around and went up and started chatting to him. Turned out that she knew him through his brother who worked the flower stall in her local town centre where she worked in an underwear shop. So they got to talking and before he knew it they were upstairs in her friends (who was hosting the party) parents bed.
Pulling off the clothes and pulling on the condoms (mates. minty ones apparently, tingly, apparently) they facked, and facked for like a whole five minutes!!! He afterwards admitted to being a virgin and they kissed briefly before he pulled on his clothes and rushed off to tell all his friends.
Picking up her bottle of wine she took a swig and slipped back into her strapless dress and strappy wedged shoes. Stumbling to the door she walked out slap bang into her friend Helens boyfriend. Or ex boyfriend as she was now informed. Bejeezus, but she had fancied this guy for like the entire college term! There was a look then, “Sorry darling, I must pee.” And she tottered off towards the bathroom, wine bottle swinging casually from her hand. Closing the door behind her she found that she had been followed. Much kissing and fumbling ensued but it seemed inappropriate to PIVA so they used the nearest thing to hand: her wine bottle.
Straightening clothes and smoothing down ruffled hair they went back downstairs and into the kitchen. My friend put her bottle of wine down on the counter to light a cigarette. “Hi!” said Helen walking into the kitchen “Don’t mind if I do!” and took a swig from the bottle of wine…
While all this debauchery was ensuing I was busy picking up the cute boi on his first pill and snogging him. It took her 13 years to tell me why she only drinks red now.
quote:
Originally posted by kovacs:
I must be pretty innocent.
I take it you like 'em that way as well, so no problem there.
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quote:
Originally posted by Uber Trick:
(mates. minty ones apparently, tingly, apparently) they facked, and facked for like a whole five minutes!!! He afterwards admitted to being a virgin and they kissed briefly before he pulled on his clothes and rushed off to tell all his friends.
Hey!! This is just the story of me losing my virginity revisited. Thorn, Waynster SG5, I lost it to 'suckerpunch'
########################################
"Innocence lost"
I was 18 and was in Uni... There was a girl I knew from Highschool that I was always afraid to talk to because I wasn't the most confident guy in the world (go figure, huh?)... Anyway, for some reason, we started to get friendly and talked on the phone all the time...
After a party and pretty pickled, I rang her and started the usual "what have you done today" type stuff and all of a sudden I got all 'bravado' and said something like, "Sooo, I only have one class tomorrow, what do you say I skip it and come to your house and see what happens"... Thinking that I would just get turned down and we'd have a laugh over it when I sobered up, imagine my shock when she said ok...
I got to her place about 11am, still thinking that this was going to be a joke, and she answered the door in a robe and nothing else... (now, being an 18 year old virgin, this kinda made me nervous!)
Shaking in my proverbial boots, she pulls me inside and into her bedroom where she has a kingsized water bed (cue bonus points)... So, we get on the bed and I proceed to fiddle with her. Since this was the only thing I had ever done before and was scared shitless, I fiddled with her for about 30 minutes... Finally, she asked if we were going to do IT... At that point, I started shake violently and couldn't speak... What happened next, I can only describe as being raped... She threw me to my back, pulled down my trousers and rode me, bare back... The whole time I just stared up at her with this, "HOLY FUCKING SHIT" look...
After things came to their natural end, we cuddled for about 5 minutes without saying a word... Then, she got up and went into the bathroom to shower... At this point, I stood up, cleaned myself up a bit, got dressed and paced around the room... About 45 secs went by and I slunk out of the house, got in my car and just HAD to tell someone... The problem was, all my friends were in school (they didn't skip to get some nookie)... So, I drove to my local internet provider's since I knew the SysOp quite well having worked for him and relayed the story to him...
I was so embarrassed over my actions, I avoided the girl for over a year and half... Until she cornered me in a bar... She's the only girl I have ever been with that I am still friends with though, so it wasn't a total loss...
###############################################
"Return of Tupac"
Hanging out with my mate Jason had benefits... He was a handsom and charming young black man who had an ability to bed pretty much any woman he wanted... And, by proxy, I could too...
Anyway... I was over his house and we decided to call up one of his 'bitches'. She came over with a friend (see, benefits)... After a bit, we end up in Jason's room and the lights go out... He's on his bed with bitch1 and I'm on the floor/beanbag/futon thingy with bitch2...
Turns out that bitch2 was a virgin (see, benefits) so when she started to 'hear' what was going on with her friend in Jason's bed, she got a bit sheepish so we 'went slow'... Anyhow... After awhile, bitch1 started to make funny noises, then started to talk... Most of which I tried to ignore cuz I had other things going on...
But, then... Bitch1 said, "Oh my god... You're my Tupac" (cuz Jason is black with a shaved head, innit) and I did that sort of sputter-don't-laugh thing... She then said, "OOOOoooooh, I've counted 102 strokes so far"... I couldn't help it, I started laughing, Jason started laughing, bitch1 started laughing, bitch2 started get angry because this probably wasn't how she planned on losing it...
Anyway, mood killed, we kicked the girls out of the house and we spent the rest of night smoking the weed that the girls bought for us and listening to The Roots and Tupac... Laughing...
I lost my virginity at the age of 18. She was 27. It had been on the cards for a couple of weeks, due to the major flirting going on between little insignificant Mart, terribly shy (wouldya believe it) and covered in filth at the potwash station, and sexy Her, older, sophisticated, looking terribly alluring in the red cotton A-line skirt smock thing the waitresses had to wear.
The evening of no return rolled around, and we were left alone in her house...
...
There was some kissing, and then we're up in her attic bedroom, sprawled out over dozens of the red A-line skirt smocks that her housemate made for the restaurant.
We undressed. We did it. Me, I can imagine, with a look of holy wonder as I experienced what "doing it" was all about. Her, I seem to remember, with a wry smile on her face the whole while, enjoying but not rapturing.
Is rapturing a word?
Anyway. The deed is done. She goes downstairs to prepare some more mulled wine (it was Christmas), and a after a few minutes I follow her down. I wait in the front room, and at one point she glides past from the kitchen to somewhere else, pops her head round the door and says:
"Some fast moves you had there."
To this day I haven't been able to work out if she meant I was fast as in too fast, fast as in impressive, or maybe some kind of hybrid... "kid, you were fast, but you weren't bad..."
I guess I'll never know.
A party was thrown by the head waitress of said restaurant. I think I was about 17 or 18. It was in a two-up two-down brick terrace affair in Headingley, and there were lots of people there. So many, in fact (and this seems just ridiculous when I think about it, but it must have been true), that when it came to crashing out, the only place left, from all the possible floor space in the house, for me, my friend and the girl he'd pulled was, inconceivably, in the concrete-floor cellar downstairs.
Now, it was winter. It was a concrete floor. It was cold. All that was to be found to warm us up was a roll of carpet, and with this we had to make do. The three of us lay down and rolled ourselved up inside the carpet.
You can guess what happened next. The two of them started "making out". Rolled up with me in the carpet. Eventually, of course, the two of them started shagging. Rolled up with me in the carpet. I had tried to fall asleep, but there's no way you can fall asleep on a hard concrete floor as your buddy has sex right next to you, rolled up in a carpet.
It became comical. I pretended to be asleep, but he knew that I was awake, and he knew that I knew that he knew. She knew I was awake, and knew that my friend was almost thinking more about me than about her, and I knew that she knew that I was awake... we all knew. All of it. I felt as if I had participated in the whole thing. And so did they.
Morning rolled around, slowly, slowly. We eventually stirred and crawled our way out of the carpet. Quick shake down of the clothes, wash your face in the sink, put your shoes on. Everyone smirking.
And my friend went up to the girl, shook her hand and said "Well, nice to meet you", and we left.
I think I actually fell down laughing when we got outside.
quote:
Originally posted by Samuelnorton:
Forget cheesy. That's fucking seedy, bub.
Says the man who takes out bin-bags to ensure a healthy sex life.
It wasn't like I really liked her that much. She was this crazy girl who seemed to 'fall in love' with anyone who'd give her the time of day. It'd be unfair to say she was a slut, because while she did have sex with a lot of people, she genuinely believed she had something special with every one of them.
So there's me, virginal Ringo, at the tender age of 16. Through school, I'd had to listen to tale after tale of my friends having sex with one another, every time passing me by. You see, this may be a shock to all of you, but I wasn't always the turbo pulling machine I am now. No, quite the opposite in fact. I was the quiet nerdy kid who, while not actively bullied, never realy seemed to fit in with anyone.
So yes, anyway, 16 years old, feeling horny as fuck, like always, and there's this girl who I know fancies me and doesn't take much effort to put out. Well it's a genius situation, except the fact that I really ddin't like her very much. For this reason, I had avoided it for some time, not to mention the stigma associated with sleeping with this particular girl, who had earned herself a certain reputation.
Then something interesting happened. In a late night heart to heart with my best mate, it transpired that he'd recently had sex with her. This justified it somewhat in my eyes. After all, he was hardly going to rip me for something he did as well is he?
Thus it was decided. The very next day I phoned her and invited her to come round after school. My parents both worked until about 6, giving us a couple of hours alone in my house, to do what we will. Sad thing was, I just couldn't go through with it. Well, I couldn't think of any way to initiate it. I was sat at my computer playing Worms while she just kinda sat there feeling slightly bored. Then, finally, I worked up the courage to do something in the only way I knew how.
"You're bored aren't you?"
"Well only slightly but..."
I stopped her mid sentence with a kiss, right on her lips and everything. Luckily she reciprocated in kind and before I knew it, we were rolling around on the floor in the spare room. Moments later there was a trail of clothes into my room where we were both stood naked. I'd never actually seen a girl naked before that point. Not like this anyway. It was an incredibly scary feeling, but I wanted to seem like I knew that I was doing, so down goes my hand, sliding a finger into the folds of her soft pubic hair.
Then it happened. She touched my cock. I would say that she gave me and a hand job but if you go by the old proverb "more than three shakes and it's wanking", it never actually got that far. Bang. Standing there kissing while my jizz slowly rolled down her naked thigh.
I made no excuses. There were none to make. I wasn't going to admit it was the first time I'd ever been in this situation. Luckily, I discovered that my cock has an amazing power to stay hard. Hurrah.
It was a real struggle to get it in. She wasn't helping either. Finally, though, with a bit of a push, it slid in. I was finally having sex. It's fair to say it wasn't all I'd been hoping for. I kept looking at the clock next to my bed as I humped away for aproximately five minutes. Then it was all over.
Lying there entwined, she looked up into my eyes and asked if this meant we were a couple now. I replied to the negative, and went on to say that she should probably leave as my parents were coming home in a bit.
For old times sake, I use this phrase. I think I was a bit insensitive when I told this story originally, but the phrase has become more than a mere meme, to the point where it could almost be described as an urban legend. Anyway, my dick was still in her when I said this.
It's strange now, thinking back, about her. I don't think I ever really gave her a chance. I still see her around from time to time and now she looks gorgeous whenever I see her. I almost wish that one day I could have the chance to give it another go with her, just to prove that I'm not like that any more. I don't think it's likely, though, as our conversational exchange is always limited to mere pleasantries. Shame really, she had an absolutely cracking pair of tits.
Porn Writer
Salary - Shaking, fitting, spitting and getting exited when girls are mentioned. Thats payment enough.
In this role, you will be performing to the high demands of tight *fnar fnar* deadlines and finding work solutions *myerk myerk*
You will need to be able to include any of the following words in assignments without shame; Gash, slit, hairy axe wound, ram-rod, veiny bang stick, luncheon meat truncheon, stench trench and quim.
Reading Max Power and only being able to cum onto ladies thighs, just by looking at them essential.
[ 13 September 2003: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
It'd be unfair to say she was a slut, because while she did have sex with a lot of people, she genuinely believed she had something special with every one of them.
This is one of the most heartbreaking things ever written on the forum. Great posts, Ringo and Mart.
In an email to London yesterday I made a stupid comment to London about male posters hardly ever contributing anything worthwhile to S&R - it's rarely such a pleasure to be proven so wrong.
Cast your minds back about two years or so. Perhaps even more recently, maybe even a year. But you get the idea.
I'm in my current job, doing IT support. I get a call out from a girl who says her computer is having various problems and diligently go to have a look.
I'm initially struck by how attractive this girl is, and also how easy I find it to talk to her as she seems a little nervouse. Perhaps even intimidated. I find this good, as it makes me feel more at ease. SO I turn on a bit of the old Ringo charm, make a few jokes and before you know it, we're emailing each other and going for drinks and shit.
One thing leads to another and we decide to get it on back at my house. She's wearing like this pink padded bra thing, and it's all good. We get down to it, and it's all a bit of a struggle. I get the impression it's a bit painful for her, so I'm going gently and stuff. Anyway, eventually we finish and she falls asleep.
This isn't a good thing as my parents would kill me if they had any idea what I'd been doing. I cetainly couldn't let her spend the night. SO I wait for a few hours, hoping for her to stir out of her slumber, but it doesn't happen. Eventually I wake her up, explain she has to leave, and ring a cab for her.
Great, she goes home and I can finally go to sleep. About 2:30, and on a work night...
I pull back the duvet, preparing to jump in. The horror. There is a large pool of blood in the middle of my white sheets. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
I'm desperate here, I have no idea what the fuck to do. I can't just sleep in the blood, that'd be minging, and I can't put it in the wash or my parents would find out. I know what blood stans are like, and I know I need to act fast. I grab my phone and call my mate john.
"John, mate, you gotta help me"
"Woah, what's the matter"
"I dont' know what the fuck's happened man, but I was shagging this girl and now there's blood everywhere!"
"Shit dude!"
"I know, my parents will kill me, I need to get these stains out!"
"Well.....er....you're going to have to wash them aren't you"
So I grab the sheets off the bed. Luckily it hasn't gone too much into the mattress. I run downstairs and fill the sink with hot water, adding a generous shot of bleach. It scalds my hands, and the sheets have never been the same since. The probem was I was left with wet sheets. There was no way I could put them back on my bed.
So, to cut a long story short, it's like this - my parents found the wet sheets the next day. In my feeble attempts to come up with an excuse for washing my sheets in the middle of the night, I said the only thing I could think of..
"It's a bit embarassing... I.... I had a little accident..."
quote:
Originally posted by ben:
This is one of the most heartbreaking things ever written on the forum. Great posts, Ringo and Mart.
Not everyones got a stallion of righteous missionary by candlelight virgin story though. Muscles rippling in the dim flickering light.
Soft tones of "B..ben, be gentle prince, its m..my first time, you have hands that fell boars"
"Yes, but with all the soft, svelt touchings of sweet sensual pulped paper have made them tender over the years. Yield to my academic embrace"
*swoon*
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
I was sat at my computer playing with my worm while she just kinda sat there feeling slightly bored.
lol.
Ringo, you'd better remove or amend your wonderfully-written and slightly heart-rending (in a bizarre sort of way) post, or poor old Kovacs might well find himself spending the afternoon scraping muck from the walls.
[ 13 September 2003: Message edited by: Samuelnorton ]
I was with my first 'proper' bf at the time - lets call him Bill - and we had been together about a year. He had a sister, who we'll call Gill, and she was a lot older than me and Bill. I always tryed to make an effort to look good or be 'growed-up' when she was around. I wanted to impress her in a way, I was very self-concious and was looking for someone to idolise. I was an only child and was quite lonely.
Anyway, me and Bill were upstairs one morning before school, we were snuggling in bed and getting a bit horny, so we decided to have a bit of a frolic. So there we were in the bed making out, and one thing lead to anotherand we started shagging under the cover of a large duvet (quietly mind you - didn't want evil little brother to come in and see us). Everything was going great, until I heard Gill yelling for Bill out in the hall. Me and Bill attempted to stop our activities hastily but alas, it was too late. Gill opened the door and caught us mid act.
"Bill!" Door opens
"...um...yeah?"
"Are you shagging?!?!"
"...um....no?.."
Gill whips duvet off us "You are you dirty little beasts!!!!"
"...." me and Bill exchange embarrassed questioning looks
The moment was obviously ruined, and I left for school. It was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life - being quite young at this point. I could never look at her after that, and needless to say the relationship ended pretty quickly.
And yes, I did lose the big V at a fairly young age. Regretfully.
My special ladyfriend of the time (let's call her Hildegarde) and I were in bed one night, romancing each other nicely; I'd done my thing with the lighting - the lava lamp bathing us in gentle greens and reds, a couple of candles on the old Wharfedale speakers I use for bedside tables, we'd probably had some wine, and Hildy and I were loving each other in all sorts of nice ways.
She's a top girl is our Hildy, tremendously keen to romp around in bed and enjoy our fun together, and that's precisely what we were doing, enjoying our fun. At one point she disappeared under the duvet and headed south, down there. I pulled the duvet over my head as well as I lay back and let out a moan of satisfaction. It was a perfect moment: a night in with our Hildy, under the duvet keepin' warm from the cold wintry air, and getting the royal treatment from the person I thought, no, knew, was the bestest person in the world.
The waves of pleasure began to flow through me as I lay there and took stock of how ace life can be. This wonderful girl down between my legs, practically entwined in them, and the breeze coming through the window blowing over the duvet.
The breeze made a lovely sound, sort of friendly. It had certainly picked up in the last minute, and I listened to it more carefully; two minutes ago it had been a relatively calm night. Very odd. And the sound seemed to be coming from my left, when the window is on the right, almost as if it was bouncing back off the wardrobe doors.
Very strange. Still, I was being given a wonderful blow job, so not to worry.
But I couldn't stop listening to it, and after a few seconds more decided to lift my head up from under the covers to see what the hell was going on with the world and its strange-sounding breezes.
It wasn't a breeze, of course. It couldn't have been. As I lifted my head out from the warm duvet world I had been cozily inhabiting, and where our Hildy was still busy down below, I entered a world of fire, big flames shooting up around me. The end of the pillow case had come to rest on one of the candles flickering romatically away on the old Wharfedale speaker, and had shot up in flames and begun to spread to the sheet beneath me.
"JESUS CHRIST ON A BIKE!"
The scene that followed was somewhat comical, with me flailing my upper torso around outside the duvet world Hildy was still wrapped up in, oblivious to what was going on in the world of fire, as I tried to put out the raging fire that was in danger of engulfing the whole bed in a few seconds. My lower body began to flail a fair bit as well, wrapping our Hildy up in my legs and frantically whacking the pillow on the floor with one hand while I tried to smother the flames on the sheet with the other.
Only when I'd put it all out, with whispered shouts to myself of "fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck", did our Hildy emerge, to a world of charred pillow cases, a bottle of wine rolling round the floor and the spilled contents of an astray all over the shop.
"What happened?" she asked, her mouth glistening.
"T-there was a f-f-fire," I said, my hands shaking, my left eyebrow slightly singed.
"Mmmmm, that's nice", said our Hildy, grinning saucily.
The minx.
This is the best thread ever! Really!
[delete delete delete : not funny or entertaining]
[ 15 September 2003: Message edited by: vikram ]
Alright Vikram.
I would steer well clear of that Auroville spot if I were you - sounds like something out of a Michel Houellebecq novel.
Anyway this is way off topic
Anyway, one of Hypnotits' tricks involved making the ladies believe their chairs were vibrating "in an exciting way". He'd then put an end to the good vibrations with a click of his fingers and the audience would chortle at the disappointed looks on the various girls' faces. The next stage in this gagathon was to explain to the ladies that a switch on the bottom of their chair could make the lovely rumble return to their seats.
It was during this section of the performance that I first noticed Bev. Actually, I'd noticed her before, she was a very attractive girl, but once the vibrating part of the show began, I couldn't take my eyes off her. All the girls on stage reacted in a suitably entertaining fashion - there were a few "oohs" and "ahs" as a line of contented Cheshire cats enjoyed a purr in their pussies. However, Bev went that little bit further.
She was moaning like a choir of ghosts doing backing vocals for Laurie Anderson's Oh Superman. Her slim legs snaked around a chair leg and she ground herself against the steel tube, wide lips slightly parted and brown eyes closed in private ecstasy. She looked just about to blow when Hypnotits pulled the plug on her rumble pack. If you spend December 25th forcing an eight year old to watch you set fire to Buzz Light-year, Tracy Island and Harry Potter's Hogwarts Castle whilst cheerfully repeating "Christmas is cancelled this year, son", you'll still never see a more disappointed look than the one of Bev's face when her seat stopped shaking.
But that disappointment didn't last long. As soon as Hypnotits threw the on/off switch into the equation Bev's pretty face lit up and she scrabbled frantically beneath her chair like a demented chimp. Her Heath Robinson pole dance resumed with renewed vigour and I swear she'd have cum like a Catherine wheel had she not fallen off her chair. She hit the floor and, click, the eyes opened and she was suddenly aware of what was going on. End of show.
But not the end of Bev. Call me sleazy but, I'm sorry to say, that performance was forever branded onto my mucky, young mind, so it was an exciting moment when, a few days later, I struck up a conversation with the sexy star of the show. It was only exciting for a few seconds, being similar to that scene in The Man With Two Brains (at least I think that's the film), when the buxom beauty opens her buzz-saw mouth and noisily severs all sexual allure from her person with the line "It's my voice, isn't it?"
Bev was a beautiful looking girl but as soon as she opened the claxon where her mouth should have been it was almost impossible to notice. Her Bolton fog horn was sexual anathema, the acoustic equivalent of a cold shower with an old man.
Still, a week later we had sex. I was shallow like that. We had lots of great sex over the next few weeks. The problem was, I was embarrassed to go out anywhere with her because she was so incredibly gobby. God that's horrible but I'm afraid it's the truth.
This post did have something to do with the thread's original bold question; I was just filling in the background details and got carried away. Thank you for staying with me, if you have. So, the morning after the last time we slept together, over breakfast Bev bellowed out a line I will never forget, nor, I suspect, will the other residents of her halls, who were well within ear shot (the same country in Bev's case). I don't know if it was supposed to be a turn on but Bev said,
"Fookin 'ell. You shagged me so hard last night I've got sore flaps and stingee wee. Give us a kiss."
We didn't see much of each other after that. Although she did send me a pome, which I've just read, it includes the line, "She rides the night, his saddle firm."
Yee ha!
[ 22 September 2003: Message edited by: jonesy999 ]
And she could also post up that excellent story about the dog and the kit-kat that formed the basis for her first ever post.
The story that began my SeeMO career
When I was at school, there was this girl - lets call her Jennifer - who made the mistake of trusting her best friend with this story. Jennifer was at home alone one afternoon and was feeling a bit curious (she must have been about 16 at the time.) She got a Kit-Kat and let it melt on her...self. She then called her family dog and got the dog to lick the chocolate off. She did all this in front of a mirror as well, so she could watch. Apparently she enjoyed it. So anyway, Jennifer confided in her best friend, who told a couple of people, who told a couple more people &c. Poor Jennifer's yearbook entry says simply "Have a Break." I've always wondered how she explained it to her parents.
Story 2
So I was at this party with one of my best friends. She started flirting with this guy and progressed to snogging with this guy, and then went outside with this guy. About 5 minutes later she appeared at my side, with this sort of funny look on her face. I asked if she was okay, and she started to half-laugh, half-cry. Turns out that when she had gone outside with the guy, they had been snogging and he had started to stroke her arms and back, before progressing to her breasts. Only it wasn't her breasts but her ribs that he was fondling. He apparently went on for a few minutes - and to begin with she wasn't sure what was going on, but when he started to make nipple-tweaking moments it hit her what he was doing and what he thought he was doing and she had pulled away, made some excuse and walked away. She was half embarrassed and angry that he had thought she was so small busted (she is only an A cup) that her breasts were the size of her ribs, and half amused that he was so inexperienced/
/drunk that he had thought that he was groping her breasts when in fact he was about 5 inches too low.
quote:
Iwillbecuteforever1 : how much is your penis?
kovacs: how much what...price?
Iwillbecuteforever1 : i haven't pic
Iwillbecuteforever1 : yes
kovacs: £10,000
Iwillbecuteforever1 : is it big?
kovacs: you will find out when you pay the price
Iwillbecuteforever1 : ok
kovacs: u have the cash?
Iwillbecuteforever1 : yes
Iwillbecuteforever1 : are you prostitute?
kovacs: no just expensive
Iwillbecuteforever1 : i am a germanchilean
quote:
Iwillbecuteforever1: do you like youngs?
kovacs: what
Iwillbecuteforever1: i am 16 do ou like the young people?
kovacs: no
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you daid yor penis had price for me
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you said your penis had price for me
kovacs: yeah get over it
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you would let me suck your penis for casch?
kovacs: youre too young
Iwillbecuteforever1 : that doesn't metter
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you are the most cute in this room
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you would let me suck your penis for casch?
kovacs: no
Iwillbecuteforever1 : for many cash?
kovacs: fuck off
Iwillbecuteforever1 : for fuck?
Iwillbecuteforever1 : you would fuck me?
kovacs: no
Iwillbecuteforever1 : if you r not gay ,why are follow talking with me?
kovacs: why, are you gay
Iwillbecuteforever1 : no
Iwillbecuteforever1 : i am bi
kovacs: a man?
Iwillbecuteforever1 : yes
kovacs: sick fucker
quote:
Originally posted by Modge:
Neither story is from my own personal experience.The story that began my SeeMO career
When I was at school, there was this girl - lets call her Jennifer - who made the mistake of trusting her best friend with this story. Jennifer was at home alone one afternoon and was feeling a bit curious (she must have been about 16 at the time.) She got a Kit-Kat and let it melt on her...self. She then called her family dog and got the dog to lick the chocolate off. She did all this in front of a mirror as well, so she could watch. Apparently she enjoyed it. So anyway, Jennifer confided in her best friend, who told a couple of people, who told a couple more people &c. Poor Jennifer's yearbook entry says simply "Have a Break." I've always wondered how she explained it to her parents.
Despite her bizarre sexual preferences, this girl must have the most profound insight into the education system, having attended every school in the country for the last 20 years or so. You'd think she'd learn her lesson from the times she'd been caught by the 'suprise birthday party' in the next room, or the boyfriend hiding in the closet.
Anyway, you're acting like it's a familiar story. I've never heard it or anything like it before...and it doesn't really have a decent plot, or twist, like other urban myths.
I vote TRUE.
quote:
Originally posted by Modge:
When I was at school, there was this girl - lets call her Jennifer - who made the mistake of trusting her best friend with this story. Jennifer was at home alone one afternoon and was feeling a bit curious (she must have been about 16 at the time.) She got a Kit-Kat and let it melt on her...self. She then called her family dog and got the dog to lick the chocolate off. She did all this in front of a mirror as well, so she could watch. Apparently she enjoyed it. So anyway, Jennifer confided in her best friend, who told a couple of people, who told a couple more people &c. Poor Jennifer's yearbook entry says simply "Have a Break." I've always wondered how she explained it to her parents.
I had a friend who did similar except with jam. She was in her mid 20s though.
As for not having heard anything like it. I dunno. I've heard a number of variations. The first time I heard it it was some girl who'd won a competition to have Ricki Martin leap out of the closet only to see her with food on her crack and the dog licking it out. And so on.
Thorn's voting: Vicious, potentially life-ruining rumour on the part of the other kids.
I say again that the dog story doesn't have a proper ending or payoff like a real (false) urban myth. Anyway I will ask Modge what evidence she has to corroborate this.
quote:
Originally posted by kovacs:
Modge did say to me yesterday that it sounded like an urban myth...but she also noted she had the yearbook, with the incriminating Kit-kat reference on it, to prove that this girl attended her school.Anyway, you're acting like it's a familiar story. I've never heard it or anything like it before...and it doesn't really have a decent plot, or twist, like other urban myths.
I vote TRUE.
I have like so heard this story before. Natch.
quote:
Originally posted by kovacs:
I say again that the dog story doesn't have a proper ending or payoff like a real (false) urban myth.
Appreciated, but it sounds like something someone made up just to be mean. "Jenny lets her dog lick chocolate out of her c**t". It sounds so much like that in fact. Other than the fact that this rumour became so established, some little shit saw fit to reference it in the year book, there's nothing to suggest that it's true - unless Modge proves me wrong by saying "Oh no, she was completely shameless aboit it and when challenged, openly admitted to it"
[ 15 September 2003: Message edited by: Thorn Davis ]
As for things being done to me, erm. With a couple of exceptions I think my sexual experiences have been overwhelmingly positive. One girl tried to slip her finger in my ass, but I was quick to explain that that wasn't going to feature in our sex-play, so it was kind of an embarrassment avoided. In the (two) cases where things didn't work out, it was more a case of who I was with and why rather than anything they or I actually did.
So unfortunately I find I have little to contribute here over the banal. I didn't even cum that quickly on my first time (certainly, I've beaten that speed record since). My first crack at oral sex was laughably inept but it doesn't seem appropriate to give out details of another forites sex life.
[ 15 September 2003: Message edited by: My Name Is Joe ]
I will go with Modges story, if only because of my own experience (not my own experience with a Kit-Kat mind) it seems there is no end of people who discovered mans best friend will 'do anything for a bit of hairy-lea'
There was a rumour that this girl who lived by us had smeared 'Choosy' on herself in order to get the dog to lick it off. We were amused but over time, decided it had to be an urban myth. One hot summer and a party in full swing, my mate runs over to me with gusto and says "Thats her! Thats the girl from my street. Her sister told me, shes with her now"
I'm desperate to find out about the myth. I wanted to know about the myth. Its got to be a myth I tell myself.
I walked up to the girl and blurt out "aren't you the girl with the Choosy?..... hang on, isn't Choosy cat food?" I prepare to laugh out loud through embarrasment and obvious shame at being so gullible and her sister snappily replied with a look of evil joy "Ha ha ha, our dog will eat anything" Choosy girl looks at the floor, face scorching the already atomic room.
There was a good minute of awkward silence as someone changed the CD's over.
How many people have heard stories about guys fucking their pets?
Teenagers are inordinately susceptible to stories they read and hear. After the teenage bullimia novel Second Star to the Right circulated our secondary school the toilets used to echo to the sound of vomiting fifth formers.
quote:
Originally posted by Louche:
Is it not possible that there's a certain amount of cause and effect occurring? In that urban myth about girl and dog circulates school, girl with dog hears urban myth, girl goes home after illicit Merrydown and Thunderbird swigging on the Rec and tries it out for herself?
I suppose it's possible, but it's far more plausible that the myth is being appropriated in order victimise unpopular students.
Or, am I the only person here who thinks that most people on this planet would actually not want to engage in any type of sexual congress with an animal? Is this such an outrageous standpoint to take?
quote:
Originally posted by Thorn Davis:
Appreciated, but it sounds like something someone made up just to be mean. "Jenny lets her dog lick chocolate out of her c**t".
This may be only a peripheral issue, but... I thought chocolate was toxic to dogs?
Back to the point at hand... I had a female friend when I was a teenager (15 or so) who took some degree of delight in describing some of the sexual escapades she enjoyed with her boyfriends (plural). I wasn't one of them, a fact which didn't please me in the least, but let's set that aside for the moment. One day, she is relaying the latest installment of her sexual saga, and says she had discovered a wonderful new application for these:
From what she said, the Andes candy was placed, er inserted, so it became a bit melty, and then said boyfriend was asked to eat the mint (see: role of dog in the suspected-urban-myth scenario described elsewhere in this thread).
Whether the story be truth or fiction, I have never looked at Andes Creme de Menthe candies the same way since. Fact.
quote:
Originally posted by Louche:
Teenagers are inordinately susceptible to stories they read and hear. After the teenage bullimia novel Second Star to the Right circulated our secondary school the toilets used to echo to the sound of vomiting fifth formers.
I don't think this is comparable at all. Making yourself do a sick has nowhere near the psychological and hygiene fall-out that would no doubt result from having sex with the family dog. I've made myself sick before. I've never even contemplated shagging an animal.
as far as i recall, noone ever accused said boy of fucking a cat in front of us girls. noone ever witnessed him admitting it. but it was nonetheless common and accepted knowledge that he fucked a cat.
im tending towards thorns argument on this one. and its shitty really- i barely knew this guy, but ten years later the only thing i can remember about him is that he fucked a cat. this must be what its like for poor john leslie.
Thorn, I was using that example to show that the susceptibility of teenagers. Surely the example gains more credence when you think that around 70% of the girls who read the book had a bullimic phase, whilst maybe only one went on to smear dog-enticing foodstuffs across their labia.
I'm not spectacularly sure why I am defending this, especially as I stand alone as being one of the few people who didn't actually come across 'the girl who was orally serviced by an alsation' until university. And then it was a shadowy figure from someone else's secondary school past.
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
...it was nonetheless common and accepted knowledge that he fucked a cat.
And unless a hospital visit was involved, it's probably safe to conclude the cat in question had been de-clawed.
But sort of back on topic, Ringo's story sort of reminded me of this. When I was seeing this girl several years ago, I stayed round hers on one saturday night. Her parents were divorced and she lived with her father and a real bitch of a step-mum. Now as the father wanted the step mum and his (3) daughters to get on they could get away with almost anything, so boyfriends sleeping over was allowed.
So there we are, early Sunday morning before my gf has to go to work at the local pub. We start shagging with her on top and just as we're getting there she starts to act like she's on a bucking bronco and is getting a bit rough and a little painful. Ok, I thought, it'll all be over in a minute and maybe I'll be on top next time. Then, just as she's gagging herself (she never could keep quiet) to stop waking her parents up with her shrieks of ecstacy, I feel it.
Fuck! Get off! Were my next words. She rolled off into her little post - coital 'glow' and I pull back the covers to see what the pain was all about. There's blood everywhere and it's still pumping with some ferocity out of my manhood. She now sees he urgency and retrieves tissues to try and stop the flow but it's already gone all over the sheets and duvet. It turns out she'd ripped my foreskin and as I was hard, there was all that blood in there under pressure, which was now all over the bed. To say I felt a little feint would be an understatement. After a few minutes the bleeding has stopped and we're wondering what to do about the sheets. She says 'you'll have to wash them and yourself in the bath' and with that leaves for work.
So cue me peeking out of her room and dashing across the landing to the bathroom with duvet and cover and sheets in my arms, naked except for a pair of boxer shorts which have nearly a whole roll of toilet paper shoved down the front of them. I got in the hot bath - that stung womewhat - and then hand washed the sheets etc. as best I could. Not once, but twice I had to fend off the father knocking at the door and shouting 'Are you ok in there Keef, you've been in there a while...'
The sheets made it to the drier sort of clean and I went on my way nursing my poor todger. I went and saw her at work after that to complain about her just leaving me there in a state of shock which she found absolutely hilarious and insisted on telling her friends at the pub. She didn't find it so funny when she realised I couldn't get a hard on for about two weeks afterwards without it bleeding some more. He he... no KeefLovin™ for her...
Just on a side note, this also happened to a friend of mine when he was on holiday with the sister of the girl from the story above. Maybe it's something to do with her family..
When I was musta-been-abaht 14, a friend and I were walking around the block to see if our mate 'wanted to hang'
We never had to knock on the front door, we would always just walk in the back gate.
One afternoon, we walk in, joking and laughing. Third friend on knees, fingering his dog. Its not a lick out story, but it was there.
There was an 'Erm' and I think it was followed afterwards by an 'Er'
Okay maybe not. As Kovacs said I did say that it sounds like some sordid urban myth, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if the story wasn't true. I mean, it could be... the fact is that the girl in question never admitted it publically, but her best friend swore that she had told her. So I see 3 possibilities:
a) It is a true story that has spread nationwide, but started in my school.
b) The girl told the story to her best friend to impress/amuse her (without having actually done it) and it all went wrong
c) The girl had the worst best friend ever.
The fact remains that the poor girl genuinely has the "Take a Break" comment in her yearbook, and in 65 years when her peers are flicking through the dusty tome they will read that and that will be the thing that they remember her for. I mean, that's just a shame, whatever way you look at it.
I will scan in the yearbook page when next I go to Scotland. Names will be changed to protect the identities of those involved!
quote:
Originally posted by discodamage:
just this weekend my sister and i were talking about someone she went to school with and i asked 'oh, isnt he the one who was caught fucking a cat? [/i]
please tell me his name wasn't darren.
When I've had a bit more sex, I hope to have some stories to share with you. Otherwise, an aquaintance at school lost her virginity on a skateboard on the top of a hill. She then claimed to have sperm rash afterwards. Does such a thing as "sperm rash" actually exist?
quote:
Originally posted by Vogon Poetess:
When I've had a bit more sex
quote:
Originally posted by Vogon Poetess:
Does such a thing as "sperm rash" actually exist?
Click on the lady!
K, a friend of mine, had a huge crush on a girl(lets call her L). To cut a long story short, he nagged me into a kind of double date with her and her brother - the idea being that he would whisk L away when the opportunity arose. I wasn't keen, not being one for blind dates but K was a good friend so I agreed to help him out.
So, the evening arrived, the four of us met up in a pub. I wasn't particularly bowled over by L's brother but he seemed pleasant enough. We chatted away and after about an hour, K sloped off to another bar with L, leaving me alone with her brother.
As soon as it was Just The Two Of Us, the following conversation took place:
HIM: I'm so glad they've gone. There's something I want to ask you.
ME: Oh yeah? What's that then?
HIM: Well, I know it's early days but I quite like you already. So, can I ask you a favour?
ME: Er, ok......
HIM: I was just wondering.....when we end up having sex, could you wear a strap on and do me up the arse?
ME: splutter....koff... hahahahaha...good one.....
HIM: No...I'm being serious.
ME: .........Oh, look - there's my bus. Bye!
quote:TAAAAAAAG!!!
Originally posted by Keef:
I felt a little feint...
quote:
Originally posted by Vogon Poetess:
When I've had a bit more sex
See now, sex is hereditory. Because the chances are if you don't have it, your children aren't gonna have it either, right?
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
Then it happened. She touched my cock. I would say that she gave me and a hand job but if you go by the old proverb "more than three shakes and it's wanking", it never actually got that far. Bang. Standing there kissing while my jizz slowly rolled down her naked thigh.
yep, what Ringo said. But in a great arc up on to her chin. On a first date. There's such a thing as appearing too keen.
quote:
Originally posted by Octavia:
warm liquorice
class.
The bassist leaned over to me at a gig and said in deep husky tones "when you shake yo ass like dat it makes me wanna do you up it".
Cue cringe from me and double cringe from him as he realised my radio mic was still on.
NB. In no way shape or form had I given him any idea that we were dating/shagging/insert form of fuk-buddy here.
On reflection this is a memory I want to forget. Why I chose to share it as my first post, I do not know.
Dick in Vagina?
quote:
Originally posted by New Way Of Decay:
Hey, you're called DiVa. With the caps and everything.Dick in Vagina?
Sadly no. I'd tell you it stands for something equally witty but I'd be lying.
Or something.
quote:
Originally posted by DiVa:
Sadly no. I'd tell you it stands for something equally witty but I'd be lying.
Can you make something smutty up?
quote:
Originally posted by New Way Of Decay:
Can you make something smutty up?
Dive into Vaginal areas.
That do ya?
What? I don't get an erotic fiction novelist prize for that?
Ah well.
[ 16 September 2003: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
quote:
Originally posted by Octavia:
You want to try someone who bites, and mistakes your howls of pain for enthusiastic encouragement.
Oh, Jesus, don't, you just gave me a flashback!
How many times do you need to say to a man, `don't bite!` before he gets the message? Clitori are not for biting 
What else? Oh yes.
A few months back, in the summer, we bought a venus fly trap. But as the only flies that were available were tiny ones that hover around my cactus (rise above it, lads, I mean a plant kind of cactus) and, when they landed on the flytrap's numerous gobs, were'nt heavy enough to make them close, we occasionally caught moths/crayflies/whatever else we could find and dropped them into the flytrap's waiting jaws.
My present partner and me were in the bedroom doing our thang one evening. The conversation that went on during this sexual interlude went something like this:
"Mmm"
"Mmmm"
"Ah"
"Oh"
"Mm- Oh, look! a mosquito!"
Mike looked up and caught it.
"Shall we feed it to the plant?"
"Yeah, go on then!"
He dismounted, and the pair of us ran like a couple of kids to feed our carnivorous flatmate.
Well, we didn't feed it to turn eachother on, but it is rather a silly thing to do in the middle of an amorous interlude.
[ 22 September 2003: Message edited by: Lickapaw ]