Bah, obviously meant date.
We are mates now, but do not speak of “the incident”.
Bah, obviously meant date.
We are mates now, but do not speak of “the incident”.
OK. A mate of mine on a trip back from Uni back in Brighton went to a party on the Waterside at the house of the friend of a mate in the school year above home (they’d left school before you ask).
The mate, good looking, slim and fresh blood was surrounded by young fillies wanting to know about life outside of the environs of God’s own city.
Drink followed drink, said fillies left one by one until the party was over, friend had left and the host and missus went to bed. Two people left, friend of host and mate.
In summary, mate got fucked by a chubster who used him like a sex toy and demanded to known why he didn’t like getting bitten until it bled and why scratching his back like you’d been whipped with a cat-o-nine-tails.
Regardless, mate did the deed rolled off said chubster and passed out. Woke a few hours later by the delicate fog horn snoring of chubster and spent a good half hour getting dressed quietly and getting out of the house without setting off the alarm - still pissed.
Staggered home to Hythe, parents still in bed and no key to get in, mate decides to have a kip on the sunbed in the patio, it being a warm dawn
couple of hours later said parents wakeup, come downstairs and wake up mate. For some reason he couldn’t move and sit up. With a hurculerian effort he sits up to the sound of tearing flesh and indescribable pain - turns out the blood from his scratched back had made a scab with the sunbed
His parents looked at his back, the sunbed, and have never asked why.
So I have been told…
Nice try @saintbletch - My mate tells me it’s only when he gets a good tan.
The sunbed was disposed of as medically contaminated waste…
Has she got a round in yet?
Maybe she heard it as “you’re round” … surprised she didn’t reply …“fuck off you skinny streak of gnats piss”
Continuing my theme for this thread … a tale of two yours
It didn’t involve me directly, but I think it’s a funny tale nonetheless.
About 17 years ago (i remember as Mrs Numpty was pregnant with our eldest) I attended a work reunion drink up in town. The company we all worked for was based in Abingdon, but had relocated and many staff had left, but as a reasonable number lived in Southampton and the main man organising it lived here we had a reunion in town. One of my old colleagues, let’s call him Justin, as that was his name, was due to stay over at mine as he was travelling down from Aylesbury.
Plenty of beers were had and it was good to catch up with the lads. Some went home as the night wore on and there were six of us left in the early hours. The decision was made to go to FYEO, when it was on London Road, so we all paid our tenner and trounced into the titty bar for more beer and an ogle. Spirits were high and Justin caught sight of a couple getting some dances from the ladies on show and was quite taken with the thought of a woman paying another women to strip in front of her. Anyway, we stayed for an hour or so and then said our goodbyes and went off home.
Whilst walking down Wilton Avenue with Justin, he spied the couple he had seen in the club walking iin front of us. He caught up with them and started a conversation. Introductions followed and we were invited back to their place which was just off Wilton Avenue. Now at this point I should describe Justin at this point. He was originally from Barry Island and wasn’t short of confidence, some might say he was gobby. He also hadn’t missed many breakfasts and was the proud owner of a large, 23 stone frame which, that night, had been levered into a purple velvet suit (straight up). Also, he wasn’t blessed with good looks and had the appearance of a pasty Shrek type character. But he was a funny guy and we got on well.
So, we entered the house and our hosts cracked open a bottle of Absinthe. Not having had that before, it was a bit of a shock, but we took to the hopsitality well. Conversation ensued and it turns out the fella was a part time DJ with a superb record and CD collection, which I spent some time looking through. After a while he said “Oh, where are the other two? I think they have gone upstairs?” and left to go up the wooden hill. Knowing my mate was a chancer i thought, oh, oh, I’d better follow on in case there is a ruck, but was pleased to see nothing more than the woman and Justin talking. OK, time for a piss i thought and stumbled into the khazi for a slash. After muddling about in the craphouse, i emerged to walk past the bedroom and was greeted with the sight of the woman we had just met, naked on the bed, with Justin dining eagerly at the Captains Table. The fella was watching, offering encouragement to my mate. Unsure of what i was really seeing, i took a second or two to get this straight. But it was happening and I was beckoned into the room by the fella to join in the fun. Having a pregnant GF at home, i declined his kind offer but was transfixed by what i saw. A fat, ugly, Welshman who made Quasimodo look like Cary Grant, tucking into a strangers muff.
It didn’t stop there. The fella, then drops his strides to reveal what i belive is called a “micropenis” and proceded to play with himself vigorously, while Justin tried to adapt his position for a round of coitus with his new friend, who was voiciferously urging him on. He was now in full swing and had shed some clothes. With the unfortunate sight of his billowing flanks of lard as he attempted intercourse a mere few feet away from my sight, i could hold my laughter in no longer. This was then compounded when the fella with the micropenis siddled up behind Justin and about to try and use my mate a contraceptive. Naturally I fell about the place and had to leave them all to it.
I found him early the next day, sleeping in the porch. He gathered his bag and left swiftly. I have seen him about half a dozen times since and he steadfastly refuses to talk about the situation and whether he earned his receivers wings that night. I’ve no idea about the couple in question, save for walking past them once in town. They may still live there. The fella may even post on this forum. If it’s any of you guys, i’d love to know how the evening ended.
If anybody was on the receiving end of the micro-penis i assume it would have been just in.
I thank you - i’m here all week.
We have a guy called Justin in my pool team (have I mentioned I play in a pool league of a Wednesday evening?)
His team shirt (I know, sad innit) has 2" on the back, it took him ages to work it out.
I wish I had something interesting to contribute to this thread, but sadly all my encounters are pretty lame.
There was a guy who was really into slapping my bum. Like a proper full on, naked, over his knee, slapping session. Which is fine, but it wasn’t doing much for me. That didn’t last.
I’m surprised that you consented to that in the first place…
So reminds me of a stag do I had to organise…
I’ll try and find time at work Sunday to capture the essence of what was possibly the best gag ever on a stag while keeping it in the realms of hilarity that it actually was AND it was PC
Are you in a Pool team Bob? Well. I never knew that. Maybe you could set up a separate thread?
Lou, which one is the sarcasm penis head?
Ya gotta stay open minded BBB!
Nope. Despite my best efforts, I can’t make this one PC enough to publish on the web, and what’s worse it comes out longer than an average Golf Story, so will spare you that.
I’ll save it for IF I manage to get back for a pre-match beer this season.
My mate Wes recently had a disaster of a first date.
He went out with this party from South America who it turns out was on the rebound from an on/off situation with a bloke from Holland.
It all started off okay but as the afternoon wore on it became obvious that it was a match not made in heaven.
Neither of them could agree on much, and the date itself went from bad to worse.
Nothing was organised properly, they kept falling out with each other, and the other party kept muttering about the ex and how it might be better to get back together with him - not that doing that would address the main problem which was in the bedroom.
The two of them had no chemistry, neither seemed keen on getting down to it and apart from one very late half-hearted grope, it was a frustrating and unsatisfactory conclusion to a disastrous first date.
The two of them are meeting again next week to see if they can improve things - we shall see.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the ex is back on the scene then, or maybe my mate and the ex will get it together and the South American will be out in the cold.
Either way it was one to forget.
Leave it to me, Lou - I’ll set you up on a date with Bletch. Not sure if he’ll want to slap your bum, but I can certainly guarantee a disaster.
Given the Weinstein and other allegations, should this be reported to the police as sexual assault - even though it happened over 20 years ago?
Clearly the bloke was very very very drunk but was that an excuse for being taken advantage of in such a way?
Or should he chalk it up to experience?
Asking for a friend…
Unless she was on top all the time it ended up consensual so no need for further action on this count.