A good old fashioned wanking story.
In my second year of university I lived with 3 chaps in an charming end terrace house, in a chav infested section of one of the UK's finest garrison towns.

One of my housemates, who we shall call Karl (for that is what his mother decided on) had the unfortunate disposition of being a total social retard.

This retardation manifested itself in many forms, the total inability to hold a conversation with anyone that did not revolve around BCAFL (the British Collegiate American Football League). Not even the NFL or something, UK universities. The fact that he breathed like a rutting pig. The fact that he used to hang around like a bad smell, bemoaning his boredom as if it were my job to entertain him and most critically to this tale, the complete inability to knock on bedroom doors before entering.

Now it’s only fair to say that this house did not exactly contain 3 studs who used the university experience as a source of constant fresh poontang. 4 chaps who suffered from; ugliness/fatness/shyness and social retardation in various forms are never going to be fighting off the totty with a shitty stick. So much so that as far as I am aware only two ladies were ever bought back for the bumping of the uglies, both were mine and bother were hounds at best.

This lack of vaginal based stimulation meant there was a fair amount of self abuse going on in that house and as such knocking before entering any bedroom was only good manners. Karl did not seem to get this, many a time he would stroll into people’s bedrooms and be told “Jesus Karl I could have been wanking” but it did not stop him.

What did stop him was one fateful night where I had decided a Sherman was in order. I cracked open some internet delights and proceeded to commit poultrycide frantically.
BANG.
In walks Karl.
“Jesus Karl, I’m trying to have a wank” I said calmly. (Honestly I was not embarrassed I was annoyed) Having my back to the door, he could only take my word for it.
“ha-ha, yeah right” he said clearly disregarding my word as he sauntered over to my bed and sat down so he was no perpendicular to me.
What could I do, I sat there, swollen throbbing pecker in hand while my housemate sits there and gets an eyeful.
I look at him and the horror on his face as he realized I wasn’t lying.
“I’m… I’m sorry” he stammered as he scrambled out cringing like the tard he is.
He learned to knock after that.

I'm not appolgising for length, you should have fucking knocked!
(Bam Bam McPenis will change all this when he is fuhrer., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:48, 2 replies)

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So were you the fat one, the ugly one, or the shy one? (from the story I'm guessing not the latter...)
(Milo Minderbinder, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 10:20, closed)

Click
for 'poultrycide'.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 11:21, closed)