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This is a question Gambling

Broke the bank at Las Vegas, or won a packet of smokes for getting your tinkle out in class? Outrageous, heroic or plain stupid bets.

Suggested by SpankyHanky

(, Thu 7 May 2009, 13:04)
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Questions in French
I had very much a hate-hate relationship with my French teacher, Ms Durnoe. Which was a shame. Why? Because she was so incredibly spectacularly hot I felt my cock weep in admiration everytime she'd bend over and expose her downright sexy visible panty line to my eleven-year old eyes.

I was at that age where I was just venturing into my letching, I knew I liked women... but I just wasn't sure why, or what the fuck I was supposed to do if I ever caught one.

I couldn't stand up for most of the lesson. And the desk would just about rise infront of me with the awsome power of my erection. Many times I'd have to shoot off to the bogs just prior to double maths to, well, shoot off.

But she fucking hated me and I hated her. It didn't help when she asked me during my first lesson why I was looking out the window and I said:

"French is a bit shit, innit, Miss?" (That one got me a couple of weeks of detention).

But the clincher was later in the year when my mate Maurice (he was a hard kid - take the piss out of his name and you'd be taking your teeth home in a bag), bet me a bag of chips to ask Ms. Durnoe something.

I wimped out. Maurice resorted to dangerous, Machiavellian mindgames: he started calling me a wimp and jabbing me in the sides with his pencil. So I grew a spine and put my hand up.

"Miss Durnoe," I said. She stopped speaking this weird foreign language thing and looked at me. Now, I really should've known better. I realised what I was going to ask her was probably pretty bad. Maurice was a filthy little sod; I aspired to be as dirty as him one day. But I had no idea what it meant. I was a sweet, innocent little angelic child, desperately trying to be a fully paid up member of the dirty little perv society at our school.

I asked Ms. Durnoe: "Miss - do you gush when you come?"

And my world ended.

The worst part was sitting in the headmaster, Mr Liddington's office, not letting on that I didn't have a fucking clue what I'd just asked. Apparently it was very personal and incredibly filthy.

And it didn't have anything to do with plumming... (well, not the sort I had in mind, anyway)...
(, Thu 7 May 2009, 15:32, 2 replies)
loving your posts again this week sir! the strip triv was a work of genius!
keep it up! *clicks furiously*
(, Thu 7 May 2009, 17:18, closed)
Tanfastic!
This Maurice was quite a talent. I'm not sure I could come up with a dirtier or more intimate question even now. You deserve a click for that alone.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 13:59, closed)

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