» Gambling

An egg too far
Many years ago, on the way home from a night on the sauce, my friend Ollie suggested that, instead of the customary bag of chips, we should go for the three-egg-challenge. That is, for the uninitiated, three Cadbury's Creme Eggs at the same time. And no chomping until they're all in.

So we stop off at the corner shop and I go first, in the misguided hope that this is going to impress our rather cute blonde friend, C. One, two, three, in they go.

"That was easy" I splutter, or rather "thaaawaassshhheezzii".

"Bet you can't do four" Ollie replies, the cock.

Alcohol, lust and chocolate conspire inside me and I accept this ridiculous challenge. To a reticulated python or professional fluffer, it might have been a possibility. I am neither and this is not going to pretty.

"Such a thing has never been done before" says the shopkeeper in his best Apu-impression. But I am undeterred. I shove the fourth one into my gob and stagger triumphantly out of the shop just as the back egg explodes and spluffs a huge load of fondanty goodness down the back of my throat, immediately followed by similar spunkifications from its three fellows

As I leave the shop, a car pulls in alongside me - "Scuse me, mate can you tell me how to get to XXX?".

I lean terrfiyingly into the car. With my horrible, distended mouth, I look like Wallace after an extended session of bukkake and coprophagy.

"Nnneeexxxrrrighpaaaasshhtthepaarrk" I honk, dribbling chocolate between the comely norks of the girl in the passenger seat. They drive off fast.
and I wave them off, cackling like a mong.

No, it didn't impress C. either.
(Fri 8th May 2009, 12:29, More)

» Public Sex

Fuck off, Dog!
So, here we are, on a rug on a hillside, lovely sunny day, myself and the beautiful-but-bonkers gf at the time. Looking down the hill we have a cracking view of a well-known university town. We are cuddling, kissing, her hand goes down south...then her head.

‘Oh goody’ I think – an alfresco blow-job.

There are people on the hill, but mostly coffin-dodgers and kite-flying children. Both sets are a long way away and I am confident, given the expert tounge-lashing that the old chap is currently rec eiving, that matters will be brought to a sticky conclusion before either of them poses a problem.

Then I notice the dog.

About twenty yards away, stupid stick in mouth. Staring at us. With his cocking head on one side.

‘Fuck off, Dog’ I mouth, pathetically gesturing at him to do so.

Inevitably he comes closer. And closer. My partner is unaware of the danger, presumably interpreting my spasmodic thrashings and muffled obscenities for some pre-climactic frenzy. This is awful. Thirty seconds ago, my whole brain was focused on how much I am going to enjoy my imminent spaffing into this lovely young lady’s mouth. Now an increasingly large percentage is taken up with how I can make this furry voyeur go away, and an even larger percentage with how wrong it is to have an erection when looking into the eyes of an animal.

Eventually, feeling horribly horribly dirty I shoot my load. The dog, now practically sitting next to us, looks disappointed – perhaps disapproving. He fucks off, at last, the bastard. My partner, swallows, wipes her mouth, sits up and winks at me roguishly. I feel weak.
(Thu 23rd Apr 2009, 15:51, More)

» I hurt my rude bits

An easy mistake to make...

A few years ago, the nice young lady I was fornicating with asked me if I wanted to change at Baker St*, flip her over and play her B-side etc..

Previous girlfriends had definitely NOT been into such naughtiness and I enthusiastically agreed. "You do have lubricant?" she whispered, "Oh yes." I replied, knowing full well I didn't, at least nothing conventional. No KY, no vaseline, no lemon curd, nothing. So I blundered off to the bathroom, looking for a substitute: Toothpaste? Too minty. Daktarin? Too weird. Massage oil? Bingo! I rushed back, greased myself and her up and commenced arse banditry.

You know where this is going. The massage oil was tea-tree based. After a few seconds I noticed my cock getting warm, which obviously I ignored. Warm turned to hot turned to fucking excruciating and at the point when I felt I was about to burst into flames, I pulled out and ran screaming into the shower.

Rather gallantly, the lady in question waited her turn (her ringpiece must have been agony) whilst I scrubbed and scrubbed and sobbed like a little girl. Then she said "next time I'll bring the lube."

And she did! Happy days.

*ie change from the Hammersmith and City to the Bakerloo line.
(Tue 18th Jul 2006, 10:05, More)

» Cringe!

Gorko, Gorko.
A mate of mine got married, in Russia, to a Russian girl and invited a small number of us out for the festivities. Now, the groom’s family, who we had known for years, are very, very English and spoke no Russian. The bride’s family, who we had never met, are very, very Russian and spoke no English. Each viewed the other with ill-disguised suspicion. They were united only by the even greater suspicion with which they viewed me and the groom’s other disreputable mates.

The ceremony was very beautiful and very moving. At the end, as is traditional, everyone started chanting “Gorko, Gorko”. This is a post-wedding custom, where before anyone can drink, the bride and groom have to kiss, but pretend to be too embarrassed. Gorko means “bitter” as in “life is bitter, the wine is bitter” and you keep chanting it louder and louder until they kiss, and then everyone starts cheering and the drinking begins. That’s how they do it in Russia.

Anyway, standing at the back during the chanting, I decided to shout out “Give her a kiss!” which seemed appropriate enough. Or rather, it would have been appropriate. Unfortunately, my brain short-circuited at the vital moment and instead I bellowed loutishly: “GIVE HER ONE!” Accompanied (why, God, why?) by an equally inappropriate hand gesture.

The English half of the wedding party fell into a shocked silence, and the groom’s dad went bright red. Then my friend helpfully translated my remark, including the gesture, to the bride’s mother and sister, who went even redder. We had met these people half an hour ago and I had now befouled their sacred moment.

Bollocks.

Luckily, we all got apocalyptically pissed not long after and, apart from everyone shouting “give her one” at me for the rest of the weekend, had a pretty good time.
(Mon 1st Dec 2008, 22:22, More)

» My sex misconceptions

You have to get it ALL in
As a boy, my friend Adam was told by his mate (who, having an older brother, was regarded as the oracle on all things sexual) that, if you wanted to do it properly with a lady, you had to "get it ALL in". In other words, the two veg as well as the meat.

Whether or not this important lesson was ever put into practice is unrecorded, but if any unfortunate females in the Essex area in the early nineties did find themselves on the receiving end of the whole package, they now know why.
(Fri 26th Sep 2008, 11:42, More)