You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Nightclubs » Post 401929 | Search
This is a question Nightclubs

Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.

(, Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

« Go Back

We were running late already
Our destination was what our imaginative Student Union had called the 'Friday Night Disco' (or FND).

My then-girlfriend and I had quickly become notorious for turning up late to every party. Tonight was going to be no exception. She liked to get ready in my room as I had a bigger mirror, so I nipped off for a quick shower while she tarted herself up.

She was a first year, I was a finalist. We lived on the same corridor in our hall of residence and I'd been happy to show her the ropes when she first arrived. The "ropes" soon became my rope and we started dating. She had a sweet and naive personality but with my help, she'd also discovered a darker, more adventurous side. We both enjoyed exploring our fantasies whenever the opportunity arose. At Uni, that meant pretty much all the time.

The hot water beat down on my face as I daydreamed about one of our previous whirlwinds of sexual abandon. I shortly realised I was rapidly getting a massive stonk-on. This would never do, I couldn't go out with one in the chamber. It would have been a shame to waste my "one-half-of-Tower-Bridge-letting-a-big-boat-go-through" impression on a simple wank (not to mention bad form to do it in the shared shower) so I rushed downstairs to my room, my obviously-tented towel suggesting to startled corridor mates that I'd taken a rounders bat for a wash.

I dashed into my room, dripping and as horny as Satan but she was too focussed on her makeup to turn round. She'd decided to wear her new black dress which revealed far too much cleavage. This was the first time I'd seen her wearing it. "She looks sensational" I thought to myself.

My boner agreed.

"Pass me the hair straightener" she demanded, with a level of charming arrogance that further activated my mischief gland. Naturally I sidled up and placed something else hair-straightener-shaped in her open palm.

She paused and giggled, which was the green light I was hoping for with barely-concealed joy. "We'll be even later now" she said as I felt her grip tighten. She turned round to face my choice of hair-straightening products with an open and expectorant mouth.

It didn't take long for us to end up on my lumpy, unyielding single bed. I pulled her moistened panties down, slid the black dress up and gently worked myself inside what remains the tightest lady chamber my cock has been fortunate enough to breach. As we grinded and writhed about, I realised I wasn't going to last long in my overwound state. She detected this and pulled her dress down from her shoulders to reveal her sumptuous breasts, a favourite place of hers for me to finish off.

Within seconds of laying eyes upon those jiggling mounds of teenage perfection, I could hold back no longer. I pulled out and acquired my target but devilment got the better of me. At the last second I raised the trajectory slightly ensuring an even spread across her face, neck and chest.

I laughed, luckily she laughed too and I was relieved for the second time in mere seconds. She seemed to enjoy the experience, but I knew I wouldn't get away with my impromptu face painting exercise. "Lick it off, see how you like it" she said, punishing me for my 'appalling aim'. Feeling naughty and not wishing to be the first to back down from a sexual dare, I accepted and managed to quickly mop up what I'd spilled using nothing more than my tongue and a strong gag reflex.*

Impressed by my devotion to her desires, she got up, patted the residue off with a tissue and kissed me. I got dressed and we left to meet our friends.

On the walk to the Union from the halls, she mentioned that she still felt sticky, and it was turning her on. I could tell we would end up finding a dark spot in the Union building to continue the evening's experiments. It put a further spring in my step, although the lingering taste in my mouth reminded me that there are unpleasant consequences to such wanton behaviour.

We made our way inside and ordered a couple of drinks then she clawed a path to the dance floor where we'd agreed to meet our friends. As soon as we'd stepped onto it, she turned around, looking for familiar faces. Her eyes widened as she looked at me. Mine did the same as I stared at her.

Under the UV blacklights of the dancefloor, my beautiful, adventurous girlfriend now resembled a nightmarish, glowing plasterer's radio. She shouted "your mouth and chin is all lit up!". She handed me her pocket mirror from her handbag and indeed, I looked like I'd messily devoured the contents of a glowstick. I passed the mirror back so she could see the damage too. Apparently I'd also managed to get some in her hair and on her forehead, which surprised us both.

A friend staggered into me, already feeling the effects of cheap student refreshments. "Why are you late again, slag!" he shouted at me. I could see his eyes focussing in real-time. As his drunken pupils heroically co-ordinated their efforts and began to align on my face, I stammered "we got side-tracked". He stared at me for the longest time, looked over at my girlfriend and stared at her too. As his brain pieced together the forensic crime scene before him, I grinned at him and he smirked, before bimbling off in the direction of a group who we recognised to be our friends.

I grabbed her arm and said "let's get out of here before he brings the others". Away from the unrelenting glare of the UV lights and to sarcastic cheers from the queue outside the regular toilet, we retreated together into the huge disabled toilet to properly clean up. We spent at least 20 minutes meticulously and lovingly wiping each other down to remove every last trace of my slithering jizzdribbles, giggling like a pair of schoolkids.

No sooner had we finished, she looked into my eyes and gave me a familiar look. Well, we were in a very spacious toilet...


*If you were wondering, yes it tastes fractionally better when it's your own, and it's not mixed with shit...
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 10:57, closed)
ooops !
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 11:31, closed)
That just about sums it up
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:44, closed)
Oh dear! *clicks*
Of course it shows up under UV; haven't you ever watched CSI?
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 11:42, closed)
Actually, no
Is it any good?
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:43, closed)
Expectorant mouth?
There are times when a coughing fit probably isn't what you want...
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 13:44, closed)
Bloody spellchecker
I posted it just before leaving work and didn't have time to proof the spell checker's work.

Edited now. *cough, cough*
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 14:56, closed)
You jizzy minger!
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 19:38, closed)
She loved it though
and so did you
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:42, closed)
this wouldn't be Bradford University Union now would it? Or is FND a nationwide phenomenon?
(, Fri 10 Apr 2009, 20:52, closed)
Uni of the Gods
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:36, closed)
that's just fucking beautiful...

Cheers for the laugh, matey
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:02, closed)
You're welcome
There's lots more like this one, but I usually can't be arsed to post any more. It was only the utter tedium of clock watching for four hours yesterday that finally provoked me to action.
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:42, closed)
You fully deserve your *click*
(, Sun 12 Apr 2009, 0:27, closed)

« Go Back

Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1