Hen Night
Some years ago the cousin of ex-Mr.Chickenlady got married and I went along to her hen night.

The 'night' was in fact an entire weekend of debauchery in Cambridge (if getting debauched is possible in Cambridge).
I drove up with another friend (Vicki) who is coincidentally a six foot stunning blonde who does a bit of modelling in her spare time....

Now the three of us - Vicki, myself and Polly the 'Hen' have a little bit of history as we spent the night sharing a bed on my hen night...so it's safe to say we're very close.

In light of this closeness Vicki and I decided to stop off at a local 'adult' shop in order to purchase some toys for the weekend of fun.

The shop we went into wasn't either a family friendly Ann Summers or a squeaky clean bright lights and chrome job as you sometimes get (there's a nice one like that in central London) but rather this was a down-at-the-heel, skanky carpet, dodgy customers and nasty smells place. And it was right next to a pet shop, coincidence? I don't think so.

Anyway, in walk myself and Vicki, we spend some time browsing the shelves - both of us nonchalant and behaving as if this was simply the local branch of TopShop (remember this was before Ann Summers appeared on every High Street). Eventually we choose a variety of fun items which we know our Hen will enjoy....

That evening the party is in full swing in Browns in Cambridge....many banana daiquiris have been downed and we have reached the slightly raucous stage.

Now is the time to give our Hen her main 'gift'......A set of 'love eggs' (google it). Everyone laughs and they are passed around the table...then of course the dare is made that she tries them out....
She and I disappear off to the ladies to deal with this task. I was going to ensure she did the deed....

For those of you who are not aware of 'love eggs' they are a pair of small balls about the size of ping-pong balls, joined together with a cord and both have weights which move inside. The idea is that the (female) owner inserts them and they supposedly stimulate the owner as she walks around and carries out her daily tasks.

So, Polly (the Hen) goes into the toilet cubicle (how many of you were hoping or expecting me to accompany her???) and tells me she's doing the deed.
A few moments later she comes out of the loo and we both return to the table giggling.

Everyone asks if the balls work and Polly just giggles a great deal and drinks more....

Half an hour later I nip off to the loo for a pee and discover a huge queue for the ladies - a common occurrence. While standing waiting I overhear a couple of members of staff moaning about the loos.....one of them is out of order.....some bloody idiot tried to flush some plastic balls down them.....

I return to the table (after having a pee, of course) and blurt out to everyone what Polly has done.

As a penalty for not completing her dare we made her remove her knickers there and then, gave them to the very bemused but grateful waiter, and she spent the remainder of the evening knickerless...

And yes...there was flashing on the way home.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:09, 10 replies)

I know the porn shop.
Mitchums corner - a very salubrious part of town. The bloke behind the counter is a scottish bloke with thick child molester glasses. He's really paranoid, you've just reminded me of another dare story.
(Vic Flange, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:17, closed)

I
only go to the very best places ;)
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:22, closed)

hahaha
come on, we have a strip joint now, and im sure debauchery would be the least of your worries in some of the colleges!

ps, friend got grot from that shop once, he swears it had a sticky carpet (blurrrgh)
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:37, closed)

Try the one on the Elizabeth Way Roundabout.
Theres a fat bird who follows you about to make sure you dont nick anything. Tell you what she must loose them so many sales, she's got a face like a slatelayers nailbag and is really ardour dampening.
(Vic Flange, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:40, closed)

To be honest
had I been the waiter and was handed a used pair of knickers by some random woman I wouldn't have been grateful, I would have been rather skeeved out.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 2 Nov 2007, 12:14, closed)

Me too
Maybe he was....but just put on a brave face!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 12:45, closed)

trench coats...
yes mitchums corner - a friend of mine lives above the opticians next door - it's quite amusing to watch the weirdos in their trench coats pull up in the layby outside for their quality dvds!

However what's more interesting is all the 'normal' ppl looking ppl go in - those without serial killer glasses and trench coats...
(twiceydrinker hmmm is it pint time?, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 14:10, closed)

There's a couple I know of
One on Oxford street just by the Ann Summers, and one in Tottenham Court Road. Both expensive, but both have very nice, helpful staff
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 21:05, closed)

balls
"(how many of you were hoping or expecting me to accompany her???)"

*raises hand*

*blushes*
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Sun 4 Nov 2007, 7:00, closed)

I'm
surprised at you!



God knows why....you don't change ;)
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Sun 4 Nov 2007, 20:25, closed)