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This is a question Not having sex

Our pal Freddie Woo says: Climbing into the back seat of the car, she sat on a fortnight-old bag of food shopping I had completely forgotten about. The stench of a bag of bean sprouts popping open is a real passion-killer, I can tell you for nothing. Tell us about the shag you didn't have because you blew it.

(, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:01)
Pages: Popular, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

One way to guarantee not having any sex...
is to take your intended to a cheap hotel miles away in the middle of Germany. I won't bore you with the details other than the name of the hotel so you can look for yourself! To cut a long story short... Ibis in Mayen South.
(, Tue 27 May 2014, 18:18, 18 replies)
Hello, ladies.
After all those years, I strode back into my old local, the ink barely dry on my Ph. in Poon Subjugation from the University of George!town (it's like a regular doctorate only they give you the Ph. and you give them the D), and immediately spotted my next conquest propping up the bar and clearly just waiting for me to arrive.

Beginning the special breathing exercises I learned during my Ph. to overcome the fear of actually talking to a real woman, I sidled up to the bar and coughed discreetly to ensure this fine specimen's attention was drawn to my polo shirt, exclusively embossed in gold with the logo "PUA". She was not slow to respond.

"Pooer? I hope you're not trying to say you want to take a dump on me."

Needless to say, I was quick to put the record straight and let her know what she was in for:

"No no, love, it's nothing like this. This polo shirt -" underscored with a wink for good measure "is issued only to certified fanny rats."

"Eurgh! You're not putting rodents anywhere near my fanny. Fuck off, you freak!"

Luckily for me, I knew from my years of training that this was Woman Code for "Terribly sorry to disappoint you, but I was in fact born without any external genitalia, like a Barbie doll, and besides, I'm asexual, and even if I did have a libido, I'd be a lesbian, so I'm biologically immune to your evident studliness."

Safe in the knowledge that this time obviously didn't count and that my record would remain untarnished, I drove home and stripped off my polo shirt, put on some banging tunes and did a power posedown in front of my bedroom mirror just to show myself that I was definitely The Man and that the next poon I met would be gagging to be subjugated.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 17:48, 8 replies)
I don't have much to tell personally
So instead I shall give you the tribulations of my good friend Dom "Thirteen Times" Johnson.

At the age of nineteen, he is still a virgin. Now, I would never normally mock someone for that. Hell, I was older than that by a couple of years when I lost my virginity. No, the thing I mock him for is that he has ~almost~ lost his virginity.

Thirteen times over.

And failed every single time.

Now the first six are not really his fault. As an extremely keen cyclist throughout puberty (he was probably the best junior in the country at one point), his development was slightly affected by long hours in the saddle. To cut a long (or not - we'll come to that) story short, if he's been cycling any appreciable amount the day before, he can't get it up.

Six times denied by his own penis.

Which, apparently, is not particularly large. To the extent, in fact, that women #7 and #8 saw him naked, laughed, and left the building.

Make that eight times denied by his own penis. So far so unfortunate, but now we come to the bulk of the stories.

#9 - After pulling a girl in a seedy club, they took the bus back to campus, where he lived at the time. The bus trip was so long (at least something was) that she got bored of him on the way and on arriving, promptly took a taxi back into town again.

#10 - Same club, same situation. About to get into a taxi (he did learn something from the previous experience) the girl leans in and whispers "Do you want to go back to mine to have sex?" He then has a twenty minute giggling fit at the word "sex". During which the girl gets into the taxi and leaves, alone. Apparently he didn't quite learn enough.

#11 - He manages to get a girl into bed this time, but she passes out almost instantly. Desperate as he is, he has to draw the line somewhere, and spends the night on the floor. Upon awakening, the girl tells him that he has "until the taxi gets here" to do whatever he wants with her. Alas, twenty seconds proves to not be quite enough. Even for him.

#12 - This time, he manages to get back to the girl's flat instead of his. Alas, he's eaten a rather dodgy curry the night before, and asks the use the bathroom. As he told me "It was like a volcanic eruption. Noises, screams, flowing rivers of awful".

Her bedroom was right next door to the bathroom. She heard EVERYTHING, and made him sleep on the floor. Again.

Unlucky #13 (and my own personal favourite) - He pulled a girl at the students union during freshers week. "Do you have a condom?" she asked him, in a sultry voice with only a trace of impending unconsciousness. "No" replies our hero "but I'll go get one". So off he trots to the toilets and procures not one but TWO (ooh, ambitious) whole condoms. Sadly, when he gets back out, she's gone. Perhaps understandably (or perhaps not) he hunts high and low throughout the whole building for her. She's nowhere to be found.

Now, most people would give up at this point. Some would go back to drinking, some would go for a walk and bemoan the fickleness of womankind and some would simply go home for a wank. But not our hero, oh no.

Because he decides the best course of action is to wait for her to come out of the union.

By hiding outside the union.

In a bush. The leafy kind.

In the rain.

Clutching his condoms.

For four and a half hours.



He remains, to this day, a virgin.
(, Wed 28 May 2014, 21:00, 10 replies)
and then there was daniella
when i was about 25, i was living in a house share. a new girl had moved in, a very sweet but rather naive girl called daniella. she was 28 and from a tiny town in the american midwest. one friday night, my then-boyfriend and i arrived home to find our other housemate kathy and her new boyfriend hovering in the hall.

"thank god you're back! goodnight!" they yelled, running upstairs, doubtless to have lots of sex. we could not do the same. because the sofa was full of sobbing, vomiting american. oh crap. eventually i got out of her that she was seriously upset because she had gone out and pulled someone that evening.

i couldn't understand why she was so upset. she was single. she was young. what was the problem in pulling someone? but when i said this, she got more and more upset. eventually she sat up, vomit and tears streaked everywhere, and sobbed, "you don't UNDERSTAND. it was my FIRST TIME." i'd met this girl 5 days before, and until that point, the most intimate extent of our conversation had been which cupboard she should put her food in.

i mopped her up a bit and sent her to bed. in the morning, she was incrediby hungover and incredibly subdued. she thought she should take the morning after pill. i pointed her in the direction of tesco pharmacy and went to sunbathe in the back garden. 10 minutes later she was back. more hysterics because the pharmacist didn't want to give her the pill.

it turned out, on closer examination, that she had just given him a blow-job, and he had come on her stomach. i didn't want to be rude, but i couldn't stop staring. on what planet did she think that could have made her pregnant? did she think it sank through the skin, by osmosis? or did she think it swam all the way down and then up??

she lived with us for another 2 years (her visa was not renewed when she had officially the worst day at work ever - she managed to let al-jazeera into the national archives to make a documentary on making british passports, and they had to get a super-injunction to stop them broadcasting it; i think of this whenever i think i've had a shit day at work) and she never did get any more cock. i hope she gets lots of it now she's back home, because she's a genuinely nice girl. just very good at never having sex.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 21:46, 3 replies)
It took me five attempts before I realised that I had to put the rohypnol into someone ELSES drink!

(, Fri 23 May 2014, 14:11, Reply)
I have very little to contribute to this topic other than this pea
It was night and outside, there fore it was also dark, and the teenage bad advice was camping with 100’s of other teenage people. Most satisfyingly, around 30% of them didn’t have willies and where rumoured to be of those mythical beings, TEENAGE GIRLS!!

The young people had travelled from all over the state to attend this bloody great camping extravaganza and much mingling was had. Late on the second night gathered around a random campfire, the very social and horny (that horny feeling only a virgin teenage male can know) bad advice was making friends with a bunch of lads from a place far far away from his home. He had chosen to make friends with this group as they had in their crew girls that where only their friends and from simple observation it appeared no one was attending their crutch caverns.

One talkative spritely young thing made a general announcement that she need to “go wee” but, didn’t want to go by herself as she was scared of the dark. As her dude friends suggested she take a torch or just fuck off in general (they where not nice boys I started to think) she appealed to bad advice to escort her to the camp area set aside for abolutions. And because he was toeyer than a roman sandal and prepared to take any and every possible chance to be in the single company of a female, he agreed.

As they trotted along the darkened bush path she gibbered at a 1000 miles an hour on random and unconnected subjects until arriving at subject of watching people piss (oh, for she was all class). A proposal was made by the bearer of nubile young breasts that if she could watch bad advice drain the vein, she would let him watch her twinkle tinkle.

After a stunned grunt in the affirmative, they stepped off the track into a small clearing and bad advice produced what to this point had only been hand cranked and released the yellow stream.

“It’s too dark” she exclaimed, “I can hear you but, I can’t see you, let me shake it for you” clearly she knew how this process worked. Her arms encircled his waist and gripping the root of the love muscle proceeded to give it a shake that sprayed drops of bladder juice in a 30 meter radius and near detached it from the body but, after a few seconds of shaking, the internal inspector rose to full and glorious attention in her nimble hands to be rewarded with a few fast yet jerky pumps. She stepped out from behind him and her shadowy outline was visible in the dark, the sound of her zip resonated amongst the tree’s and she crouched down and then a whistle of water under pressure through a small opening played like music to his ears but, she was right, it was too dark to see much more than outlines.

“I forgot the paper” she giggled naughtily.

“I have a tissue you can use” offered the iron rigid bad advice.

“I should just wipe it MYSELF?” she asked, with a slight harshness sneaking into her previously light sing song voice.

“well it’s not going to wipe its self now is it” offered the very logical yet very stupid bad advice, while wondering how he could ‘bust a move’ on this possibly interested sweet young thing.

She arose from her crouched position, pushed the now damp tissue back into his hand and strode back to the path and back to the fire, her fear of dark seemingly evaporating in the heat of her, in bad advice’s eyes, unexplained anger.

I often think back to that dark night of camping and sometimes I ponder what might have been but, generally, I think to myself, you stupid stupid stupid boy.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 22:08, 11 replies)
European Teen Bukkake Queen (Vol. 18)
Hello sweeties!

It’s me again, your lovely newly-regenerated super SEXXXXEEEE Doctor Skagra!

When I first saw the title of this week’s Question of the Week I did chortle in anticipation of all the heeeeee-larious stories that it would provoke. And then I did pause, and sigh woefully, as I realised that I would not have a story to post. Because, my fine fondant ferrous fans, I have ALWAYS got who or what I wanted and have NEVER ‘blown it’ – at least, not in *that* way. Oooh – errr!

But then I sighed again, more deeply this time, my small (but pert) breasts heaving. [Because, as you know from last week, my current incarnation – my ninth – is female!!! Wunderbar – and, indeed, Wunderbra!!! Full story is here

www.b3ta.com/questions/neardeathexperiences2/post2287114

in case you didn’t read it (as if!)]

I sighed again because I remembered that – lucky you! – I DO have a story to tell this week. I did once fail to have sex, I did once ‘blow it.’ And not in that way etc.

It was when I was in one of my male incarnations. I’d just come out of a disastrous relationship with – funnily enough – River Song, and I was still in love with her. What a fool I was! It was OK at first, and the sex was fantastic, but after a month or so I began to realise that she was obsessed with that other Doctor – you know, *him*. She talked about him constantly and when she came she would scream ‘Doctor, oh, DOCTOR!’ This pleased me at first because I thought she meant me – Doctor Skagra – but one fateful night as we basked in the warm afterglow of our love she confessed with an evil gleam in her eyes that she meant HIM. I broke off the relationship shortly after that because, though I still loved her, I hated the Doctor and couldn’t stand the thought of stirring his porridge, and it galls me to this day that I am ‘custard cousins’ with him.

Oh and whilst I am on the subject, River Song nicked ‘sweetie’ from me, sweeties. Or rather, she will do, as she told me that she met me in my future and her past, when I was / will be in my current incarnation. Apparently I am to have a drunken lesbian one-night stand with her quite soon, and I can’t avoid it as it would mess up the Web of Time. I can hardly wait.

Anyway, after I chucked River Song I entered a period of depression and started drinking heavily. One particularly bad night I found myself in a seedy bar in Cologne, drowning my sorrows in expensive German Pilsner lager. I wasn’t interested in any of the women in the bar, not even for casual one-night rebound sex, as my hearts still belonged to River. However I could not fail to notice this slim young dark-haired woman giving me the eye and smiling across from where she was propping up the bar with a load of other women. I tried to avoid eye contact and give off ‘leave me alone’ vibes but I must have accidentally given off the wrong signals as she eventually strutted over and plonked herself down at my table opposite me.

She smiled at me and said, ‘Hi, my name’s Elena, I’m from Electric Climax Productions and I am scouting for participants in our new movie, it’s called “European Teen Bukkake Queen (Volume 18)” – are you familiar with the series?

‘No,’ I replied, ‘but the title doesn’t leave much to the imagination.’

She laughed. ‘Yah, you’re right. It’s basically a massive fuck-fest at the end of which one lucky girl is crowned European Teen Bukkake Queen.’

I sipped my lager, wanting this woman to go away, but at the same time a little bit curious. ‘What would the “participants” be required to do?’

‘Okay, there’s eight girls and about twenty guys? The girls are all hot and all aged 18 or 19. You’ll get to fuck each of the girls and then cum all over her face with all the other guys. Are you a heavy cummer? Can you cum like ten times in one day?’

I replied to the affirmative – we Time Lords, with our superior biology, have immense sexual prowess and cum like racehorses.

‘Okay, yah, well, if you’re in, there will be a strict 30-day non-ejaculation clause in your contract. You have to promise not to cum for at least thirty days prior to the shoot. And there’s a special diet you’ll have to follow to maximise your payload of semen. So – are you interested?’

I looked at her eager face, imagined it covered in semen, and then thought of the lovely River Song’s face. ‘Er, no thanks… thanks for asking.’

Elena looked disappointed, but then nodded and smiled, and went away.

Later, of course, I kicked myself for turning down this opportunity.

So, there you go, I completely blew it – I could have drowned in poon, teen poon at that, and then drowned that poon with my Time Lord jizz. But I didn’t.

Never mind! It was ages ago and I am over her now. And at least it gave you all a lovely story to read, eh, fans?

Laters, sweeties!

XXX
(, Mon 26 May 2014, 18:18, 20 replies)
Tell us about the shag you didn't have because you blew it...literally
Back when that bastard Icelandic volcano erupted, I found myself stuck in Hamburg - really fucking stuck. After countless hours milling around the airport terminal, BA finally decided to arrange hotel accommodation. Nearly two hours of chaos and confusion later, I was allocated a room in the decidedly shabby Hotel Ibis

At hotel reception, 100's of people in dozens of languages, harassed and harried the poor staff until finally, I was given a key and collapsed onto the only single bed in my room. I then attempted to take a shower in the piss-poor 'bathroom' - but of course, there was no hot water, as the hotel was full to bursting and everyone was attempting to wash at the same time. Cue 100's more people charging downstairs to harangue the poor receptionists some more.

I decided to retire to the bar.

A few strong lagers later and I was feeling slightly better about my situation. I didn't have to be back in Blighty urgently and after hearing reports from around Europe, I knew I was lucky to even have a hotel room. And then I met the lovely Anke. And things got even better.

We chatted for a while about our situation, amused ourselves debunking national stereotypes - for a German she was very funny and for a Brit I have perfect teeth - and generally passed the time, happy in each other's company. When the bar emptied, I let slip that I had a decent single-malt from duty free and suggested we retire upstairs to sample it. As we'd already complained about our rooms, she knew I had a single bedroom, whilst she'd been allocated a double - and we agreed there'd be far more room in hers. I was most definitely in.

I grabbed the Glenlivet, some ice from the machine and was at her door in less than funf Minuten! We chatted some more, really began to relax and then the moment arrived. I leaned over, ostensibly to grab another cigarette, and in one deft movement our heads were millimeters apart, she looked up at me, blinked twice and we kissed. So far, so good. But the lagers had caught up with me, so I gently pulled away and entered the wonderfully appointed Hotel Ibis bathroom. I'd almost started to piss, when my body told me a dump was also going to be required. So I dropped my trousers and began my completely not at all OCD 'away from home toilet ritual' - a simple, thorough cleansing of the seat, followed by the careful laying of a further 'paper seat' on top.

I looked for a towel, there were none. I looked for some toilet paper, there was none. Not even a fucking bath mat. The place was bare, save for Anke's unopened toiletry bag. I took a long look at the toilet seat, it wasn't too bad, plasticky and very worn...but not too bad. I ventured down for a closer inspection - and lucky I did, as sitting there proudly was a single, very dark and curly pube. No matter, I thought, I'll simply blow it away. So I bent down even lower and puffed at the nasty thing. It didn't move. So I crouched right down, head almost touching the seat and gave another, colossal lung-filled burst of air. Nothing. But I needed a shit! So I blew and I blew and I blew. So much so that I failed to notice Anke standing in the doorway.

When I did clock her, she simply stared at me, an English bloke sat on the floor, trousers round ankles and to all intents and purposes, sniffing hard at a toilet seat. Her eyes said it all. Her famous German humour deserted her. A quick flick of her head towards the door meant my opportunity had gone. I sheepishly pulled my trousers up and slipped away. There was no explanation I could give.

I never saw her again at the hotel. But I know she still tells the story of 'Ze English Seat Sniffer'.

And I thought all Krauts were pervs?
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:48, 20 replies)
Big car
but not big enough. My first car was an old 60s model. Steel dashboard. Huge bench seat in the front as well as the back. The steering wheel was enormous and had a big shiny ring in the center for the horn.

The young lady and I were making out in the front seat at a popular site for such activities. There must have been a dozen cars nearby.

As we started to get a bit more into it and taking shirts off, ANNNND my elbow becomes wedged in between the steering wheel and the horn ring.
HOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
Took almost a full minute to get my elbow unstuck.

Certainly put a damper on the mood and probably for the rest of the cars parked up there that night.
(, Wed 28 May 2014, 11:37, 4 replies)
I think I'm doing it right.
Many many years ago I served with the RFW 157th Plonkers.
Now this was back in the day when they didn't allow girlies and nancyboys to be members of His Royal Highnesses Armed Forces. We were often away from our families for months at a time on passive duty or just performing exercises so our conjugal arrangements became quite regimented. We had a couple of chappies in our midst who despite loving their wives a great deal were right proper bugger-boys. So of an evening after a busy day of wandering semi-deserted streets, if it was your allotted time and day you had the choice of laying with Francis or Stephen. It was that or some vigorous onanism whilst visiting the latrine pit.
Many in our motley crew enjoyed the delicious delights of young Stephen's mouth and the skill with which he used it to bring about a lingering and pleasant climax. It was said of Stephen that he could quite easily start one of the old diesel Cruisers by sucking on it's exhaust pipe! And as the chief mechanic in our platoon this was somewhat fitting.
Some of the more discerning of us chose the company of Franny. With a slighter build and a smaller frame Francis was most definitely the more effeminate of the two and thus easily the more alluring and as the tracker of our group there was little chance of losing him. The sensuousness of stroking the downy hair on his pert white buttocks was just immeasurable and quite beyond compare. And the utter delights to be beheld when he spread those cheeks makes me shudder with anticipation to this very day.

During a particularly hard posting in some Eastern European place we found ourselves patrolling through an urban environment built upon the ancient ruins of a castle and surrounding moat. This was our area to deploy to and control. Fortunately on the day we came across no violence or opposition. Since there was a lul in the proceedings I chose to steal a few moments with Francis and enjoy some much needed manual relief near the old water-course. He had been busy all morning following trails in the fresh snow and as he manipulated me in his soft, tender hands he reported that all the trails seemed to lead to the gates and nowhere else. Whilst we were obliging each other Francis exclaimed, "Bugger me!". "Actually it's usually one or the other." I purred into his bobbing ear.
Just as I was approaching my explosive jizz-plosion he panted at me - "No lieutenant, "I've just noticed another trail through the snow. Leading right up to where the water was!".

And that's when I realised that I had a piste in my own moat.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 8:18, 4 replies)
when we were about 16, my friend evie's parents foolishly went away and foolishly left her and her brother alone with a house sitter
she promptly threw a massive party. the poor housesitter, edwin the 21 year old postman, could only look on in horror. eventually he locked himself in the lounge and sat rocking with his hands over his ears. all sorts of pointless teenage shit went down: someone was sick in the pond and the koi carp ate it; someone smashed her mum's bird ornaments; someone got superglued into the spare room. and evie met roger.

roger was a bit older than us, and he was a novelty, being someone's cousin and so a stranger to all of us. before long, he and evie were snogging, and before much longer, they were heading upstairs. a bit later on, our friend vik and i were at the bottom of the stairs when a tear stained evie came down them.

"i just had sex," she howled. "and i wasn't ready!" vik and i were totally shocked. worried about her tears; slightly jealous/intrigued at the popped cherry; furious with roger if she hadn't wanted to do it. a whole host of emotions. we took her back upstairs and started calming her down.

roger definitely hadn't done anything wrong. she just couldn't really remember it, and it wasn't how she had wanted to lose her virginity, especially as she didnt remember it going in, wah wah wah. we consoled her for ages. until vik suddenly looked at her closely.

"you didn't have sex," she said firmly. "you're still wearing your tights." and she was absolutely right.

a year later we went on a girlie holiday to greece, and evie managed to ask not one but two blokes over the course of the 2 weeks whether they'd actually had sex the night before (they hadn't). she's married with a kid now. god help it when it comes to the birds and the bees chat.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 21:37, 2 replies)
I appeared on both Jim'll Fix It, and Rolf's Cartoon Club.
However, I was a very, very, ugly, smelly child.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:39, 7 replies)
I could have had lots more sex
after I had given birth to mini-me I still lived at home with my parents.
When his dad came to stay, they thought it was reasonable to put us in SEPARATE rooms!
For gods sake we had already had a child! He had seen me poo myself while pooing out a tiny human! How close do you want people to be? What was wrong with them? We had clearly already 'done it'. Why not let us do the do? Allow us to get frisky? Stolen seconds gettin' jiggy and low down and dutty under the sheets? I was hormonal and womanly and fertile and incredibly responsible and 18.
For gods sake MY PARENTS MIGHT HAVE HAD A POINT.
(, Wed 28 May 2014, 21:23, 5 replies)
Drove about two hours to meet a real live woman

...who I thought was a definite goer. Quick pub meal, nice chat before a cheesy movie, another movie at home with drinks and getting close.

"Well I only have one bed, so I guess you can sleep with me, but don't try anything funny" she said. I played the gent until the morning, and then, very horny, started coming on to her and by that point she was well up for it. Kisses, down to the nips, and then went down on her (well, it's only polite for starters, isn't it?). Job done - I gesture her hand towards my now desperate-to-get-on-with-the-job cock and she gets up, puts the kettle on and says she's expecting someone to arrive to work on the kitchen shortly.

I drove home and had a wank.

The end.
(, Wed 28 May 2014, 17:35, 4 replies)
I once didn't have sex for a reason other than being a loser.
My then girlfriend and I were staying in a rather "quaint" bed and breakfast in the very exciting city of York! We had only been together for a few months so we were still getting to know each other and, since it was a long-distance relationship, we hadn't yet met the other partner's family.
The room was decorated in period style which was a little overboard on the flowers and lace but very fitting and very well maintained. They also had one of the largest shower cubicles I've been in since my time at grammar school (which is another story). So, as people do in this situation my intended and I decided to share the shower... Shower gel was applied, various bits stiffened, cuddling lead to excitement almost ready to burst on my part.
Then, in that way only women can do she asked me "So, when will we meet your mother?". Things didn't recover, sadly.
(, Tue 27 May 2014, 18:48, 6 replies)
When drunk, it is inadvisable to slow down to a "slow n' low, sexyyy" rhythm ...
.. and gradually fall asleep, particularly if while doing so she asks you what you're thinking of, and you respond that you're thinking of your mate Tom playing the banjo underwater.

It doesn't improve things.
(, Tue 27 May 2014, 13:48, 3 replies)
50 shades of Tampax
Saturday night she's on her period but she's obviously kind of horny anyway, so she starts grabbing my dick and making out and we decide we're gonna bang anyway. So I put a towel down to keep from bloodying the bed, put a condom on, and I'm ready to go. I pull off her panties and immediately I notice there's a pad attached to them... a little off-putting but I ignore it and toss it to the side.

I'm right about to stick it in dat when she says "wait, I still have a tampon in." I'm like "wtf, go to the bathroom and take it out!" Then what she says next truly, deeply shocks and disturbs me: "I want YOU to take it out." At this point I'm stunned. How can she possibly think this is something acceptable to ask of a man who's already going out of his way to have sex with you despite your sickening, bloody vag? I first think she's joking, but she makes it clear she's not only turned on by the idea of me removing it, but expects that I should be turned on too. Then the following exchange occurs:

Me: "How could you POSSIBLY think this would be something I'd want to do? Are you insane?"

Her: "But that's what they do in the book!"

Me: "WHAT BOOK???"

Her: "FIFTY SHADES OF GREY!"

Now I realize she's gotten the idea from that pornographic book she's reading. What the Twilight series did for women's romantic expectations, this new series has done for their sexual expectations. She tells me she just put the tampon in like 20 minutes ago so it should be pretty much clean. I swallow my pride and, still wanting to have sex despite it all, I pull the string. The thing is drenched in blood. It's like a horror movie. I go flush it down the toilet and sit back down on the bed, my erection completely gone. I tell her I don't think I can do this now. She begs for a couple of minutes still wanting that heizenberg wang and eventually she manages to arouse me again and we do it.
(, Mon 26 May 2014, 22:00, 12 replies)
ways i've blown it
falling downstairs, falling asleep, throwing up, breaking my arm, slicing open my other arm by falling on a broken bottle, telling him i fancied his brother and pointing at it and laughing. to be fair, i was off my face that time, but it still wasn't a nice thing to do.
(, Fri 23 May 2014, 18:18, 13 replies)
Alcohol and loosening
A good few years back, I'd been good friends with a girl and she was off to work overseas for a year, so she decided she'd have a bit of a do for some of her friends to say goodbye. I was invited.

I was also the only person other than her who was at her house that night. Oh-ho, thought I, getting a distinct good feeling.

"So", she said, "Do you want to go out, or will we just stay in with a drink and a video?" I opted for the latter option. Fewer opportunities for interruption, I figured. So we went and got a few bottles of wine, and sat down to watch a film with drink and some food. All good so far.

I don't remember much about the film to be honest, although I do recall seeing a nice pair of tits in it. Unfortunately that was the only pair I was going to see that evening. I seemed to have consumed rather a lot of wine, and by the time bed was suggested, I eagerly stood up, then sat down again in a hurry as my balance wasn't all it should have been. I stood up again, more carefully this time, and just at that point, my innards started to rumble a bit.

"Bugger", I thought. "I'm going to let rip with a big fart, just at the critical point". And as it happens, I did. There was no holding it in, and out came a serious expulsion of gas.

That was bad enough, but I then felt a damp, heavy warmth not normally associated with simple gaseous emissions. Yes, for the only time I can recall in adult life, I had shat myself.

"I think I need to go to the toilet", quoth I.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea", she agreed, having guessed the nature of my plight (possibly by the vile aroma emanating from my nether regions, and my now very odd gait).

I slept in the spare bed that night. Never did get any from her.
(, Wed 28 May 2014, 21:11, 2 replies)
Repost
A few years back, I was going out with a girl who was tremendously filthy, but was also in RAF training. She'd swallowed the propaganda entirely, to the extent that when we walked past a Lib Dem election poster she hissed at it and angrily explained how they wanted to cut military funding. Our politics did not match.

Anyway, I went to a formal meal at her RAF base and it was quite an eye-opener. A bunch of otherwise intelligent people wearing ludicrously elaborate formal dress and making the sort of anti-foreigner statements that I'd previously assumed only belonged to Jeremy Kyle contestants.

I met a girl there who was closer to my views than any of the others (she'd come as her friend's +1), and we hit it off quite well. She had a guest room in the barracks and as we were quite drunk it didn't take long before we decided we should slope off for a sneaky shag.

In her room and we're both standing up against the wall, she's topless and I'm entirely naked by this point, and there's an angry-sounding barrage of knocks on the door. OH FUCK, the missus has come looking for me, and all of her friends are here, and all of her friends are psychotic paras.

So I scrambled trying to hide myself, first diving under the duvet but Rachel made it clear that this was not a good disguise. Being a military base there were not such things as en-suites or walk-in wardrobes, in fact the room was entirely square with nowhere to hide.

In a flash of inspiration, I realised that the window sill was about 18 inches wide, so I leapt up behind the curtain and stood there as Rachel answered the door.

"No, I haven't seen him, I was just getting changed", I heard as I cowered three feet up on the window sill.

Satisfied that I wasn't there, my midget right-winger fucked off.

Much to my distress, this had put Rachel out of the mood and so she suggested I get dressed. This I did, then I went out of a random door onto the base. I wandered about for a bit and then returned nonchalantly to the feast room. Laura the miniature racist asked me where the fuck I'd been, and I entirely got away with telling her that as a drunken person, I had wanted to get some fresh air.

Never did fuck Rachel though. :-(
(, Mon 26 May 2014, 16:24, 9 replies)
The Evil of Drink
She was gorgeous. We had been drinking a lot. She was unmistakably interested, in a naked kind of way. I said "I'm going to fuck you until your head falls off." She indicated her approval of this simple but brilliant plan.

I fell asleep.
(, Sun 25 May 2014, 19:24, 5 replies)
straight out of a porn flick
Every time I visited the pizza place, I'd joke with the delivery boys, both of whom were 'jock' types and wouldn't have looked out of place in a Calvin Klein advert. I never for the life of me imagined that I had a chance, or that they were anything other than straight. Then, one evening, I ordered a delivery and the cute blond winked at me and said, "If you give me a bigger tip, I could slip you some meat with the next one..."

"No thanks, I'm vegetarian," I said, and closed my door.

Five minutes later I was groaning and I still wince about it ten years later. He was gorgeous. I never saw him again. His Uncle, who owns the place, will only say that he "fell in with a bad crowd".
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 12:59, 4 replies)
We had an episode of love making scheduled.
We usually tried to get it done once a week, and it usually consisted of a little bit of fingering and an expeditious missionary pump. Not terribly exciting and she had started to come to bed later and later, perhaps in the hope that I would have fallen asleep.
Screw it, I said to myself, I've got start being more self-sufficient. I rediscovered the joys of wanking and have never had to wait for, bribe, cajole, go to unreasonable lengths to please or otherwise persuade a partner since.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 1:22, 2 replies)
A cold rainy Saturday in November
In my girlfriend's room at university. First years, miles away from parents, we'd recently discovered the noble tradition of fucking like rabbits. We'd had a nice afternoon doing some shit or other, heading back to hers before dinner. She wanted to shower before eating, and suggested I join her for some fun. Communal bathrooms, so a nice bit of risk added to the situation.

However, being Saturday afternoon, I had one eye on the clock. As it was approaching quarter to five, I knew the time was near - sports report on radio 5, and the final scores. "Go ahead" I told her, "I'll join you in five - that way no-one will know we're in together". Took ages to get to the final scores. Just as they were reading them out for our division, about 15 minutes later, she stormed back in, dripping (not in a good way), and kicked me out.

It was 1997, I had to wait till the next day to find out the result.

We lost.
(, Fri 23 May 2014, 20:09, 2 replies)
I never get turned down for sex
mainly because I have sex with your mum
(, Fri 23 May 2014, 14:01, 6 replies)
a shortened version repost
A lovely morning out in the countryside to pick shrooms with a long standing platonic male friend.
I decided to eat a few to get a nice little buzz going, forgetting that I have very little tolerance so the few I ate actually got me a bit more mashed than planned.
Seemed like a good idea to make a pass at him for a bit of outdoors rumpy pumpy but unfortunately when he undid his trousers I got the giggles.
Full on uproarious laughter when he pulled his trousers down.
Fair play, he did try but apparently its very hard to have sex with someone who is rolling around on the floor completely off their face.
Took a few hours to get me sorted enough to get back to the car and by then the moment had well and truly passed.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 19:26, 5 replies)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJVmibkdi04
Not[tters] having sex.
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:44, Reply)
My chance to lose my virginity -- lost.
I was working on a play in California (I was the sound designer and technician) called The Boy Friend. I was in my late 20s and still a virgin. One night, after performance, we all went to a bar and hoisted a few. One of the ladies informed me that she needed a ride home, as she'd left her keys in the car of her boyfriend with whom she'd broken up that evening, and who had given her a lift to the theater.
I drove her home (she lived quite close to where I did) and, facing her locked apartment door, I manfully lifted her sliding glass door off its tracks, and we gained entry to her tiny apartment. I asked if I could use her bathroom, and she pointed to the only other door in the place. I allowed some of the beers to begin their return journey to the sea, opened the door, and her couch had transformed into a bed, and she was lounging upon said bed with somewhat less clothes than she'd been using when I entered the bathroom.
"I think it's time for bed," she said, looking at me a bit dreamily.
I looked at my watch, saw that it was after 1 AM, and, knowing we had a matinee in the morning said something along the lines of, "Oh, my! You're quite right."
About 20 minutes later, I realized the enormity of my error.
She didn't speak to me for the rest of the run of the play.
I felt a right idiot.

(This is my first post, please be gentle.)
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:30, 16 replies)
easiest way to not have sex if you're a woman
talk about your feelings
(, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:05, 8 replies)

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