back when I was in the UK
After a night of cheap MASSIVE DRUGS! and cider, I awoke in my flat to the sounds of porno stylee banging, all 'OOOH YEAH' and 'AAAAH!'and was wondering wtf, then my mate Ian poked his head in my bedroom and proclaimed "Lew is banging some bird in his room, AND ITS NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND!"

Me being hungover sent Ian to his room to check it out, then, lo and behold they had more sexy sounds. I popped my head in to look, and they was both having a jolly good poke at this lady, Ian stuck up her arse, and Lew banging her puss whilst she said "NAH Don't do that my arse will smell of shit all day!" when clearly not caring.

And then they invited me to join in too.

Well, gentle reader, I'd love to say I joined in and banged that slag 7 ways from sundown, but, I decided drinking more Red Star vodka and having a few sneaky spliffs was for the best, bade my retreat, fucked off to play video games in the living room and left the lads too it.

When they finished up, we was sat in my living room, and she had the sheer gaul to exclaim

"It's OK! I'm not a slag, I'm engaged!"

Reckon I narrowly missed the herp there.

*edit* Lew met her on the bus on the way back from the Jobcenter, so, eh, must have been a "proper classy chick", as that was a 10 min or so journey!
(yeswehavenopasties, Fri 23 May 2014, 4:21, 5 replies)

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.
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Thu 22 May 2014, 22:08, 11 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.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 22 May 2014, 21:46, 3 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.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 22 May 2014, 21:37, 2 replies)

Apart from being married, obv
Leonie used to come into my student bedroom, take off her shoes and socks and sit on my bed looking at me alluringly. She was a dead cert, and not unattractive. Simply because I'd heard she went to Christian Union meetings, I decided she didn't really mean it and restrained myself. She eventually gave up and started going round with some ugly runt from our department. I bet they were at it like knives, the dirty buggers, and meanwhile I totally failed to get any of Teh Sex whatsoever at university.

Making up for it now though, 24 years later, so it's not all bad news. Just needed to part with the wife...
(rogerzilla, Thu 22 May 2014, 20:36, 1 reply)

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.
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Thu 22 May 2014, 19:26, 5 replies)

Got a johnny stuck up her.
Trip to A&E to fish it out.

Mood lost.

The end.
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Thu 22 May 2014, 18:02, 9 replies)

The entire male population of where is live are 'not having sex.'
We live in the same town as George! The guy is a right fanny magnet and we don't get a look in.
(FartThroughAWalkieTalkie wished you were dead in ditch on, Thu 22 May 2014, 17:09, 2 replies)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJVmibkdi04
Not[tters] having sex.
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:44, Reply)

OK - well - genuinely - one of the students in our shared house was studying massage.
She was really quite fit, and a complete and utter hippy: stoner, auras, shakras, yoga, yurt music - the lot.

I willingly played victim to her learning of new techniques, as - well - I got a free massage out of it, you dicks.

After one session, which involved oils, sitar music and joss-sticks, she finished up, and said cooly, "So - what shall we do now?", lighting a joint.

Feeling chilled, and strangely energised and cheeky, I turned to her with an immensely cheesy grin, and, wiggling my eyebrows up and down like Borat, I said "Now ... we go to ma room, and we make sweet, beautiful luuurrrrve!", hoping for a laugh, and expecting a slap if I kept it up.

"Oh, OK ... " she said, cooly.

"Er ... no, H - I was joking ... " I said, completely bamboozled.

"Oh, OK ... " she said, cooly.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:39, 7 replies)

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.)
(MaxEdison, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:30, 16 replies)

You want a passion killer try having sex in a Morris Marina

( spazzcaptain Misses Valin @, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:30, 11 replies)

this did not happen to me. This older gay chap was cruising and came across a younger
gentleman. The older gay chap was worldly, but was stunned by the request from the younger chap that he should stick it to him. Really, he wanted a stick from a tree up his pleasure scoop. Older chaps passion was killed. I say passion, I mean gay feelings.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:19, 8 replies)

Now I know I've a habit of repeating myself, but didn't we do this within the last month?

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 22 May 2014, 16:10, 6 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?
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:48, 20 replies)

Dozer. He has a hamster, just got a cat, and an imaginary 'Mrs Dozer', and a baseball cap.

(DBT became a fruitarian on, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:17, 3 replies)

easiest way to not have sex if you're a woman
talk about your feelings
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:05, 8 replies)

shag - blew - load - dump - ym

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 22 May 2014, 15:05, Reply)

I appeared on both Jim'll Fix It, and Rolf's Cartoon Club.
However, I was a very, very, ugly, smelly child.
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:39, 7 replies)

lol virgin

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:24, Reply)

Long term relationships
best way to not get laid and feel guilty about thinking about it.
(smellysamlyingcable Seaman on, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:23, 5 replies)

I once saw Alexei Sayle not having sex in the northbound car park of Keele Services on the M6.

( brb homonecrobatrachophile, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:23, Reply)

I ran out of condoms once.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:09, 1 reply)

I'm not having sex RIGHT NOW!

( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Thu 22 May 2014, 14:09, 9 replies)

First

(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:08, 2 replies)