You gotta know when to hold 'em...know when to fold 'em...know when to walk away...know when to RUN...

“Pooflake, for fuck’s sake put your cock away! We’ve gotta go…NOW!”

Those precious few words saved my life.

There I was, just about to hurtle bell-end first into the weightiest orgasmic climax of my pitiful few years on this planet...

…An orgasm that was the perfect spaff-tastic finale to what was undoubtedly one of my greatest mystical dalliances into the art of 'bumping-uglies'...ever.

When I heard that fateful phrase being shouted ferociously at me, it was immediately followed by my being forcibly removed from ‘hanging out the back’ of a fine foxy filly on all fours.

And I’ve never been so grateful.

Disclaimer: For obvious reasons as you will soon realise, some of this story is told from the perspective of the mate who barked those life-changing words at me; as it was relayed to me after the event.

~~~~~~~~~~~Wavy lines~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was 21, verile, and drunkenly hip-twirling through life. Many of my weekends were spent going out on the piss in Leicester with a mate from work called ‘Maxi’. I would always crash round his shagpad on these booze-fuelled extravaganzas.

We were an odd pair...he was a nightclubbing, aftershock drinking, ‘dance choon’ fan, I was a pub, pint of cider and packet of pork scratchings type of guy. But we got on well, and our usual nights out would include a combination of things to accommodate both our tastes. (hopefully with some ‘flange action’ thrown in if one or both of us got lucky).

However, whether our nights prowling for slappers delightful young ladies of low moral fibre would end successfully or not, the evening would always end up the same way. In a casino.

Y'see, Maxi was a gambler. A shite one, but a gambler all the same.

So early evening on this one particular occasion, it was business as usual. We were out getting merrily cunted in some standard townie bar...when I saw her across the crowded room…

Her name was Emma. (What is it about girls called 'Emma'?)

We’d met in various pubs a few times before, caught each other’s eye, danced, talked and even enjoyed a little kiss and cuddle. I thought she was quite lovely and always hoped to see more of her...all of her in fact...because she had ownership of a body that you’d like to eat your dinner off without using cutlery, (and when I say ‘dinner’ I mean 'lashings of whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate sauce').

We’re talking a 'Special K advert’ body here. I found myself making involuntary ‘Grrr’ noises just looking at her.

Our eyes met and I walked over to ‘test the water’…but this time she was different. Although pleased to see me, she seemed distracted, like she was ‘angry’ about something…

Now, I didn’t know what it was that had annoyed her so, and I didn’t want to know….because when a ‘so-hot-she-was-setting-off-the-smoke-alarms’ woman wants to vent some frustration in the ways that she was suggesting, a man would have to either be a raving spackercake or a ‘Vagina decliner’ to refuse such an offer.

I mean, if you’ve ever made ‘angry love’, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

So we chatted, sat and kissed politely. It was going well. Maxi went off to try (and fail) to pull as the night went on, then eventually, and with a crushing inevitability, he returned to us and said: "I wanna go to the Casino...”

I was about to tell him to ‘cock off’ but surprisingly, Emma thought this was a great idea (I suspected the VERY late bar might have had something to do with it). She agreed to accompany us and even suggested the casino we could go to. RESULT!

Our only problem was that it was members only. How could we get in?

At that point, Emma unveiled her fiendishly brilliant scheme. She told us: "I'm a member, I used to go there quite a bit. The cards don't have a name or photo on...just a membership number. Here Maxi, you borrow my card, sign Pooflake in as a guest…

…then Pooflake, you come back outside...

…and you and I can ‘slip round the back’ and sneak in the ‘tradesman's entrance’…"

(Oh alright, so she didn't say the last bit exactly like that, but you get the idea)

She passed the card to Maxi and glanced at me provocatively before whispering: "…and they’ll be nobody about in the alley!..."

Just the anticipation of what diabolically saucy shenanigans were going through her beautiful lust-filled head started my spunk trumpet standing to attention. I dutifully wandered in to the place with Maxi, got signed in and bollocked straight back out and round the corner into the adjoining passageway

As soon as she saw me she kissed me passionately…pushing her tongue deep into my mouth and swirling it around with so much force that I thought the enamel would peel off my teeth. Within a few short seconds she had rammed her hand down my pants and started schlong-slapping my Loch Ness love monster like a mongoose taunting a startled spaff-spitting King Cobra.

I then heard the most wonderful words ever whispered breathily into my ear. She said: “I want you…deep inside me.” She then proceeded to lay down on the damp back steps, hitch up her little skirt and manoeuvre her tiny black panties to one side.

Such a blatantly rampant horn-fest was a relatively new experience for me…but I wasn’t about to miss out.

Seizing the moment, I did what any red-bloodied male would do in the same situation...I dived in and made a lunge for her clunge like a drunken lump of sponge.

Forgetting technique, finesse or even the time-wasting element of completely removing my trousers, I was soon laying on top of her and pounding at her clout like a maniac with a meat tenderiser. Her legs stretched up behind my ears to gain maximum penetration to her sweet, moist and vice-tight snatch. I was in a blissful euphoria as she made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to make love, she just wanted sex…she wanted to be fucked. Hard.

Normally in these situations of extreme eroticism I would be a 'two push Charlie' but even at this moment of heightened pleasure, for some ungodly reason (maybe alcohol) I had the awesome power of stud-muffin stamina – and I rode her like I was a stallion on steroids, enjoying every sticky, sweaty moment of shuddering pleasure as it ricocheted and jolted through our collective spasming nerve endings.

With our bodies gushing, panting, heaving and grasping at each other ever closer…we were oblivious to the odd townsperson walking by the alleyway nearby. Everything was going full blast into the perfect crescendo…

…


Switching scenes now, Maxi was on the roulette table during this period of frisky frivolity. Losing as fucking usual, he was quietly approached mid-game and tentatively tapped on the shoulder by a burly security guard with a smirk on his face.

“Excuse me, sir, would you mind accompanying me to the security office?” He asked

Perplexed but with nothing to hide, Maxi obliged, and as he entered the pokey broom cupboard of a room, he had to squeeze himself past half a dozen or so assorted members of staff and security, who were all leering over the CCTV screens with knowing expressions.

”Do you know this man? He was spotted earlier with you…” The man-mountain quizzed Maxi as he pointed to the screen featuring my pasty pale buttocks going up and down like a bride’s nightie.

Recognising me, but unsure as to exactly how much trouble we were in, Maxi replied: “Erm…”

However, before he could continue he was cut off by another security guard who said with a big grin:

“…Because he’s doing quite well!”

Maxi breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry mate”, said the casino manager: “You’d be surprised how often we get this round here…let him finish then go and tell him he was on Candid Camera!”

As Maxi reflected on who was actually guarding the casino at this point…they all continued to watch.

Soon feeling reassured by the relaxed nature and good humour of the other guards, Maxi joined in, having a good ogle at my virtuoso strumping performance.

“Go on mate – give ‘er the rough stuff!…” One guard cheered…entranced by the hypnotic rhythmn of my shafting skills.

“Oooh yeah, she loves it, the dirty bitch!” another yelped enthusiastically, whilst they applauded and patted each other on the back, all the time Emma was bucking and writhing under my frenzied thrustage. Maxi chuckled and quietly watched on.

“Ooh look, she’s turning over, ‘es gonna give it to ‘er from behind! Go on mate...up the arse!” They chanted, drooling at this X-rated display that they were actually getting paid to watch.

So there I was, completely oblivious but possessed by some sort of spicy splooge-god...I helped turn Emma onto all fours and resumed thrunging, until just as I was approaching the Jester’s shoes…Emma arched her back, tossed her long locks behind her head dramatically, and as she frothily came, the open mouthed, gasping-in-ecstacy expression on her pretty face stared right into the camera for all to see.

At this point, With Emma's lovely features clearly on view, the Casino Manager said with a laugh to one of his fellow voyeuristic (& Brontosaurus-sized) colleagues:

“Hey, you know what, Pete?…That girl looks a lot like….”

...

…………oh”

He was then cut off by the massive Security Guard as his beady eyes widened to the size of satellite dishes and the penny finally dropped...making the huge man bellow with a piercing roar:

"THAT’S MY FUCKING DAUGHTER!"

*silence*

Maxi: “Ooh fucking hell”.

Suddenly you could hear a pin drop in the tiny control booth, and all eyes are slowly turned back to the gurning pneumatic pump-action Pooflake, proudly pummelling away, and still finding it difficult to believe his luck (or longevity).

The stunned, hanging silence is then shattered by a deafening “I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM!” shouted by the gargantuan gorilla of a guard as he turns on his heels and reaches for the door handle.

The manager then extends his arm, stopping him in his tracks and says: “Hold on mate – you can’t do that…It’s not like he's ‘raping’ her or anything…”

Guard: ”YOU FUCKING WHAT?”

Manager: “In fact...it looks to me like she’s quite enjoying it”

Guard: “RIGHT! – THAT’S…FUCKING…IT!”

With that, two of the other guards reached out and each grabbed one of the potential murderer's arms (obviously wanting to avoid the administrative ball-ache of filling out statements and wotnot on my unpleasant demise). In the ensuing struggle, the manager screeches to Maxi,” If you want your mate to see another day…get him the fuck out of here…NOW!”

Maxi duly sprinted off like a whippet on whizz to find me…and relay to me the immortal line at the beginning of this post, after which I was promptly dragged off into the night to have the situation explained to me in a taxi, whilst Emma stayed behind.

Weeks later I returned to Leaicester, saw Emma again and finally got to speak to her…It turned out that although she was also 21 at the time, her over-protective dad still treated her like a child and had actually ‘grounded’ her. She had decided, in her own inimitable fashion, to go out anyway and teach him a stark lesson once and for all, that she was now well and truly a grown woman…with fully operational lady bits and everything...

She explained that although it was a spunk-of-the-moment idea, she knew perfectly well what she was doing...just as she knew that her dad would be able to see her gratefully grunting on the arse end of a Pooflake-powered-pork-portion.

She didn’t give a shit about what her dad would have done to me though…Apparently my meagre life was a worthwhile sacrifice for the cause of 'taking a stand'.

On learning this revelation I felt like a sex toy...used…dirty…violated.

And it felt absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 27 Apr 2009, 11:36, 12 replies)

Fantastic...
... as ever. Good show sir.

I'm going to add "Vagina decliner" into my lexicon.

Also the line "started schlong-slapping my Loch-ness love monster like a mongoose taunting a startled spaff-spitting King Cobra" made me titter helplessly.

*click*
(Rotimer was micturating windward at, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 12:23, closed)

So where exactly will I find this video on the internet?
.
( girlinthehole, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 12:48, closed)

.
Here
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 13:39, closed)

Clunge/lunge/sponge
*unlurks*
*smirks*
*clurks*
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 27 Apr 2009, 13:45, closed)

I like this!
I do!!
(CannedLaughter, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 13:48, closed)

Cheers
for bringing sunshine to my life and a warm glow to my heart...

(This nearly made me piss myself - in a good way)...
( SpankyHanky, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 14:44, closed)

Oh God
This is glorious. You have a gift for making a grown man cry with laughter, you know that?
(TheManWhoWas SlightlyKnackered, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 15:21, closed)

Two more for the repertoire...
"lunge for her clunge"

"vagina decliner"

Nice work as ever, Mr Lake
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 16:06, closed)

What can I say
Poetry, sheer poetry.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 17:14, closed)

I was half expecting a pun
I'm glad there wasn't though. Nicely told!

*Clickety*
( Anthropos Was making beer on, Mon 27 Apr 2009, 18:04, closed)

Nah...

wait til Thursday for the shit puns...
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 29 Apr 2009, 10:37, closed)

I loved it mate :-D
especially the phrase "approaching the Jester’s shoes" which I will be using today, if at all possible.

*click*

On another note, you're starting to sound like the pervert's Dr Seuss. Now that's a compliment.
( chart cat has an itch, Tue 28 Apr 2009, 5:43, closed)