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This is a question Bedroom Disasters

Big Girl's Blouse asks: Drug fuelled orgies ending in a pile of vomit? Accidental spillage of Chocolate Pudding looking like a dirty protest? Someone walking in on you doing something that isn't what it looks like?... Tell us about your Bedroom Disasters

(, Thu 23 Jun 2011, 15:14)
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This question is now closed.

I used to own a hotel in Istanbul
The rooms weren't very big and the ceilings were very low, so I used to get frequent complaints from some of the taller customers.
Anyway, I got fed up with this so I hired a local heavy to 'deal' with the complaining and told him to rip 'em a new one if anyone did so.
And that was my headroom tears ass Turk.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 15:27, 3 replies)
Right Then!
At a charity auction, I accidently bought a signed Everton top whilst absentmindedly tracing random letters of the alphabet in the air with my index finger. It was my…ahem… Bid Roo M disaster.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 15:15, 1 reply)
Surfing the net on my lappy in my bedroom
When I visited the B3ta website.

What a disaster that turned out to be.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 15:13, Reply)
I dreamt I was eating a pillow and when I woke up my giant marshmallow was gone.

(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 14:57, 2 replies)
I once failed to make some Viking writing out of glass baubles.
That was my bead rune disaster.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 14:44, Reply)
I once drank an entire bottle of Captain Morgan then woke up naked next to the inventor of the televison
Now that was a real Baird rum disaster.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 14:40, 1 reply)
When I was but 17
I was involved in a threesome. Well, I say 'involved'. I was just having a wank whilst listening to the neighbours have noisy sex.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 14:29, 2 replies)
Whilst practicing the timpani in the buff, I managed to smack myself in the balls with the mallet.
That was my bare drum disaster.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 14:22, 19 replies)

A fireman comes home from work & says to his wife that they have a new system at work and that he wants to use it in the bedroom.

Bell 1 means put on jackets. Bell 2 jump on engine & so on.
So he says they shall do the same in the bedroom.
Bell 1 means strip naked.
Bell 2, jump on bed.
Bell 3, make mad love.
That night he says “Bell 1″ & she strips. “Bell 2″ she jumps on bed. “Bell 3″ they start to make love. She then shouts “Bell 4!”
He asks “Whats Bell 4?”
She replies “Roll out more hose you’re nowhere near the fucking fire!”
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 13:26, 24 replies)
Once I was close to a threesome.
It was right next door.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 13:07, 1 reply)
this one time at bedroom camp it was soooo funny
i had the job of being the duvet and everything i touched turned to creme cheese and
no wait
er hang on
we all had to dress up as 4 year olds and hide no thats not it
but it was so crazy and mad you wouldn't believe me its just like o m g and everything
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 12:45, Reply)
Stiletto heel- bumhole-likely story-BIG ouch REPOST

An ex of mine was a big fan of those long spikey bastard heels that made a clacking sound when walked in and also had the annoying habit of leaving them lying around on my bedroom floor.
One afternoon after a particularly frenzied and prolonged sex session I found myself lying in bed reflecting on the recent coupling when, while the young lady in question was in the bathroom sorting out the awful mess Id made of her, I decided I wanted to put the telly on.
Leaning over to my my bedside table to get the remote I misjudged the distance completely resulting in me leaning too far and falling out of bed-
'I see' says the reader 'thats hardly a particularly ouchy moment is it fuck face?'
thing is I somehow manged to fall bottom first directly onto the upturned heels previously mentioned -impaling myself and also uttering a quite hideous, loud and pitiful scream.
I still graphically remember the look on this poor girl's face as she returned from the bathroom to find her new boyfriend writhing in agony with one of her high heeled shoes inserted into his anus.

It took me hours to convince her it was actually an accident too.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 10:43, 34 replies)
Imagine yourself at Lancaster University in 2001. Just for a minute.

Bloke meets girl on college bar crawl. Bloke and girl get snogging, bloke and girl decide to have sex in her room.

They go back to the room and the girl prepares a lovely nightcap, some sort of warmed mysterious liqueur that the guy hasn't experienced before, but it goes down very well apparently.

What happened immediately after that is rather inconsequential, I believe that they had mediocre-to-good sex, and fell asleep together.


Chap wakes up early the next morning to a rather unsavoury smell, and a feeling of unwelcome and unexpected groinal warmth. He looks down and realises he is wearing a nappy. A full nappy.

Is terrified. Tries to leave without waking girl but she catches him and starts desperately trying to pull off the nappy, and this is the lovely part, she was screaming "Good baby, good baby!!".

She eventually rips the nappy off and sets about wiping the contents all over herself. Man leaves. Man cries. Man has a shower.

So they tell me.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 7:57, 21 replies)

Back in the day a good mate of mine got off with this cute but slightly scary goth bird when we were all out down the local. She was all over him and apparently full of how she was going to ride him like seabiscuit all night long so they curtail the evenings festivities and head back to our shared flat.
Before they started getting really heated she explained to him that she liked to be treated a bit rough, so he decide to go with it grabs her and flings her onto the bed. Where she promptly bounced off, hit her head on the radiator beside it and was knocked out cold. Poor bastard spent the rest of the night in casualty getting her checked out and never did get to give her one.

I had another mate who when visiting his old uni town (with the guy above funnily enough) , got well and truly hammered and yet still somehow managed to pull, went back to hers for a fun night and woke up with screaming hangover and intense sense of deja vu. Turned out that she rented the exact same room that he had lived in 2 years previously anf he had been too pissed the night before to really notice. Even freakier, one of his prior flatmates was still living there and was somewhat confused when J wandered downstairs for breakfast.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 4:38, Reply)
Perhaps a roasted legume?
I've had all sorts of disasters in the bedroom, from teenage fires, to ejaculating with the window cleaner.

I shall keep this short and sweet.

I was boffing a bird.

We had a fall out.

I boffed a new girl.

Old girl came to my (halls of residence) room demanding laptop back.

New bird got stuffed in wardrobe.

Old bird did tour of duty checking room.

We made up the next day. However I did find out that telling her I creamed my cracker in the canine position meant that position was never on the books again. For 3 years. Good job I guess... fucking hate it.
(, Tue 28 Jun 2011, 0:59, 2 replies)
I made my mark
The look a friend gave me when she entered the kitchen with the bedding I had used while staying the night in their spare room made it very clear that the previous night's hand shandy output had not entirely been caught by the sock.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 22:44, Reply)
I lost my cherry
Well, as it has been a while since I've posted on my favourite board and laughed at the misfortunes of many poor souls, I figured I'd share one of my more embarrassing stories and share with my friends.

I was 16, just started College and was keen to have fun as I was getting very well acquainted with booze and many new people. Going to a different College to one of my very good friends wasn't a bad thing for me as he lived literally a couple of minutes down the road and I got to meet his friends as well as my new friends and all went out as a collective. After several weeks of College and me imminently turning 17, I was invited to a rather large house party, which was a new experience for me. Me and my pal eagerly took the train to the next town over from ours and met up with a large congregation at the train platform who I soon became acquainted with. After sharing some cigarettes, light-hearted banter and some girls already flashing their breasts showing off their new nipple piercings, I felt quite confident and sure that nothing but good was going to come out of this night.

I bought my 8 pack of Boddingtons [No irony, I assure you] and figured I would be well on my way, and if not I can always help myself to the MASSES of drink there. Anyway, we arrived at the house, and it was a lovely venue which was tucked away, large and full of obtainable/drunk women. I dare say there were approximately 100 people there and it was incredibly chilled out night and everyone was having a good night and pairing off.

Roughly 7 tins in, I was outside having a cigarette and starting talking to a rather average looking female who looked appealing through my new goggles and my testosterone riddled body. We hit it off well and she giggled at my jokes and made it clear that we were getting along just fine. After probably annoying a lot of people via gratuitous groping and heavy petting, we decided to go upstairs. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I was tremendously excited by the whole affair. Anyway, I shall get to the point [no pun intended]. After much fumbling and some severe facepalm inducing moments, I managed to get John Thomas into the destination. After some well intentional but rather poor thrusting and manoeuvring, I was rudely interrupted by the door opening and a middle aged woman walking in and making eye contact with an intoxicated youth who was grinning stupidly, in her bed, balls deep in some Jezebel who stank of the devils brew. She backed out not uttering a word, covering her mouth and walking away. Using this as an excuse to end my cringe-worthy act of lust, I burst out laughing and pulled up my trousers and walked off giggling all the way down the steps and continued with my night with my good friend and some of his buddies. I remember very little else of that night.

I later found out that I, your humble narrator, was doing my dirty deed in the host’s mother’s bed, and she was either a vicar, or married to a vicar. I never did get the answer to that. I never heard of any consequences or follow up to it either. Nor did I see the host ever again, and I was subsequently banned from any other social occasions at his residence. God fearing kill joy!

Also, the girl said I was rubbish in bed. How I laughed when I first heard and openly agreed, but it was still one of the funniest/awkward moments in my life which always makes me smile.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 22:37, 22 replies)
it was horrific
turquoise walls, a yellow carpet and a brown duvet cover.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 21:28, 13 replies)
How I ruined a perfectly good threesome
Once upon a not-too-long time ago, I attended a party. It was ostensibly a picnic, which entailed eating a few Doritos and filling up on Bloody Marys. While outside, of course. That's how it was a picnic, not a piss-up.

Later, as the evening grew colder, we withdrew indoors and switched from Bloody Marys to red wine. My stomach clamoured for food. My stomach wept at the sheer quantities of alcohol. I ignored its cries, for I was perched on the sofa with two good friends of mine, and the snogging and stroking gave fairly blatant clues that a threesome was on the cards.

He was bookish and sweet and a thoroughly brilliant lay. She was crazy-awesome-intense and I suspected she would be a thoroughly brilliant lay.

Sending the rest of the party out for a game of midnight cricket, my sexual comrades and I found our moment.

"Queen of Cheesecake," wailed my stomach, plaintively, like a distraught five year old, "please feed me. I don't feel very well."

"Not now, I'm busy," I replied, taking off my clothes and getting stuck into some rather enthusiastic cunnilingus.

We fucked, the three of us. Dimly through the fug of bodies, we heard the cricketers come in, buoyed by their sixes and LBWs and inpentrable slang.

We continued fucking.

Occasionally, like a five year old on a long car journey, my stomach complained. I ignored it.

Suddenly, I broke out in a sweat, and my guts turned from whining toddler to a vengeful deity of old. I struggled to hold myself together, tapping out from the fucking to assume a more spectatorial position. My stomach cackled. I breathed slowly until the vicious cramping subsided.

"Can you grab us a condom?" one of my threesome friends asked.

I was feeling slightly better. I stood to cross the room.

Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.

The sudden shift in position caused my angry digestive system to seek its bloody revenge. Suddenly, two bottles of red wine and a river of Bloody Mary decided to eject itself forcibly.

I searched desperately for something to cover myself with, cheeks bulging with red liquid sick. I could not let the cricketers see me in such a state of indignity.

One of my sexual comrades handed me a dressing gown. Red liquid sick dribbled sadly down my chin. I dashed to the bathroom to clean myself up and resume the hot fucking.

I cannot stress enough how awesome the fucking had been until that point.

I vomited copiously. I swear I could hear my stomach chuckle.

"Fuck you, Queen of Cheesecake," it said. "That's the last time you'll ignore me."

I returned, feeling heaps better. My stomach had made its point. We reconciled, an uneasy peace, but peace nonetheless.

"Why's everyone dressed?" I asked.

My sexual comrades shook their heads sadly.

"Come on, take it off again?"

My sexual comrades shook their heads sadly.

We marched back to the party. Nobody spoke of the threesome I had ruined. It didn't seem polite.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 20:25, 28 replies)
If one is good, why not three?
Many years ago (probably before most B3tan's were even conceived, a young Maclir and his girlfriend were feeling amorous... well, to be completely honest, our raging teenage hormones had turned us into the extreme of horniness. After waiting for what seemed like decades (actually, only a few months), we decided that we had to do the deed. Late one night, I drive several miles (and four suburbs away) to an all night chemist, and obtained the necessary box of a dozen condoms.

One afternoon just after that, when no one else was around, we decided that THIS WAS THE DAY. After lots of foreplay, she rolled a condom on to my erect, but virginal penis. Then she though, "No, I really don't want to get pregnant", and rolled a second franger on over the first. Just as I was about to plunge my well wrapped todger into her virginal honey pot, she said "Wait, I really REALLY don't want to get pregnant", and rolled a third onto my wet-check (TM) clad willie.

Finally - yes - I was inside her. Several minutes later (and one or two orgasms on her behalf...) I was still inside her. More thrusting, more in and out... bugger me, I couldn't feel a thing through the three layers of Ansell's most popular product. She was getting dry and sore, and I was exhausted.

At least we both lost our virginity together - and the next time, a few days later, was far more successful.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 18:24, 1 reply)
Only last
week, my bed caught fire, and the firebrigade had to climb up 35 flights of stairs pulling hoses behind them. Their progress was hampered by a 747, on which both pilots had eaten fish and got convulsive food poisoning, crashing through the window, spilling burning jet fuel into the huge crevice opened up in the floor by an earthquake.

Fortunately, the following Tsunami quenched the conflagration, but almost immediately afterwards the celing collased when a meteorite hit the house. Several firemen were trapped, and it turns out one of them was carrying a nuclear bomb, and the shockwaves had set off the timer on it.

A bald bloke climed in bravely, but he cut the fucking BLUE wire on the bomb, and it went off, spreading radiation all over the room, and onto the landing outside. This caused widespread radiation sickness within the herd of wildebeast that had strayed from their traditional migration path into my house, because the Army had set a cordon across the plain they use, to isolate the herd of ebola carrying monkeys that had escaped a forest fire.

My Mum was fucking furious when she got home.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 16:50, 11 replies)
The unholy trinity
Have a pea

A group of us went out one Friday night for a few beers. My friend Kevin brought his work colleague / bit on the side with him to meet everyone. I shall call her Laura for that is her name. She seemed nice enough but really tiny and in need of a burger or something.
The night gets very messy and and we decide to head back to mine to carry on the night.

A few hours later and we were all pretty out of it and having a great night.
Laura decides she needs to use the bathroom so she gets up and promptly falls over backwards (no idea how she managed that) onto the glass coffee table sending cans of lager flying everywhere. She was wearing a teeny mini skirt so everyone was fully aware at that point she was wearing knickers

Anyway....a while later, Laura decides she’s had enough and needs to lie down so I let her sleep in my bed. Another friend of ours had already passed out in my room and I knew I wouldn’t need it for a while yet so I offer her my very comfy king size bed for the next few hours.

At 11am we decide to head to the pub. I go into my room to try and wake the sleeping beauties to get them to come to the pub with us.
My friend was where I’d left him on top of the duvet and Laura was tucked up under it. I could not believe the smell in there. I assumed my friend had done a lot of beer farts and I opened the window.

We head down the pub and after a while those two join us. I kept joking that the brown stain that had appeared on the back of Lauras leg was shit. But someone said it may have been where she fell on the table and hurt herself.
Laura was still wasted and after a half of lager she sat on a high bar stool and gave us a flash. She was no longer wearing knickers. We decided to send her home.

After a few hours I felt shocking and really wanted to head back to my lovely king size bed and sleeeeeeep.
I got home and threw back the covers only to discover a soggy skiddy shit on the side of the bed Laura had slept on. To make matters worse, she’d obviously pissed herself AND come on her period too.
She tried to blame it on my friend (who’d slept on the other side and on top of the duvet) when I called her. She didn’t seem bothered at all.

She paid for a new duvet and mattress but still blamed my friend.

I’d love to know where she’d thrown those skiddy knickers
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 14:25, 4 replies)
She grabbed it to put it in her,
And I came.

Mom was really pissed off.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 14:10, Reply)
Do... Not... Move...
I'd recently started seeing a new girlfriend, and we were still at the "shagging at every reasonable opportunity and quite a few unreasonable ones" stage. Now, she had a 4-year-old daughter, so we had become adept at timing our encounters to match the duration of Teletubbies, for example*.

One fine morning, with the sun streaming through the windows we were enjoying a damn fine shag, when without warning her daughter bursts into the room. Luckily we were still under the covers; I was on top. Seeing us, frozen in horror and still balls-deep, the little poppet ran over, jumped onto my back and said "Let's play horsey!"

I remember thinking "If I move so much as a muscle, I'm probably committing a serious offence".

No nonce jokes, please - it was strictly the mother I was interested in. Mind you, the daughter is 17 now...

* I still get a chubby whenever I hear "Eh-Oh"...
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 14:04, 5 replies)
Sleep Hitler...
It's been a long time since i've posted but then perhaps my life isn't interesting enough to warrent it. However I do have a story that fits both the current QOTW and the last one.
The regular reocurrence of this condition should long ago have convinced the mrs to leave me but apparently she is made of stronger stuff.
I'm sure many of you have experienced the unsettling feeling of waking up with your legs raised and the unsettling feeling of falling. Well I too share this problem. With my arms. For I am a sleep hitler, so named by the gf and I because my right arm regularly reaches up at a 90 degree angle when I am asleep for no reason known to man. Often when this happens it falls down behind my head during the night, so when I wake in my post sleep confusion I cannot feel my arm and feel around where it should be, inducing a mild panic when I think it has disappeared, until shaking the post sleep fog I start at the shoulder, lift it up and shake some life and blood back into it (fnar Fnar).
Other times however, my strangelove esque condition has a far more sinister aim. The gf always sleeps on that side and often when Im asleep will snuggle on to my chest for warmth and reasurrance or something...(women eh? what do they want...)
And when I wake up the stray hand falls and smacks her right in the face.
Try explaining that to her concerned father when she comes home sporting a black eye.

I've also apparently attempted to strangle her in my sleep the night I returned from a 2 month field excursion sharing cramped accommodation with the most infuriating manchild of a colleague I've ever known.

I genuinely fear for her safety.
I'd make a length joke but it's surprisingly hard to measure your own arm
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 13:59, 10 replies)
One bloke on our work team was gay
Not flamboyantly so, not camp, but some people hadn't quite caught on. In particular, one shaven-headed mongoloid.
"i just don't get why you would go in dry," the bloke declared loudly one day while reading The Sun. There was an article on male rape, and it had grabbed this guy's attention. "Urgh! Why?"
Some around him looked uneasy, a few eyes flicked around. "give it a rest," someone yelled.
"But I don't get it!" he still shouted. "WHY would you go in dry?"
And from the corner of the office, sipping from a pink mug, came a gentle voice:
"Better grip."

The slow grinding in the mongoloid's head as he put two and two together was audible.
(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 13:59, 5 replies)
Maybe SuperSam11 will post his blog again?

(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 13:11, 7 replies)
I had sex once

(, Mon 27 Jun 2011, 13:09, 15 replies)

This question is now closed.

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