Bedroom Disasters? I've got them in spades - have a pea:
In my late teens, I started going out with a vicar's daughter, and, as the relationship developed, I was invited to the vicarage for the weekend.

While the vicar and his wife were absolutely lovely, they couldn't have made their position on our relationship more clear: my girlfriend's room was at that end of a huge long corridor, and mine was at the other end, right next to the parents' bedroom.

While that wasn't too daunting in itself - all teenagers become adept at parent-evasion - I hadn't banked on the fact that the vicarage still had the old WWII black-out curtains which, I found out quickly, were employed each evening still.

So at about 2am, having stayed up with my girlfriend "watching telly" (and pretty well only that as it happens), I go to bed.

It is pitch black in the corridor - absolutely no light. She closed her door, and I was in complete darkness - not even vague light from reflections downstairs.

OK. I know my room's at the end. I walk fowards cautiously, my hands in front of me, and, reaching what feels to be the end of the corridor, turn to my right and go into the room.

Now, over-excited with the teenage horn, on my arrival I'd just thrown my bag on the bed and been done with it, so where the light switch is I have no idea.

Thus I start the tedious process of feeling my way around the room, trying to find some form of illumination. Instead - happily - I find the bed, and therefore strip to my shorts and start to get in, to be greeted by her mother screaming "WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!", her father banging the light on and the sight of myself in the mirror opposite with an erection dressed in only my shorts getting entangled rapidly in the blankets as I try desperately to run away from everything ever for the rest of my life.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 24 Jun 2011, 10:39, 3 replies)

did it last?
no not the 'rection
did you geta chance to worship at her holy pulpit
( fluffybunnykiller Is feasting on the clitoris of life, Fri 24 Jun 2011, 11:55, closed)

I managed to get my fingers before we split up
But it would be another year before I discovered violence, rohypnol and gaffer tape would actually get to do "it".
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 24 Jun 2011, 12:06, closed)

ahh every mans 3 best friends

( fluffybunnykiller Is feasting on the clitoris of life, Fri 24 Jun 2011, 16:00, closed)