Starry Eyed Surprise
A few regenerations ago I was female – a tall, ivory-skinned, green-eyed, copper-haired goddess. I was hotter than a Pyrovile’s pants and all genders of all species lusted after me. Hell, I often think of going back in time and shagging myself, and will one day, when I’ve worked out how to counteract the Blinovitch Limitation Effect.

Back then I was working for the Braxiatel Collection as Offworlder Liaison Officer, a pretty sweet job, and one of the most relaxing and untroubled periods of my life. That was until I met HER. The woman who broke both my hearts: Bernice Surprise Summerfield. She was (and still is) a human archaeologist, tall and skinny with short black hair, a deadpan wit and a liking for booze of all sorts. The moment I saw her I knew I wanted her.

It started off as jealousy. You see, she used to travel around with that time travelling twunt the Doctor, and she still saw him from time to time. I knew he’d fucked her, and wanted a piece of that. I watched her stride around the gardens of the Collection so mature and assured looking, and imagined her naked, completely at my mercy – in a good, sexy way. In this incarnation I was actually quite nice – as well as looking like a hot redhead female humanoid, I also had no tendencies towards torture like other of my incarnations. My intentions towards Bernice Summerfield were pure... well... almost! I just wanted to eat her out for hours and hours on end until her fanny was a sopping wet quivering flesh-lettuce and my face was slathered in her juices, and I wanted her to do the same to me.

My TARDIS was disguised as a piece of topiary in the Taran Gardens on the Collection, but I lived in the main building as it was a secret that I (and Irving Braxiatel) were Time Lords. One day I had cause to go to my TARDIS to fetch a meson particle scanner Brax wanted for some reason of his own. Looking back I think the whole thing might have been a set-up, or a joke; crafty bugger, that Brax, always playing games within games within games. It was very late at night and the whole asteroid was lit only by the stars. I was about to enter when I heard a slurred voice behind me:

‘I recognishe that humming... that’sh a TARDISH, izzzn’t it?’

It was Bernice. She was pissed. Not unusual. I’d been rumbled – but I decided to take advantage of the situation. ‘Yes, it is! And I am a Time Lord,’ I said, bearing down on the tipsy archaeologist. I draped my arms around her neck and breathed into her ear: ‘Ever fucked a Time Lord?’

She sort of melted into my arms and we kissed. Soon we were back in my room exploring each other’s bodies. Her cunt was beautiful, with exquisite coral pink labia, and pubic hair cut short (I hate a hairy bush). I licked and fingered her to orgasm and then sat on her face whilst her eager tongue explored my Gallifreyan gash. She actually managed to make me come – only one other humanoid (Lord Byron) had ever achieved that! In the afterglow I poured more wine down her throat and slipped her a tab of Retcon. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Over breakfast, I asked her if she remembered anything about the night before. Of course, she didn’t, just a vague memory of mind-blowing sex. We fingered each other to orgasm again, and then went our separate ways, my secret safe once more.

But that wasn’t the end of it – obviously, or I wouldn’t be posting a story here. To my complete dismay, I fell in love with her.

For the next week we kept bumping in to each other, with embarrassed smiles and glances of longing and lust. Over a meal in Cafe Vosta, we decided that we could not ignore this thing and embarked upon a full-on affair. The sex was incredible. I worshipped her cunt, it was the most beautiful flower in the universe, it smelled and tasted of warm buttered toast and honey. She loved my tits best of all – whilst hers were small-ish, no more than a handful, mine were substantial udders of satisfying weight and proportion to my frame. She would spend hours chewing and slobbering over my nipples, sending jactitating waves of pleasure shuddering through me. I loved her thin wiry frame, she adored my fulsome curvaceous body with its ivory white skin and ginger hair (collars and cuffs) and legs that went on for miles and miles. Yes, as the classic Terran song went, we were deeply dippy for each other. I used to walk around with a smidgeon of her crab tears smeared under my nose, just so I could smell her all of the time.

It couldn’t last. These things never do, for me. I was a Time Lord, she human, and if we stayed together I would have to watch her age and die; or she would have to watch me regenerate and become, physically anyway, a totally different person, maybe even a different gender (for the record, I have been female twice, mostly male, and I am currently male). But things didn’t get to that stage, probably fortunately.

When the break-up came it was sudden and against both our wishes. One night, we over-indulged on a crate of Chateau Yquatine, broke into the Collection and went fuck-crazy in the Alien Sex Toys section. We took a couple of Varosian juicing tabs each, stripped and dived into an Arcturan Jizzcuzzi, rogered each other senseless with a Floranan Double-Ended Dildo, and walked around giggling and gasping with Jocondan Love Eggs shoved up our dripping fannies. Things got out of hand when we activated a pair of Pudendolls and watched them rampaging and rutting in heat, knocking over the exhibits and making one hell of a racket. A racket that brought Security crashing down around our sweating, flushed, satiated bodies.

Brax went apeshit. We had caused untold grotzits of damage, and brought scandal and shame to the Collection. One of us had to go. I knew it was me. As a Time Lord, I should have known better. So I agreed to leave.

Benny and I and I spent one last blissful day together in the Garden of Whispers, just holding each other, no sex. I was scheduled to leave on the evening shuttle run – of course, I was really going to leave in my TARDIS, but we had to indulge in a little deception to keep my Time Lord identity secret. Oh how I longed to tell her I was really a Time Lord! How I longed to take her away with me as my companion, just as that bastarding Doctor had done!

But it was not to be. Disguised in a long hooded cloak pretending to be one of the Order of Zbi-Quickity, I watched from Benny from the edge of the spaceport as she watched the shuttle she thought I was on lift off and sail away into the stars.

She stood there for a long time, face upturned to the heavens, just looking up at the point where the shuttle had vanished beyond sight. I stood and watched her for as long as I could stand it, then I stumbled sobbing to my TARDIS and left the Collection for ever. I set the controls to Temporal Orbit and sat in the Cloister Room for days, crying my hearts out. When the tears finally dried I went to 19th Century Earth and fucked around for a bit. Lord Byron was very supportive (and a great lay as usual).

I never saw her again.

I could see her at any time – travel to any point on her timeline. See her as a baby. See her as an old crone. See her grave.

But I can’t. Even for a Time Lord, some wounds never heal.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 19:47, 21 replies)

Favorite artist I reject the romantic advances of mine.
b3ta.com/board/10700424
How it is necessary to approach them in order without scaring my feelings away, usually the make know? I hate to forgive the bullying people. Even If you care, Original receiver will not accept. Of course serious. Its not joke.
(spanishfly 2, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 17:23, 14 replies)

Unfortunately she just wouldn't stay about from the bin men.
:(
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 15:54, 4 replies)

All these stories..
Are they all about the same five people I have known?
(lordy lordy, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 12:21, 9 replies)

The dawning moment
It was in the first months of a new relationship when everything is going brilliantly and life is like floating around on big sweet marshmallows that you can take bites of when ever you want and they won't make you fat.

Having one of those in depth conversations about life, love and philosophy when she asked me the question,

- "Would you tell me if you cheated on me"?

With a naive smile and trying to be a bit of a joker - "Don't ask don't tell", I replied.

"OH, Thank God"! she said.

Apparently it just happened 10 or 11 times over several weeks........
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 9:52, 12 replies)

Have a pea - I broke up with this chick a long time ago - so it's more relevant than Ringofmisserypuppets
Gummy Mummy

Remember that time when you could have sex with school girls and not be thought a pedo, you know, before you crossed the line from teen to twenties, mmmmmmmmmmmmmm……………….

Sorry,

Anyway, back at that time when I had a delightful, soft skinned, perky breasted year 12 student, and being the mighty stud I was with over 15000 fucks to my name, and 3 of them weren’t even in the solo class, I found that her ability for knob gobbling was just not up to that standard I had come imagine. Being the sensitive 19 year old male, drunk on his own testosterone, I fucking told her so, and left her in no doubt that she either shape up or it was out on your arse. Of course not really knowing what I was talking about I couldn’t provide any instruction on what I liked or give her tips on what needed to improve (in fact despite endless informal research of blow jobs via porn films in the proceeding years, I hadn’t even figured that the girls spit on the love wand as more moisture the better, but, my naivety is story for another day).

A few days later we met up for a night of sophisticated activity (she came to my place to watch telly and drink cheap wine) which culminated in heading to the bed room for a bit horizontal folk dancing, started with the most mind bending session of dirtying her knees. Of course I wanted to know how in the space of 3 days she had developed such skills that would get a golf ball through 9 yards of hosepipe, and she told me she had asked someone who pointed her in the right direction. I was too pleased with the process to ask more questions.

The following night we had dinner her at her place. Her Dad was working but, her old girl was home. I didn’t quite know how to respond when her mum asked me directly if I had any further issue with her daughter’s “dick sucking methods”.

As soon as I had my girl her on her own, I asked what the fuck she had said to her mum.

Apparently after my ultimatum she had a sit down with her mum and dad.
She had asked if they knew about sucking cocks, which apparently they did.


She had asked “what Dad liked” ,


and her mum had showed her.


With a carrot.

If the old girl hadn’t been a 120kg, ugly as fuck, Scottish harpy I might have had a crack at the master considering the action of the student.

Still explains why her old man smiled vacantly a lot.

Length, 8 inch girth and 13 inches long, fucking huge carrot.
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Sun 15 Sep 2013, 9:44, 10 replies)

Not me, but my friend
She had been dating this guy for about a year, and was utterly smitten. One night he took her out for dinner, as he had something to talk about. She was really excited, as she thought he was going to ask her to move in with him.

They sat down, and after a bit, he got to the inevitable point. Said it wasn't her, it was him. He just needed to try something new. Something different.

Like what? she sobbed. Are you gay? Are you going travelling?

Oh no, he replied. He just thought it was time he was with someone more..... BLONDE. And as she stared at him in disbelief, he went on.......

"please don't misunderstand me. The very last thing I'm saying is that you should go off and dye your hair".
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sat 14 Sep 2013, 20:38, 30 replies)

I'd had a long and pleasant and fulfilling relationship with the old girl
lasting about 6 years. She was exotic (half English, half Japanese), reliable, fun, exciting, but also dependable when there was a lot of shit to go through. Unfortunately as time went on she was getting more and more expensive to keep. I kept having to shell out for new stuff for her and at the same time she was showing her age, she got progressively slower and less and less fun. So I reluctantly had to let her go and got myself a zestier younger model. Swedish, can you believe? She had a lovely purr. But I digress.

I did feel a bit of a heel for doing it to her but after a while it was obvious that there was a breakdown just around the corner. I still think back to her occasionally with fond memories but the past is the past.

I still really miss my old '94 plate Rover 620.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Sat 14 Sep 2013, 18:53, 7 replies)

i'm sure ringofyre just had a whiny, self-indulgent post up here.
he must have deleted it in a fit of childish pique. for the lols, obvs.
( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Sat 14 Sep 2013, 7:48, 10 replies)

A leopard never changes his scabs
We had been together for 3 months and I thought things had been going pretty well so far.
Sat together in a pub early one evening, I was told that he "may" have given me crabs from someone else but I have no right to complain because we never explicitly said we couldn't screw other people on the side (how naive of me to assume, eh?).

Bumped into each other in a club a few years later, after the usual awkward bumped-in-to-your-ex pleasantries (including talking about our current partners) I noticed a strange mark on his face

"What's that?"
"Oh, just a bit of impetigo... can I kiss you?"

I made a sharp exit!
(DaftenDirekt, Sat 14 Sep 2013, 1:16, 3 replies)

Going out with a whimper not a bang.
I've been here for a few years now (in one incarnation or another) doing what I do. Mostly sifting thru the dusty catacombs of my mind to come up with an original, sometimes funny, sometimes poignant tale to tell based upon the weeks question. I guessing that I'm about 50/50 for the ratio of my stories that have made front-page (since that seems to be the goal). Tho my luck has been with me for the past few weeks!
Occasionally I've scraped the bottom of the barrel and posted an awful pun or two - but nothing completely unforgivable.
I also occasionally tip my hat at doing some truly awful gimp work for the odd Image Challenge.

Over the last year or two I found myself getting sick and tired of all the negative, shit-flinging, often personal attacks from the trolls (including some genuinely appalling things said about my wife and daughter - unsurprisingly mostly from AB and rory... figures). If you don't know who the "trolls" are by now then you're probably one of them. Sometimes I would try to take some of them on at their own game. A few times I even crossed the line myself - but in my defence if I did I made sure to apologise promptly and publicly for doing so. And there are some lines I refuse to cross, like posting RL info (not for the wealth of it if you know where to look) but personally I think that shows a level of bastardry and immaturity that goes beyond trolling.
EDIT:& criticizing posters family for the way they look, regardless of whether they are b3tans or not. I personally think that having a dig at "non-combatants" as it were is not the gentlemanly thing to do. But that's just my view. I have however reveled in giving some people shit for being skinny little gits or having inordinately large facial features! So there is that.

Then AB reposted what was probably one of the first stories I posted (having lurked for a few years before that!) - http://b3ta.com/questions/breakingup/post2085223 - to those who took the time to read it rather than just childishly seek an opportunity to stir shit, they managed to glean the tale and responded in an appropriate way.
It kinda brought me full circle tho.
Here's a man who is so ensconced in the "tee-hee-hee, lets tease that guy" school-yard bully mentality that he actively trawls thru this site collating links from stories and posts to build up a compendium of links in order to repost them regularly just to shit-stir and tease. That to me isn't cool, or even funny. It's fucking creepy.
It's a pity tho 'cause last week he managed to do a good, gross post which did answer the question - albeit the first in quite a few months now.

And then there's BraynDedd.
This charming fellow seems to think it's ok to post my RL details here as tho it's a funny joke.
Now I'm not that hard to find - a simple google search of my original username (the one that got stolen by Brigadier) will pretty much tell you all there is to know about me (including my OkCupid page!). I myself have done the same with a few people here. It's not that hard.
But... and herein lies the difference I think that posting those sort of details (even RL names) is both dangerous and exceedingly immature (I'm pretty sure that's what /b on 4chan devolved into). Yet BD seems to thinks it's funny and a good stir. And he seems to get away with it with impunity on this seemingly unmoderated board. As far as I know it is basically an unwritten rule (couldn't find it in the FAQ but I know posters have been caught for it in the past - Fxd - Thanks bill.) that you don't post either your own or other peoples RL info here. Am I wrong?
Depending upon where you stand on this issue think on this - if I pissed him off enough for him to think it's ok to do to me how long do you think it is before you piss him off enough that he'll post some of your stuff here?

Now I'm not going to flounce like Alby Marshmallow - vowing never to return, only to reappear a few weeks later. I'd be lying if I did.
I bid you au revoir, but for now this ain't adieu.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Sat 14 Sep 2013, 0:01, 157 replies)

"It's not
you it's me. I hate you"
(unclestinky, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 22:08, Reply)

Fake Nerd
She was frustrated with our relationship. Finally she told me why.

"You are a fake nerd. I wanted a real nerd. You are just a wannabe. You play to the audience too much."
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 21:30, 4 replies)

Was with a 15 year old when i was 22
That was naughty I know. She was nearly 16 though. But i didnt ever break the law with her so I guess that was OK. She actually finished with me :)

So I started dating her slightly older mate who was 16.

When I was 24 I started dating a 17 year old. that lasted a year. Then when I was 25 I started dating another 17 year old..

What can I say? I like em fresh :)

Though I've swung the other way now and had a go on a 31 year old. That was interesting :D


( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 20:14, 9 replies)

I had been seeing a girl for about 2 weeks
She had bought some horrible reptile pet that I was feigning an interest in. The pet was on the floor at the side of the bed. I was knelt down by its enclosure. She was laid on the bed, on her side, with her head resting on her hand so she could see.

And then without so much as a flinch, she raised her leg and let out a massive fart.

From that point I was calculating the most efficient way to get the fuck out of there.

This story is 100% true.

Length? About 3 seconds, and then a quick one at the end.
(Frample Tromwibbler climbs an obstacle like old people fuck, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 19:15, 20 replies)

As I have mentioned once before
I informed my then girlfriend that I had going to ask her to marry me whilst we were on holiday in Ecuador but then didn't because I realised that I really didn't want to. Strangely this revelation did not strengthen our bond.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Fri 13 Sep 2013, 16:17, 24 replies)

Wild child Wild women.
After 2 years, at the tender age of 17, she dumped me no explanation given. But through the grapevine I found out she thought I was too boring when it came to sex. I met her again at a reunion about 20 years later. She told me she had just got divorced, after 15 years. Her reason, he was boring.
(fire_exit, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 15:56, 6 replies)

OK now... as the time is pertinent.
Got a msg outta the blue from a very lovely Kiwi lady I used to hang out with go places. Always fancied the arse off her; but collided relationships, I was or she was in ensured we never took any further.

That was circa 1995, the Kiwi met someone here in the UK and went back to sheep-land and finally married someone, who ended up cheating on her and the resultant divorce followed, queue lots of non starters for her ongoing.

Me, 1st marriage was cheated on, divorce. 2 years, 5 year legal battle and 40k in legal costs each.
Second marriage, 7 years and 9 together.

Last 2 - 3 years were hell with her son (my stepson) and her work / life, rowing every night, constant unwillingness to partake in each others family interests or me wanting to take time away with her alone.
The life was so toxic, I needed an out.
Massive depression on my part, prozac and counselling and such like, I learned a lot over those 2 -3 years.
Had resultant stomach issues, confined to work from home with no travel for work. I felt like I was dying.
Drinking too much... just needed to block the day to day out.

Mainly, it's really hard to bring up some other guy's kid from the age of 6 to 16.
I guess I am just not cut out for that, gave it what I thought was serious try, I failed as I am leaving.

So I piss off to Paris to meet with the Kiwi, for me... way too much good food / wine over several days.
Finally found myself alive again, talked to a lot of interesting people in cafes and bars.
We also hooked up with an Mercan workmate of mine for a night out, the coup de gras were 'Long Island Iced Teas' (French style).

So I asked her 'Would you like to take this ongoing', she answered 'Yis' (as they do).

She invites me back to Geneva after... hung out with her and relatives on lake Garda, had the best time.
Speaking daily on Skype, arsebook... et al, ongoing.
Meeting again in October in Thailand... looking to move to NZ to be with her, failing that shes coming back to the UK.

Ex Wife to be is ok, we both want to stay mates outta this, I will still support my stepson outta choice not commitment.

So possibly the best breakup ever.

We are all in a good place, all

Much love.
(Master_Slob UK minister for cultural appropriation., Fri 13 Sep 2013, 15:50, 25 replies)

If a girl is straddling you
whilst grinding her muff into your face, as you indulge in a little cunnilingus, it really is quite possibly the worst time to find out that another man shot his load into her not half an hour before she arrived at your house.
( Muns, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 15:47, 16 replies)

Catherine Zeta-Jones
is very upset about separating from Michael Douglas as it comes soon after her personal trainer, gardener and favourite pool boy were all diagnosed with throat cancer.



Coat, door, exit!
( Vambo, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 15:31, 7 replies)

I broke up with my missus when she was pregnant with my child
and then couldn't understand why she might not want me and my mum present at the birth, because I have the brains of a fucking amoeba.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 14:28, 46 replies)

A few years ago...
I came home to find my girlfriend packing a suitcase. She turned to me and said "I'm sorry, but I'm leaving you. It was my birthday yesterday and you never got me a present, a card or even acknowledged me. I'm going to find someone who will love me and appreciate me." She then hurried out of the house.

I called to her, "Wait love, hold on! Come back!" She stopped, turned around and walked towards me. Through the snow I could see that her eyes were bloodshot and a single tear was rolling down her cheek. Nevertheless she smiled as I said "Awww, you silly thing...

...You forgot your suitcase."
(Thor McLegend FUCK SHITPANTS PAC MAN, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 14:04, Reply)

Not what it is cracked up to be.
I was 39. She was 18.

Teasing me at work for weeks, I didn't really believe she was interested. At a petite 4'11, dusky and seductive.

Go on they all said, you lucky lucky bastard. So I did. She came round one day after work and stayed about three days. What the hell I thought, every old mans dream right?

Wrong.

House full of her sponging mates, empty fucking fridge, her dusky half spanish heritage and petite height made for sex like fucking the still warm corpse of Frodo Baggins.

The tipping point was when she vommitted all over my new sofa, across the lounge and bathroom and passed out head first in the toilet.

I have to say I lost my rag a little and asked her and her friends to leave.

Looking back I think I made the right decision as my last impressions of the young lady was of her friends dragging her by a leg each face down along the pavement, G string pulled around her knees, still unconscious and with a snail like trail of puke/drool leading from her mouth up the pavement, through the porch and into the bathroom.

Ladies, as you get older and think men like the younger models YOU ARE VERY WRONG.
(Mong The Merciless Older not wiser, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 13:32, 15 replies)

Don't be my Valentine
My first proper girlfriend at Brighton Poly lived in Bedfordshire and, in reading week of the spring term, took me home to meet her family there. I took this to be a good sign.

However, she was pretty distant and unaffectionate the whole time we were there, which I put down to being embarrassed in front of her folks - I was apparently the first guy she'd brought home to stay.

On the train home she broke up with me, and days later (for Valentine's Day) sent me a single red rose and a card in which she'd written "hope you find her".

I assume her family took umbrage against me and talked her into dumping me, but I never did find out and I never saw her again after that.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 13:22, Reply)

We met in a nightclub one Saturday night; both of us drunk, and went back to her place for some drunken sex.
The following morning, after breakfast, we said our goodbyes, and I headed off on the 2-day trip to Manchester I'd planned, to see my mate.

This didn't go down well with her at all, and so she called my housemates 20 times while I was away and on my return cried, screamed, and demanded to know where the fuck I'd been, who the fuck I was sleeping with in Manchester, called me a fucking fucking FUCKING cunt, a tiny-dicked son-of-a-whore and then threatened to kill herself.

I was gutted.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 13:10, 14 replies)

Subjective...
When her definition of you changes from "a wild rock 'n' roll guy with a great sense of humour" to "a serial piss-head who doesn't take anything seriously" a week into the relationship, you know there's no point in continuing.
(SigourneysBeaver took off and nuked the entire site from orbit on, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 12:56, 8 replies)

We were about 8 years old.
I'd wanted to hold her hand for ever and finally it happened.
We sat in silence, sweaty palms pressed together.

I remember looking shyly at her cute little face, wondering if I could pluck up the courage to kiss her and then glancing down to our intertwined fingers and as I did so, noticing how much hairier than my own her arms were.

"Wow" I marveled, "you have gorilla arms"


The over-sensitive bitch dumped me on the spot.
:-(
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 12:46, 3 replies)