Things you can't unsee...
The Eightball Says Yes wimpers, "Waiting for a bus on Upper Street, Islington twenty years ago I was approached by a very old and very potty woman. She must have been 80.
"She was licking her lips salaciously and saying 'fuck me, fuck me.' She then lifted her skirt to show me her fanny. I looked, I ran, I wish I could rinse my mind out, but the image remains."
Tell us and the internet what you cannot unsee
( , Fri 13 Feb 2015, 13:42)
The Eightball Says Yes wimpers, "Waiting for a bus on Upper Street, Islington twenty years ago I was approached by a very old and very potty woman. She must have been 80.
"She was licking her lips salaciously and saying 'fuck me, fuck me.' She then lifted her skirt to show me her fanny. I looked, I ran, I wish I could rinse my mind out, but the image remains."
Tell us and the internet what you cannot unsee
( , Fri 13 Feb 2015, 13:42)
« Go Back
Indecent Exposure
I was in a local pub with workmates in the early 1990s, for a pint during dinner break. It was hardly a horrible pub, but hardly a brilliant one. After a game of pool we chose a booth and sat down to finish our beers.
After a couple of minutes, we noticed a very dodgy-looking couple sitting in the booth opposite us. They looked to be mid 50s, and by coincidence, "mid 50s" probably described the last time either of them had had a wash.
The bloke was "portly" and had the face of a professional port-drinker. His clothes were held together by threads and sheer willpower. I was drawn to the crotch of his trousers which seems to have all the substance of a spider's web. I didn't look too much - but I could swear he'd decided to "go commando" ...
... and my worst fears were confirmed two seconds later when he slightly shifted position and his dick flopped out of one of the holes. I was not the only one transfixed by this sight - all my colleagues has seen and were muttering expletives as they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
The filthy bastard noticed that we were looking, reddened slightly and quietly shoved his dick back into the same hole it had just flopped out of, and then carried on chatting with his dirty-looking whore of a companion.
Dirty old bastard.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 13:20, 2 replies)
I was in a local pub with workmates in the early 1990s, for a pint during dinner break. It was hardly a horrible pub, but hardly a brilliant one. After a game of pool we chose a booth and sat down to finish our beers.
After a couple of minutes, we noticed a very dodgy-looking couple sitting in the booth opposite us. They looked to be mid 50s, and by coincidence, "mid 50s" probably described the last time either of them had had a wash.
The bloke was "portly" and had the face of a professional port-drinker. His clothes were held together by threads and sheer willpower. I was drawn to the crotch of his trousers which seems to have all the substance of a spider's web. I didn't look too much - but I could swear he'd decided to "go commando" ...
... and my worst fears were confirmed two seconds later when he slightly shifted position and his dick flopped out of one of the holes. I was not the only one transfixed by this sight - all my colleagues has seen and were muttering expletives as they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
The filthy bastard noticed that we were looking, reddened slightly and quietly shoved his dick back into the same hole it had just flopped out of, and then carried on chatting with his dirty-looking whore of a companion.
Dirty old bastard.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 13:20, 2 replies)
As your worse(?) fears were confounded
does this mean that your initial shock and disgust evaporated to leave you with a heady feeling of elation and delight? Or am I missing something.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 16:09, closed)
does this mean that your initial shock and disgust evaporated to leave you with a heady feeling of elation and delight? Or am I missing something.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 16:09, closed)
He's confounded my fear that people on this site have a fantastic command of the English language.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 17:51, closed)
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 17:51, closed)
You're missing the fact I forgot to connect my brain to my fingers when I wrote those words.
( , Sat 14 Feb 2015, 18:30, closed)
« Go Back