Naughty
I was caught shoplifting by my nan, who made me take the object back and pay for it. Th eshopkeeper didn't prosecute as long as I delivered 2000 leaflets for him.

I got caught by my football team trying to seal the deal with the managers daughter in a hay field at the end of season party. They all just started singing football songs which kinda put me and her off.

I was caught mid act in bed with someone on a 6th form Biology Field trip. We were filmed by a mate on his palmcorder; I was again found naked with her in the bath at an end of A-Levels party, by my girlfiend who I thought was on holiday. That was another whole bag of fish..

and the worst one; hammered in Liverpool, I was caught pissing on Anfield Stadium by the police at about 4am. They stood behind me, shouted, I tried to put it away and I pissed all over my legs and feet (I was wearing Flip Flops for some reason). They took me to the station, I had to sit stinking of piss for about 2 hours to get interviewed by an Evertonian who gave me a warning as i said I was a Everton supporter as well and it just seemed the right thing to do. I just really needed a piss...
(Strump striving for imperfection since, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 16:14, Reply)

Pearoast (of sorts)
I moved back in with my dad for about a year after running out of money when I was at Uni. One particularly lonely and drunken night, I returned from the pub with a 'lady' that looked not unlike Grotbags.

After getting down to it in my room, my dad had obviously heard the noise as I furiously and drunkenly munched on her cavernous box and he came barging into the room. He thought it was either the TV or his son having one of his inebriated: "I'm going to trash my room" episodes, and was apparently coming in to tell me to "keep the fucking noise down" when he was greeted by the sight of his youngest son writhing around on what appeared to be a mass of whale blubber.

He fucking laughed his head off.

After he composed himself (which took far too long), he laughed his way right back out again. I could still hear the cunt laughing as he went to bed.

Thanks dad.
(god_is_a_ghoti Carpe Deum., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 16:07, 1 reply)

I wish I hadn't caught my brother
Masturbating, when he was 13. It left scars in my soul.
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 16:00, 2 replies)

Not me, but my mate
We had long suspected that my mate S was gay. Not a big deal to us (at least two of us swung both ways) but he seemed to be struggling with it and that was making him unhappy (we surmised). Anyhow, being good mates we said nothing and waited to see if he would want to come out, or not. No worries.

One day I get call from his mobile - but it's not him on the end of the line, it's a lady using his phone from the local hospital. He has binned his bike taking a bend at ninety on the way to work and is in casualty. I fly up there asap as I am the one he wants there, and wait with him for ten hours whilst they figure out he has broken his pelvis, cracked ribs, cracked vertebra, the lot. And mangled his arm. Finally he gets a bed, and the conversation (him off his tits on morphine) turns to his poor cat at home, needing to be let out and fed. So I offer to go over to his house and see to the cat, get some pyjamas for him, make sure the tv is off at the wall, that sort of shit - as he's clearly going to be in hospital for some time.
"Thanks, that would be great. But don't go in my bedroom," he says.
"Ok," I reply. Whatever, his business.

So I go over to his house, get some clothes out of the clean basket on the dining table (waiting to be ironed), turn tv off at wall, etc. But I can't find the blasted cat. I call her. I look everywhere for her. She likes me so she's not hiding anywhere. Then I hear her - yowling from in the bedroom behind pushed to door.
I sort of knew what I was going to find before I opened the door - just a feeling, you know. I tried not to look and I tried not to see (normally not a problem for me these days but this was a while ago). Cat comes running out pleased to see me as I push the door open away from me. And there I see it - his curtains closed, computer left on, 22 inch monitor displaying some stills of she male on male hardcore action. The finishing touch was a box of kleenex on the desk.

I shut the computer off (didn't want any of his other friends who might fetch stuff for him to find it), shut the door and went downstairs to feed the cat.

When I went back to the hospital the next day with his clothes, the first thing he said to me was, "You saw, didn't you ?"
"Don't know what you mean," I said, but it must have showed on my face. But I said nothing about it anyway, and haven't to this day (until now, but I moved away four years ago and haven't seen him or anyone else who would know him since, so I guess it's ok to tell the story now).

When he got out of hospital a month later (caught pneumonia during his stay, nice) we had a party for him. He made a speech and came out there and then. Nobody was surprised !

He met a guy when he went to buy a new bike (old one totalled). As far as I know they are still together.
(womanwhocanonlylivewithdogs, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:56, 8 replies)

17, young, fun and generally full of my boyfriends cum.
When I started seeing my boyfriend we both still lived in our parents houses which meant that as we were both as horny as lifers we had to grab every opportunity have a sweaty assed session whenever we could. This resulted in…
- getting caught by the graveyard grounds man
- getting caught by my boss in a lay-by, while in the throws of oral.
- getting caught on a ferry coming back from Arran by an old couple looking to whale spot.
- getting caught by my neighbours outside my mums house.
- getting caught at New Year in my friends bathroom by around 30 people.

Recently my daughter asked where she was conceived, I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was on a stairway in an apartment block in Italy. Where we were then caught by a couple of children with buckets and spades.
(JellyBelly JellyBelly, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:56, 19 replies)

I walked in on my dad going down on my mom.
I was about 22.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
"Nah I'm good, nevermind." Says I.

Scarred for the remainder of my life
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:55, 2 replies)

What I get up to of a Saturday evening
Everyone else had already gone out and I was going to catch them up once I'd had a shower. Off they pop, and I proceed to get undressed and head into the toilet, leaving my bedroom door ajar.

Unbeknownst to me, one of the girls had left one of her shoes behind (or something equally spurious) so they had, en masse, decided to return to collect. They enter, to hear an unearthly wailing that throughly freaks everyone out. The braver ones venture towards the screeching, now reaching a crescendo...

Picture a hand, pushing at a door. It swings open to reveal....

A naked gentleman, half profile with his eyes closed....





screaming into a shampoo bottle at the top of his lungs "... YOU'VE LOST THAT LOVING FEELING!!! NOW IT'S GONE! GONE! GONE! WOOOH A-WOOH-A-WOOOooooo"


Length? well, I belted out another verse and a half before one of them broke down.

PS. I could have made up a more embarrassing song to have been singing, but this is unfortunatly entirely true.
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:43, 1 reply)

At school
I was eating in one of the physics labs at break - strictly forbidden.

We're sitting around chatting and suddenly the head of sixth-form walks past, glances into the room, and I do an instinctive comedy freeze halfway through biting an apple and then quickly hide it behind my back. He carries on walking. Phew.

A few seconds later he then walks BACKWARDS into the lab, comes up to me and says "What do you think you're doing?"

Perturbed, I have no idea what to say.

I take to apple out.

"Apple?"

he looks at me for a beat and then says

"Who do you think you are - Eve?"
( Hampster Squared has stuff at www.tilla.co.uk, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:42, Reply)

I was caught masturbating to a switched off monitor.
Several years ago, mum walks it, I punched the power switch but forgot to cover everything else.
(Archeleus hates cabbage, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:40, 2 replies)

I stole my babies bed
Cot
(nimrodihnio making gravy for one., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:02, Reply)

"You hav caught me, like a Treen in a disabled Space Cruiser"
Not me, but my daughter, the charming Scaryduckling who did what any teenage girl would do on spotting her arch-nemesis across a crowded shopping precinct on a Saturday afternoon – flash her the V-Sign.

Alas, this act of rebellion was spotted by some hatchet-faced harpy, who thought the gesture was intended for her:

Angry-looking not so Yummy Mummy: "You! Yes you! The not unattractive girl in the blue coat! Are you sticking two fingers up at me?"

Scaryduckling: "No... err... it was at the girl behind you."

Not Yummy Mummy: "That would be my daughter, then."

Scaryduckling (top marks for thinking on her feet here): "No. Not her. The girl behind her."

Not Yummy Mummy: "My other daughter."

Scaryduckling: "Yoinks!!!"

She fled

Social embarrassment - it's not just for grown-ups.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:57, 2 replies)

Monkey's bones
Like the bone twirling overhead in "2001 A Space Odyssey" transformed into modern technology, my indiscretion was found out.

I had begun a marriage which wasn't quite right. We'd known each other nearly seven years but a long-distance relationship with someone from the other side of a very large ocean doesn't perfectly reveal all the tiny irritations which can lead to an insurmountable problem. About three months into the marriage, for which I moved away from Blighty, leaving everything behind except memories of a career, we could hardly bear to be the in same room as one another. It wasn't anything malicious: just two people who shouldn't have been married at that time.

The mind plays tricks, under such pressure. It perceives anything on-line to be the emotional equivalent of real life. My mobile telephone never left my side unless it was locked (and my spouse and I didn't habitually check each other's phones) and a flush familiarity with certain types of dating websites brought me some relief, even though my co-conspirators lived some two hundred miles away in a very rural area of a vast country considerably larger than Britain.

The fruitiness of secret conversations, very secret pictures, and some verbal contact, exceeded most people's wildest boundaries. Some of it should be recycled into a book, for the prurient interest of course. Never did I reveal my real name or location; but my grumpiness with some elements of the instant overseas family made no disguise of my married status, and I explicitly discussed certain issues with the family which seemed not to be resolvable by the people directly concerned, especially my stepson who was a violent, petty criminal.

Work arrived in the UK so, with a hope to clear things up between my spouse and me, for neither of us wanted things to be so badly wrong, I left to earn some income, taking my phone with me, of course.

About a week later, the prime female correspondent in all this, a very adventurous, filth-obsessed, but mostly-responsible person, was involved in a minor road accident while she was travelling some hundreds of miles from her home. No-one was hurt, but her own telephone was flung out of her car in the accident, wheeling through the air like the bone thrown by the ape in "2001 A Space Odyssey", coming to land by the roadside for anyone to discover it. However, that large, mainly rural, country does not have a tradition of "lost property" offices especially so far from civilisation, so the phone, being capable of really very good photographs, was found and fenced.

The accident occurred ten minutes from my marital home. The eventual fence was my wife's son, the violent one, who still lived in the same house as her.

Can you imagine what he thought when he looked at the telephone's contents?

About a week later, at four o'clock in the morning, the telephone rang in my London flat. My wife's voice asked, "Who's Rebecca?"

So, I was caught. Day by day, each and every message found on that telephone was drip-fed back to me via email. Along with the photographs. Both sides.

Oddly enough, my spouse and I are in good contact now. Sometimes, you never expect to be caught...
(Sky Channel 760, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:52, 6 replies)

Me & the missus got frisky in the maze at a palace just outside Kingston Upon Thames when there was no-one around
or we thought there was no-one around, someone must've heard us & security came after us. I managed to catch my penis on my zip while I was legging it.

So in summary then: I caught my hampton when caught courting at Hampton Court.

This is entirely untrue, by the way.
( broadsword now that's fresh, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:50, 4 replies)

Basically...
...the line of work I am in allows me to claim expenses for living costs if I have to travel a fair distance to work every day. This particular system allows me to claim mortgage interest payments on second homes and utility bills - but we are also allowed claims for items of furniture, electrical goods like televisions, refurbishments and up to £400 each month for food.

So, it's a good way of making loads of cash over and above my pay (which is pretty fucking good if i'm going to be honest about it). I can just claim that the landlord of my second home charges a fortune in rent, pay him, then pocket the rest for myself. And it's all at the expense of the tax-payer! It's a great system and it allows me to pay for my 3 homes (plus my holiday home in Provence) very comfortably indeed.

Unfortunately, I recently got caught claiming about £900 a month and giving it to my partner under the pretence that I was paying rent to him, so i'm fucked.

It's a pretty high-profile job and there has been quite a lot of recent scandal because of colleagues getting caught doing the same thing, so they're coming down hard on us.

I'll be fine though - I 'outed' myself as a gay at the same time, so none of my colleagues want to condemn me for fear of being perceived as a gay-basher.

Result!
(god_is_a_ghoti Carpe Deum., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:44, 8 replies)

I wasn't exactly caught but still not my finest hour.
I came home drunk from a night out and as you do preceded to stick on a bit of babestation and roll a joint.

Now this is where it gets a bit hazy. I remember definitely bashing one out but i have no recollection of the the aftermath or more importantly the clean up of the wank and the usual turning off of the TV in disgust.

Now when I awoke I readily got dressed and rushed off out but it not before realizing the TV had been turned off by the socket (which i never do) and some of my weed was missing so it must have meant my dad came in saw me post wank pre cleanup and decided to help himself to my smoke while leaving a big neon sign letting me know that he saw me.

Oh and i woke up naked so there was no way around it apart from a stony couple of weeks silence at the breakfast table.

(and no he didn't touch me in my special place..... from what i can remember)
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:43, 6 replies)

Caught by her parents
It was the late eighties and I was seeing only my second 'proper' girlfriend. 'Proper' in the sense that we were doing it. In fact, we were doing it lots. What we lacked in experience and technique, we made up for with enthusiasm and by going for it whenever the opprtunity presented itself. Indoors, outdoors, friends' houses, wherever and whenever. This was, ultimately, to lead to our downfall.

Saturday morning, I receive a phone call from an excited girlfriend, breathlessly relating the facts that A) Her parents had gone out shopping and B) That she was terribly keen on us using the time they were out for more doing it. Needless to say, I rushed the three miles to her house as fast as my 12-speed racer could carry me.

Bike parked safely outside the front door, I rushed in, both of us removing clothing as we ascended the stairs. We headed straight to her bedroom and made ourselves comfortable.

It can only have been a matter of minutes before the front door opened. Her parents had returned from shopping early as town was too busy. Her dad shouts upstairs asking where she is, so girlfriend slips a dressing gown on and looks down the stairs "I was just having a shower", she says.
"Where's lardy then?" enquires her father.
"He's not here" she replies innocently.
"Well, why's his bike outside then?"

At this point, we knew we'd been caught. I'd used this brief exchange as a chance to dress myself and presented myself at the top of the stairs fully dressed except for pants and socks, which I hurriedly stuffed into my pockets. My face must have been a terrible shade of crimson as I ran down the stairs and out of the front door past her stunned mother, whith her father shouting "Get out of my house!"

Twenty three years later, the girlfriend and I are Mr and Mrs lardy, but it still brings a blush to my cheeks when the in-laws mention this.
(lardyboy Next stop, Fissplap Central, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:42, 1 reply)

My best/worst night ever.
I was seeing a girl (we will call her S). I say seeing, I mean we were in a total clusterfuck of a relationship in which we only ever saw each other at one particular club on a Friday night (Escape in Swansea for anyone who cares), but talking on MSN all through the week. I had asked her out and she had said no, but kept stringing me along. Bullshit things like "I just want to be single for the moment but I really like you so let's keep doing what we're doing" and other things like that. It was really screwing my head up and I was starting to act like a real arsehole when drunk. This, funnily enough, also coincided with the short period I experimented with ecstasy.

This had been a good week (despite it following her kissing another guy the week before), and we were going to meet each other in the club. I went out with friends beforehand and got uproariously drunk and otherwise intoxicated, proceeding to tell the landlady of my local and her daughter that they were both horrible people and should be ashamed of themselves (they'd sacked a friend of mine for not working hard enough when she'd been in a car accident three days beforehand and was in a neck brace).

In short, I was pissed off and it was all coming out.

We went to the club about 11. I went inside, entirely off my face but still conscious. I looked around but couldn't find S.

So instead, I went onto the dancefloor, looked at the first attractive girl I saw, went over and pulled her. I am a cocky bastard when off my face (see previous dice story for evidence). I can't remember what I said but in my hazy memory it seemed to take about ten seconds between introduction and first kiss, which is possible if I was being a real fucking arsehole.

I stopped kissing her (possibly due to resistance) and turned around to see S, looking directly at me, shaking her head sadly. I did a kind of Fonzie "Heeeeeeeeeeeeey" at her, as if to indicate "Yeah, I'm a cunt, but whatcha gonna do?" She turned around and walked away.

I cannot remember any more of the night. I have in fact always told S that I can't remember any of the night at all, but I certainly remember that first part. The rest of the night included kissing up to four other girls, including S, who seemed to have a remarkable tolerance of my utterly ridiculous and cuntish antics. But then maybe she realised I really was off my face when I kissed a guy as well.



PS: I'm the slightly manlier-looking one on the right.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:40, 13 replies)

Caught masturbating?
That's about as normal as being caught breathing in my book...
(Toucan - http://www.titmonday.com, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:37, 2 replies)

Posting on B3ta also...
I'm only supposed to be allowed to look at the image challenges. Not good when your parents realise you've made an account and have posted several times...

Luckily I'm a mature person.

Luckily.
(Spy is dead., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:33, Reply)

one of those friends who is never around when they have a boyfriend on the go
clearly changed her mind about meeting up and when i rang her, she called my bluff and said "oh, i should've called you yesterday... the tickets to manchester go up drastically overnight... it'll be £20 now and its not really worth it for a day visit."

i decided to save her the embarrassment of telling her that i had already opened national express on internet explorer and could see that the ticket prices were still actually (and would only ever be) only £5.00.

"oh ok then, thats too bad."

and again, she tells me that she's getting a lift with someone instead of getting the train home which means she cant make lunch because they're going in the next couple of hours.

"ok" I go.

her housemate, with whom i am also pals, invites me around but she hasn't told them her fib and i dont mention im going round because ... i dont think she will be there. of course, she is. her response?

"oh gosh, im sorry radiatorlady... i didnt realise he'd keeping me waiting this long."

yes, but he must have suspected that he wasn't going anywhere near to 3 o clock (when we were supposed to meet) because he ended up taking you both back 9 hours later...

again i let this go.

a week later, im supposed to go round and my time keeping skills are appalling. im half-an hour late. im met with an exceedingly frosty reception and the next time we arrange to meet, i get a text going "can you be on time please?"

compare with my best friend who is honest to a fault.

"ladyradiator, i would meet up with you but my boyfriend just called so im blowing you off to see him."

okie dokey.
(ladyintheradiator, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:26, 4 replies)

Wanking in the Garden
Gah! Come back from a most excellent night clubbing at around 5am still doing facial gymnastics off the few decent pills i had. Roll a nice joint to help ease back into the quietness that is the flat i share with my lovely girlfriend (none clubber) and as it's summers night i sit in a plastic garden chair at the back door to smoke and watch the sun rise. Bliss.

Aha! the horn kicks in. Wank AND smoke while rushing simulateously. What an awesome combination. Brillant.

Fast forward 5 mins later to see the sleepy face of my girlfriend at the kitchen window, look of horror spread across it as she catches me multi tasking.

What could i do? Well, i think i stopped cracking one off. briefly.

Still, what a feeling. I miss those pills.
(TheManofScience, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:22, 11 replies)

I was having tennis played all over me.
I was court.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:18, 2 replies)

Eyeing up my girlfriend's sister...
...that didn't go down too well.

Especially because I decided a rational explanation would be best:

'Well, she is gorgeous... like you are, too'

NEVER attempt a rational explanation with an upset woman, and NEVER pay a compliment to another woman in her presence. Especially an attractive younger one... especially her fit sister.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:11, 2 replies)

I'm having a wank! You're having a laugh?
It was a bright sunny day. I'd woken mid-morning, as was my custom, and I thought I'd begin the day by relaxing in a gentleman's way and making the most of my natural morning glory.

I conjoured some filthy thoughts, and commenced. As I was approaching the point of no return, tongue out of the corner of my mouth and peculiar expressions aplenty, my bedroom door burst open.

Standing there, open mouthed and shocked, were two of my housemates. Immediately I was struck by the horror of the situation and I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me (fnarr!). Fortunately though, I retained my presence of mind. Aware that if I showed my embarrassment my life would be made excruciatingly cringeworthy for months, I gave a cheery wave and said "Alright lads, just wanking myself frigid. You couldn't give us a minute could you?"

They left, and although regularly brought up, I wasn't laughed at but with, and my status as cool, unashamed and unflappable (if only people knew the truth!) was preserved a little longer.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:08, 1 reply)

Posting on B3TA
Oops. Sorry boss.
(Kliper Filllets Getting noticed by twats on the internet since, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:04, 7 replies)

First!
Bollocks.
(TAZ220 Not giving a toss since, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:04, Reply)

hahahaaaa suckers
third!
(Lannes, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:03, Reply)

First...
..time second
(god_is_a_ghoti Carpe Deum., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:03, Reply)

Third?
Time first
(Biff..., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:03, Reply)