My Dad
I was a young teen, not long had I been trusted to stay in the house on my own while my parents went out. And as a young teen, I did what every young teen would do when their parents went out and spent the time steadily masturbating myself into oblivion.

This night was no different, I was there on my knees in my room (those were the days, my knees wouldn't stand the pressure these days.) my masturbatory materials spread out in front of me and lost in a revery of activity. So lost that i didn't hear my drunken parents come home. Didn't hear my Dad come up the stairs. Didn't realise he had opened my bedroom door until I heard 'Hey...oh...' and the door slam shut again.

I had a restless night, dreading the embarassment I was going to face the next day. I stayed in bed as long as I could, then eventually, sometime after midday, i made my way downstairs to find my hungover Dad in the kitchen. He looked at me, I looked at him, there was an awkard pause and he spoke. 'God, i must have been drunk last night, I imagined I caught you wanking over a picture of Mary Whitehouse'.









(sorry. I know that amused no one other than me).
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 15:43, 2 replies)

Ha ha ha
narrowly avoided a wanking disaster then
(Smale is stuffed, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 16:11, closed)

by about 6 days

(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 16:17, closed)