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This is a question Food sex

Tell us your tales of your custard fetish and the rash you got from a bottle of HP sauce. Because we've ALL had a cucumber stuck up our chuff at least once in our lives.

(Question from MissUnexpectedNuttering)

(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 13:50)
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The not untrue story of Operation Have-An-Enormous-Wank-Into-A-Hollowed-Out-Marrow and the unfortunate consequences thereof
This is a story about a very good friend of mine.

A story he told me in strictest confidence on the condition that I do not tell anybody, and ESPECIALLY not the entire internet.

So. My friend ...uhh... Scary Goose, then. A friend last seen, an empty shell of a man, rocking back and forth like a bear in those charity adverts you see during Countdown.

Goose was particularly friendly with an elderly couple, and helped out in their garden because they were getting on a bit. He never sought any reward for these acts of kindness, except for a nice cup of tea and a couple of biscuits.

So, Goose was somewhat delighted to receive a small gift from his neighbours. It was a marrow. A marrow he had helped grow in their garden, and presented as thanks for a job well done.

Scary Goose lived on the best junk food money could buy, and didn't have a clue what to do with the thing, and decided straight away that cooking seasonal summer squash was far too much like hard work.

So he had a Chinese takeaway, and started work on Plan B: Operation Have An Enormous Wank Into A Hollowed-out Marrow.

He almost – but not quite – achieved a satisfactory level of success due to factors which he had not anticipated in his lust for zucchini-based relief.

1. Don't try hollowing out one end with a serving spoon whilst entering the thing at the other

2. Don't set about the Mark One Scary Goose Wanking Machine straight from the fridge, for this will lead to uncomfortable shrinkage, and ultimately...

3. Don't fill the thing up with water from the kettle to get it up to body temperature, especially if you'd just made yourself a nice cup of tea

That is what my friend told me when I visited him at the Scorched Peckers Ward in the Royal Berkshire Hospital, bearing gifts of soothing balms and a jazz mag called "Hot Nurses". Yes. My friend.

And may the Good Lord strike me down dead if I am telling a word of a lie.

Twelve-inch extended remix HERE, if you're into that kind of thing.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 14:07, Reply)

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