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This is a question Ginger

Do you have red hair? Do you know someone hit with the ginger stick? Tell us your story.

(, Thu 25 Feb 2010, 12:54)
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Ah, Sarah. Sarah was a fey, timid beast. She came into my life not long after ex-Mrs SAC and I went our separate ways and was a brief, yet enlightened chapter in my life. She was elegant, slender, well-spoken, blessed with beautiful blue eyes, a fey smile and lustrous strawberry blonde locks. Whilst my erstwhile friends and colleagues would dub her a “ging-ah” I knew that the term strawberry blonde in this instance merely conveyed an self-esteem-boosting term for those whose follicles were not strictly of the traditional red-headed gene pool, but could be safely shoehorned into that category nonetheless.

It began when she joined the company I worked for. She was stationed opposite me. As our desk were diagonally opposite to each other and, if not staring at out screens we could eye each other up, I would notice out of the corner of my beady little, her occasionally looking at me.

On a point of her shyness, I gave her the respect of not bombarding her with idle chat, merely offering the occasional, brief, topic of conversation; the weather, people in the office, what we’d been up to out of work. She seldom discussed her private life, seeming to be one of these 'keep my private life private’-type of people which I respected. The conversations were short, sweet and polite and the more these carried on the more I could feel Sarah growing on me. The more I wanted to break the ice and have a deep and meaningful conversation with her. I wanted to get her out of the office environment and open her up (so to speak).

After about a week, one of the girls in the office let it be known that Sarah had a bit of a thing for me. Hmm, thought I. Goethe once wrote “Boldness has genius, magic and power in it”. Well, permit me to be bold! One Friday, I timed finishing up to coincide with Sarah, so we could transact our end-of-week convo à pied. I asked her again what she was up to at the weekend and again she repeated her plans for Saturday, but was having a quiet night tonight. ‘Fancy going out for a drink? asked I. There was a brief pause, (a bit like the brief pause you'd make, when, stumbling down a street in Phuket and being propositioned by a Thai hooker and spurning her advances only to carry on, realise you are in a dead end street, then to wander back past the same lady of the night, and be regaled with the immortal line ‘I taste your sperm for free’. You know, ‘that’ kind of pause.) Then she said ‘yes’.

We planned to meet at her parents as they were out that night. I procrastinated over whether to wear my Sonic Youth ‘Goo’ t-shirt or my newly-purchased Black Flag one, but instead plumped for the more sedate and less controversial ‘Listen To The Beach Boys’ garment. I turned up at her parents’ at the prescribed hour and was welcomed in. They were out and she offered me a drink. There were some cold beers in the fridge and she’d already made a start on a bottle of red. She’d gone to the trouble of renting a couple of DVDs. Looks like we’d be staying in then. Being of a polite nature she asked me which DVD I wanted to watch. I opted for ‘King Kong’ as I was curious to see whether it would stand up to the original. We plonked ourselves on the sofa and settled down to watch the film.

After about half an hour, she got up to refill her glass. She offered me another beer which I accepted. Half an hour after this, she got up again to refill her glass. When she spoke she sounded somewhat slurred. She then sat down next to me and snuggled up. I put my arm around her shoulder. I ran my fingers up and down her arm which she seemed to like. Then I ran my fingers through her hair, my fingertips running over her scalp. She made pleased little noises. Increasing in boldness, I began running my fingers up and down her back, before deciding to do so underneath her top. She didn’t resist, nor did she do so when I unhooked her bra. Before we knew it we were kissing passionately and were both in a state of undress, both with just our underwear left on. I slipped my hand into her knickers and mucked with her man in a boat. She squirmed and moaned with delight as I soon had her soaking. I rolled her pants down her thighs and freed her. She was shaven in the business area with a little ginger strawberry blonde Johnny Unitas-style buzzcut area on her Beetle bonnet. She lowered my underwear and grabbed my, by now, throbbing gutstick. She moved herself down so her head was now at my groin level. She paused, then said ‘I’m not too good at this kind of thing’. ‘That’s OK’ I replied, my voice rising in tone at the last two syllables, not dissimilar to the bit in Anchorman when a question mark is typed onto the end of Ron Burgundy’s teleprompter. She paused, took me in her mouth. And then...nothing. No sucking, no pulling. Sod all. She just had my cock in her mouth. Granted, she “had” “my” “cock” “in” “her” “mouth”, but surely there’s more to it than that? Nope. For what seemed like an eternity, my cock remained in her mouth, like a Push-Pop waiting to be pushed. Then I felt it, the beginning of the end. Almost instantaneously my cock went from panhandle to panhandler in seconds. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked, concerned. Alas, I knew it wasn’t going to be. I was gutted

Monday morning was pretty awkward to say the least. About a week later, Sarah had moved desks and within a month, she’d left the company. I often think of Sarah wistfully, especially when Girls Aloud are on t’box and I see the horny ginger one. I always think to myself what her fellatio technique would be like...
(, Tue 2 Mar 2010, 17:17, 8 replies)
Fucking hell
I just read all that
(, Tue 2 Mar 2010, 17:30, closed)
that's five minutes of my lfe i'll never get back.
wht a waste of time.
(, Tue 2 Mar 2010, 20:03, closed)
what a load of shit.
you're no frankspencer, or pooflake, or spanky, or, really, any good. Must try harder.
(, Tue 2 Mar 2010, 20:05, closed)
Handbags at the ready!
It could have done with being a lot, LOT shorter, but we can't all match Spanky's filthy genius.
(, Wed 3 Mar 2010, 2:43, closed)
Well, I rather
liked the story...and having been on the receiving end of a few incompetent blowjobs from women I'd fancied I can completely relate. It's maddening. Have a click.
(, Wed 3 Mar 2010, 8:00, closed)
I agree. Wasn't as bad as some of the posts here. Plus it at least made a bad blow job sound nearly romantic...which is ironic really.
(, Wed 3 Mar 2010, 10:47, closed)
For fucks sake man
You should have grabbed her ears and got your own rhythm going.
(, Wed 3 Mar 2010, 12:15, closed)
I like this. Reminds me of my first ever girlfriend. She put it in her gob... and... that was it. About thirty seconds later she took it out again with a wet PLOP!!!, she looked at me, I looked at her, and we both pretty much came to the same conclusion:

These things they call blowjobs... bit shit, really...

(, Wed 3 Mar 2010, 16:33, closed)

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