Helicopter Parents
Back when young ScaryDuck worked in the Dole office rather than simply queuing in it, he had to deal with a claimant brought in by his mum. She did all the talking. He was 40 years old.
Have you had to deal with over-protective parents? Get your Dad to tell us all about it.
( , Thu 10 Sep 2009, 15:13)
Back when young ScaryDuck worked in the Dole office rather than simply queuing in it, he had to deal with a claimant brought in by his mum. She did all the talking. He was 40 years old.
Have you had to deal with over-protective parents? Get your Dad to tell us all about it.
( , Thu 10 Sep 2009, 15:13)
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Don't speak - ever. Just don't fucking speak !!!
The first girl who didn’t kick me out of bed the next morning muttering something like: “Urrggghh, you hideous freak! Fuck off!” or “Sorry I was really drunk, I though you were your mate,” was someone named Mel (Melanie, not Melvin – I performed a rigourous check of her undercarriage for excess cock n balls the first night we slept together and received a resounding negative response in the tranny-fucking department, thank fuck). Things were getting pretty serious between Mel and I, so I found myself invited round to her parents for tea and biscuits. And I was suddenly absolutely fucking terrified.
Mel had talked about her parents. They were liberals. Throwbacks to the 60’s when love was free, pills were cheap, and the music wasn’t quite as shit as it is now. I imagine Mel was conceived at an all night love-in somewhere. She was a scouser: for all I knew I could’ve been shagging the bastard love-child of John Lennon; she did look a bit like John Lennon, come to think of it. Only with tits. And I knew from speaking to Mel they were very open about everything, inculding sextalk with their dear daughter. That really freaked me out. Mel’s mum probably had a written report on her kitchen table about my shagging technique. It gave me the fucking willies.
So, we go round to her parents house. I’m sat perched on the edge of an armchair silently shitting myself as Mel’s mum and dad sit on the sofa opposite. We have tea. We have biscuits. Mel pops out for a minute and her mum asks me a question. I blink. I try and process the question. Doesn’t work. I gulp, blink, blink again. Then I start to reply:
“Oh, we started doing that a few weeks ago. Mel didn’t want to at first but I have to admit its something I always wanted to try, so we got really drunk one night and gave it a go. Don’t worry, I was very gentle. And we used lube. We took it nice and easy and eventually we managed to get the whole of me in,” I sipped my tea. I looked up and noticed Mel had come back into the room. She looked pretty fucking scared. I switched my gaze to her parents. Mel’s dad was sitting perfectly still, but his fists had clenched. Mel’s mum had put down her dainty little china teacup and her mouth had fallen open ever-so-slightly.
“What’s going on?” asked Mel, her voice quavering.
Mel’s mum responded: “I asked Spanky if he’d like to take you round the back,” she adjusted her skirt. “I thought he might like to see what your father’s done with the greenhouse and the rockery.”
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 15:44, 7 replies)
The first girl who didn’t kick me out of bed the next morning muttering something like: “Urrggghh, you hideous freak! Fuck off!” or “Sorry I was really drunk, I though you were your mate,” was someone named Mel (Melanie, not Melvin – I performed a rigourous check of her undercarriage for excess cock n balls the first night we slept together and received a resounding negative response in the tranny-fucking department, thank fuck). Things were getting pretty serious between Mel and I, so I found myself invited round to her parents for tea and biscuits. And I was suddenly absolutely fucking terrified.
Mel had talked about her parents. They were liberals. Throwbacks to the 60’s when love was free, pills were cheap, and the music wasn’t quite as shit as it is now. I imagine Mel was conceived at an all night love-in somewhere. She was a scouser: for all I knew I could’ve been shagging the bastard love-child of John Lennon; she did look a bit like John Lennon, come to think of it. Only with tits. And I knew from speaking to Mel they were very open about everything, inculding sextalk with their dear daughter. That really freaked me out. Mel’s mum probably had a written report on her kitchen table about my shagging technique. It gave me the fucking willies.
So, we go round to her parents house. I’m sat perched on the edge of an armchair silently shitting myself as Mel’s mum and dad sit on the sofa opposite. We have tea. We have biscuits. Mel pops out for a minute and her mum asks me a question. I blink. I try and process the question. Doesn’t work. I gulp, blink, blink again. Then I start to reply:
“Oh, we started doing that a few weeks ago. Mel didn’t want to at first but I have to admit its something I always wanted to try, so we got really drunk one night and gave it a go. Don’t worry, I was very gentle. And we used lube. We took it nice and easy and eventually we managed to get the whole of me in,” I sipped my tea. I looked up and noticed Mel had come back into the room. She looked pretty fucking scared. I switched my gaze to her parents. Mel’s dad was sitting perfectly still, but his fists had clenched. Mel’s mum had put down her dainty little china teacup and her mouth had fallen open ever-so-slightly.
“What’s going on?” asked Mel, her voice quavering.
Mel’s mum responded: “I asked Spanky if he’d like to take you round the back,” she adjusted her skirt. “I thought he might like to see what your father’s done with the greenhouse and the rockery.”
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 15:44, 7 replies)
Nice
I'd imagined the right half of this photo - how could i have missed the left half ...
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 16:36, closed)
I'd imagined the right half of this photo - how could i have missed the left half ...
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 16:36, closed)
Fantastic
You have a woman for every qotw, and always so excellently written.
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 17:09, closed)
You have a woman for every qotw, and always so excellently written.
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 17:09, closed)
Melanine?
I can't decide whether that's Melanie. Or Melamine.
But anyway... *clicks hard*
( , Sat 12 Sep 2009, 21:31, closed)
I can't decide whether that's Melanie. Or Melamine.
But anyway... *clicks hard*
( , Sat 12 Sep 2009, 21:31, closed)
I must be losing my touch...
Didn't realise it was a Spanky post until the end - but yet another masterpiece!
Gets my click :)
( , Mon 14 Sep 2009, 13:46, closed)
Didn't realise it was a Spanky post until the end - but yet another masterpiece!
Gets my click :)
( , Mon 14 Sep 2009, 13:46, closed)
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