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This is a question I'm going to Hell...

...because I said the Lord's Prayer backwards at a funeral to summon up the Goat of Mendes, Freddie Woo tells us. Tell us why you're doomed.

Thanks to Kaol for the suggestion

(, Thu 11 Dec 2008, 13:09)
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I've been saving this one
which could have fit quite well in either of last week's QoTWs. But for this, I'm going to hell.

I got married (for the first time) when I was 20, and not 20 in a mature way, no, 20 in a stupid, yet-to-grow up way.

Naturally, I got married because my wife was pregnant. As stupid people do when they are 20.

Anyhoo, at this age in my life my father lived in a large house in the north of France, surrounded by WW1 cemeteries. As my marriage was beginning, his was coming to an end.

My wife, young baby and I went over to see him in the summer. Initially, we met up with him and his then wife at a coastal resort, then the four of us (i.e. without his wife) stayed at his place.

On the last night of our stay, my father wanted to cook us a special meal. He also asked if we minded if his girlfriend came over, as he wanted us to meet her.

Isobel was French (of course), in her mid-twenties and very good lucking. Way to go, Dad, despite the fact that I still liked his soon-to-be-ex wife, my stepmother.

Before the meal, much champagne was drunk, and some beer. My wife didn't drink so she watched the three of us get sloshed and then more sloshed with the meal, as we drank several bottles of wine. So much so, that Isobel had to leave the table to be discretely unwell.

After the meal, my father got out some awful Spanish liqueur which finished him off. As he staggered to his bed, my wife decided to finish packing in our bedroom, which was on the ground floor.

That left myself and Isobel, and in a pattern that was repeated with his other girlfriends in years to come, she then told me how unhappy my father made her. Not something I could easily deal with, and there wasn't much of a response I could make.

She cried. I gave her a small hug of consolation.

She cried more. I hugged her briefly again.

She cried more; I gave her a small hug and suddenly, her tongue is down my throat. At the time, I had only "slept with" two women in my life, and so (in a very weak defence) my loins took over where prudence would have told me to back off instantly.

Then, we're going upstairs; past my wife who asked me where I was going. I said I was showing Isobel to her bedroom. Yes, I really was that drunk.

In one of my half-brother's bedrooms, we made the beast with two backs.

However coitus was interrupted after several moments with my wife banging on the door to ask what we were up to; the bedroom after all being above our bedroom, and the athletic humping on the floor echoing around the house.

The fact that I had carnal knowledge of my father's mistress would have been bad enough, the fact that my wife caught us at it somewhat worse, but what guarantees my ticket to the netherworld is that the evening wasn't just our last night in France...but the evening of my first wedding anniversary.


- yes, my dad found out about it - Isobel told him that apparently I fucked like he did. Such knowledge no-one should have;
- yes, the marriage didn't last much longer;
- yes, he got his revenge on me by shagging one of my girlfriends some time later;
- my wife got her revenge on me in some complex and devious ways;
- yes, I have now grown up and wish this incident had never taken place. I'm not the person now I was then, thank God.
(, Thu 11 Dec 2008, 15:00, 3 replies)
You should see my eyes
They're like dinner plates after reading that... :-o
(, Fri 12 Dec 2008, 7:33, closed)
Revenge tales, please.
(, Sat 13 Dec 2008, 19:10, closed)
Your Dad
Sound cool.
(, Sun 14 Dec 2008, 15:05, closed)

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