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This is a question Not having sex

Our pal Freddie Woo says: Climbing into the back seat of the car, she sat on a fortnight-old bag of food shopping I had completely forgotten about. The stench of a bag of bean sprouts popping open is a real passion-killer, I can tell you for nothing. Tell us about the shag you didn't have because you blew it.

(, Thu 22 May 2014, 14:01)
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Hello, ladies.
After all those years, I strode back into my old local, the ink barely dry on my Ph. in Poon Subjugation from the University of George!town (it's like a regular doctorate only they give you the Ph. and you give them the D), and immediately spotted my next conquest propping up the bar and clearly just waiting for me to arrive.

Beginning the special breathing exercises I learned during my Ph. to overcome the fear of actually talking to a real woman, I sidled up to the bar and coughed discreetly to ensure this fine specimen's attention was drawn to my polo shirt, exclusively embossed in gold with the logo "PUA". She was not slow to respond.

"Pooer? I hope you're not trying to say you want to take a dump on me."

Needless to say, I was quick to put the record straight and let her know what she was in for:

"No no, love, it's nothing like this. This polo shirt -" underscored with a wink for good measure "is issued only to certified fanny rats."

"Eurgh! You're not putting rodents anywhere near my fanny. Fuck off, you freak!"

Luckily for me, I knew from my years of training that this was Woman Code for "Terribly sorry to disappoint you, but I was in fact born without any external genitalia, like a Barbie doll, and besides, I'm asexual, and even if I did have a libido, I'd be a lesbian, so I'm biologically immune to your evident studliness."

Safe in the knowledge that this time obviously didn't count and that my record would remain untarnished, I drove home and stripped off my polo shirt, put on some banging tunes and did a power posedown in front of my bedroom mirror just to show myself that I was definitely The Man and that the next poon I met would be gagging to be subjugated.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 17:48, 8 replies)

(, Sat 24 May 2014, 17:52, closed)

(, Sat 24 May 2014, 18:18, closed)
if this doesn't win then you're all shit

(, Sat 24 May 2014, 18:29, closed)
Look George! This cannot continue
I've just had a telephone call my my Nana, she was very distressed. Apparently she caught the bus into town to go and buy a spare copy of the Radio Times (for best), when she dropped her purse. As she bent down to pick it up some lothario mounted her with the intention of getting all up inside her granny poon.

This mystery man took out a book of some description from his TK Max carrier bag and splayed it open on her back as he rubbed himself against her. Mumbling away whilst carrying out the task in hand something about "step one: take off underpants".
"Oh blast and subjugation" he muttered as he took a step back and unbuttoned his dungarees and carefully threaded his arms through 'big boys dress themselves don't they George!' His mummy had encouragingly advised him just the other day.

As he set about removing his undergarments (Spider-man patterned, I'm led to believe) Granny Brady made her escape.

The would-be swordsman cursed away to himself before shouting at my fleeing Gran that she was a "fucking dyke". As she glanced back he was stood dolefully on the street, cock out, stroking and hugging the book while whispering "one day". A lonely tear made it's way down his cheek.

Pack it in mate, that's my Nana.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 18:33, closed)
This is an example of why replies should be able to win.
(, Sat 24 May 2014, 21:10, closed)
"Blast and subjugation!"
George!, you rotter.
(, Sun 25 May 2014, 10:03, closed)
I say! That's good.

(, Sat 24 May 2014, 22:36, closed)

(, Sun 25 May 2014, 7:45, closed)

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