Many, many years ago
back when I was an actual human being that wasn't unwittingly repulsive to ladies for some reason, I had one of these "sex lives" that the Loose Women keep banging on about.

One day, a couple of friends of mine decided to go out on their motorbikes along an old disused railway that runs past where we live (the track was torn up years ago). So myself, my young lady and her little brother walked down the railway to wait for them.

There's a little place about a mile down the track known as the beeches. It's a lovely little place, secluded, surrounded by trees with a little stream running through it. Well, romance soon overcame us and after she had managed to send her little brother off to play nearby, we got busy against one of the trees.

We managed a few minutes of bliss before hearing my friends bike start up in the distance, so we hurriedly finished up, and I romantically tossed the used, luminous green johnny into the stream.

After a few seconds of straightening ourselves up, we heard her brother going "Eeeeeeew" and emerged to find him standing not ten feet from us, holding in his hand a stick with a very familiar luminous green rubber johnny hanging from it with a long thick glob of man-juice dribbling from the end.

It's a strange sight seeing your girlfriend being chased by her ten year old brother who is bradishing a condom you only took off thirty seconds earlier.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 19:59, 2 replies)

On your mum's grave

(SSSSS, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 19:56, Reply)

Henry VII
He was always my favourite king. Here was a man who brought an end to a century and a half of destructive civil war. A man who re-organised the royal finances so that, on his death, big bearded son Henry VIII had enough cash to wage joyous war on the French. And a man who, with the simple gesture of taking on Royal pretender Lambert Simnel into his household as a cook after his failed uprising, sent a measured and layered message to those who sought to take his throne; I'm so not fucking bothered by you shower of shits that I'll even give your cowed and beaten poster boy a job in my kitchens.

I was therefore even happier than I otherwise would've been on the occasion of fucking my girlfriend on the site of the Battle of Bosworth Field on a glorious summers day. I paid copious homage to the monarch at the site of the victory that gave him the English throne, before wiping the excess homage on my jeans.
(Light, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 19:32, 2 replies)

Children crossing
1) In a shop dressing-room cubicle. She was trying on a short summer skirt; I tried my tadger in her tight-fitting nethers. Sans tissues and condom, the dress was ruined and she didn't buy it.

2) Blow job on a bus. We sat at the back and there were about eight pensioners sitting at the front. The twisting mountain road somehow made for a more pleasurable experience as the g-forces encouraged the occasional deep-throat moment.

3) On a hiking path. When a group of Women's Institute walkers emerged suddenly round the bend, I had to pretend I'd fallen upon my wife, whose legs had parted to protect my fall. Nobody was convinced.

4)Atop a mountain peak. As dusk fell over the pine forests of southern Poland, we stood at the safety barrier above a 1000m drop. Or rather, I stood in close proximity behind her, and she bent over.

5) Graduation day. Her parents and mine took us out for a meal and I flicked her bean as she was sitting next to my dad. "Not at the table, Frank!" he said. I finished her off by tongue when we got back, making the parents wait 20 mins for their cup of tea.

6) Outside a Greek Orthodox church. That one was unconsummated as I reached out for a rope for balance and inadvertently starting ringing the bell in the campanile above. People at the nearby restuarant seemed interested.

7) In a picnic field in Slovakia. We were surrounded by around 40 people siting on blankets and enjoying the rustic scenery. I slipped her one from behind as she sunbathed face down. "Hurry up and come - people are watching!" she said.

My response: "Wait - there's a group of school kiddies just coming along the path. I'll do it when they're right in front of us."

Seemed more debauched that way.

Flying visit only. Too busy at work to honour my b3ta commitments.
(frankspencer, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 18:55, 4 replies)

Spanish beaches
Further expanding on the previous posts, I recall giving a blowjob to a Spaniard (large muscles, yummy) underneath what I thought was a first aid hut. It wasn't. It was a Police hut. They hated cruising round those parts and as soon as the copper out the back clocked me, I turned on my heel and legged it the two miles home.

Another time, I gave a blowjob to a German waiter in return for some weed. Does that make me a whore?
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 18:18, 3 replies)

A pub
To expand on my last post, I used to work in a pub in the late 90s/early 2000s that became something of an education to me once I moved into the flat above it. I nicked one of the barmen's shags and took him upstairs for a quick one, but having no lube or condoms, went through into my flatmate's room. He was having a 3some, so they then came and joined us... it was an interesting night, all things told.

It was all pretty rampant there, and if I was in the mood, I'd leave my door open. One housemate - actually two come to think of it - used to come through when their boyfriends were snoring next door and hammer seven shades of satan's knobsack out of me. Very nice.

I also gave someone a blow job on the roof, in the back yard, fucked my other half in the bathroom and two bedrooms, and gave a blow job in the garden.

I enjoyed working there.

(Oh and the best sexual injury I've ever had was carpet burn to the forehead).


Say what you like about sluts, but at least they have fun.
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 18:09, 1 reply)

Places I've done it
A park

The roof of my old work

The toilets of my old work

The garden of my old work

A car park in Southampton

Toilets everywhere I've visited

Secluded lanes and tracks in the country

Oh and I got fisted out of a fifth storey window once in a hotel in Brighton.
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 18:01, 2 replies)

so i suppose its not on to pearoast from only a fortnight ago then...
ah fuck it...

Viking in a duffle coat.

When I was 15 or so my beloved drunken uncle invited me to visit his home in Haugesund in Norway to spend Christmas (oh and also be his best man) yes uncle Malcolm was getting married (again). I should offer some background on my dear, now dead from drink, uncle – always the life and soul of any given party, an irresponsible rogue with scant regard for the result of his actions and even less regard for how and where he got some action – naturally as an impressionable lad I idolised him and had no idea back then how sad and lonely he was and how his life would turn out, to me he was a handsome cad, never without a new suit, a stack of cash (north sea oil rig ROV operator) a twinkle in his eye and a drink in his hand. He taught me the joy of ‘criminal curry” as I later came to christen it, buy the veg – shoplift the meat – easy! He didn’t of course need to steal he just enjoyed the buzz – this trick fed me through college.

So there we are in a bar – a converted bank to be precise, on his wedding night to be even more precise – don’t ask, the man was a law unto himself. The old vault downstairs had been converted to a poolroom just big enough to accommodate a table, two pissed players and maybe a few onlookers. In our thick Glaswegian accents we bantered away, shootin' the shit and pool with simultaneous aplomb. My sensitive teen hormone radar array quickly detected a couple of tall shapely Norwegian girls giggling in the corner; they were older than me, maybe 19 or so and to be frank well out of my league. Shortly, Uncle Malcolm, God love him, tipped me off that the more devastating of the two had been giving me the eye and even better, he started giving me a running commentary under his boozy breath of what she was saying (in Norwegian) to her honey skinned friend about me – now either they were of the assumption neither of us understood the lingo or wily old uncle Malky was far smarter than I thought and was just giving me the necessary confidence boost required to make an approach. Either way fueled by such vital insider info that this Scandinavian sex giraffe had was ‘well up for me’ was just enough to propel me into ‘Why yesh! Of coursh I pull like James Bond in a girls school’ mode. So lo-and-behold, bit of chit chat and before you could say ‘6 foot stunner’ there I am doing my best to perform some sort of exploratory esophageal procedure using only my tongue on this (considerably taller than me I should add) vision of Nordic eroticism – they say all woman are the same height when your lying down – well it would seem both parties perched on barstools also provides a pretty level petting field.

So things are bobbing along swimmingly and Uncle Malky's by now well pissed off new bride decides that watching her newly made nephew chewing the face off some elongated bint on a barstool is not her idea of a fairlytale wedding night. So big Malky, ever the gent slips me a wodge of cash – his remaining fags and a note written in Norwegian (for the taxi driver to get me home whenever that might be). So Lovise – no really that was her name, suggests we go to a local nightclub, some place called Dixieland, only a fool might refuse. It is there I meet a positively Brobdingnagian Viking in a duffle coat, yes a large man, in a duffle coat, in a club, in Norway. He looked suspiciously like some lumbering ginger giant at a Paddington Bear convention. The reason for the captious coat soon however soon became apparent – it was, as it turned out, the perfect apparel to conceal a 2-litre coke bottle filled with ‘moonshine’. Having said that I’d have been keen to see the legion of bouncers that would take this fucker on or more so relieve him of his hooch. Hagrids bigger ginger brother was very proud indeed of his moonshine – made it himself apparently, booze cost a fortune back then in Norway. As soon as he leered close enough to learn I was Scottish the clang of the drinking gauntlet tolled far and wide throughout the land. It would be fair report the beverage most kindly proferred was quite breathtaking. It also took some skin off my gums as well.

I can quite honestly say had the numerous shots of (what may well have been kerosene) from this cosy leviathan had not been forthcoming I might well not been daring/drunk enough to allow the lovely Lovise to fold her seemingly endless limbs neatly enough to fit under the table and administer the most bone shattering blow job of my young life. What with there being a couple enjoying a meal in the booth next to us the frisson of danger merely added to the effect.

And they say Norwegians are dull!
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 17:50, Reply)

bus-ted!
i was datig a girl a while back who was, to put it frankly, easy. she used to come if i so much as TOUCHED her, this girl used to pass out and all sorts of shit. as a result, it went from a slap on the ass to naked sweaty monkey sex in double quick time. what she lacked in looks she made up for in sheer enthusiasm. so one time, we're on the top deck of a double decker bus, on a long stretch between stops. we're alone, and in the front seat.. thisb is back when they had periscopes to chekc if you were smoking instead of cctv. so we did what any normal couple would- coat on the persicope, followed by aforementioned monkey sex.
i was approaching the vinegar strokes, trousers at half mast, gf doggystyle against the window, gurning like jim carrey taking a shit at a rave, when the bus pulls up at the traffic lights, and alongside, pulls ANOTHER double decker, this time loaded with people.

it's quite odd, my enduring memories among the row of mocking faces, was one cute girl, with a huge smile on her face, biting her lower lip and looking at me as if she was about to break a window and bus-hop to get in on the action, and just behind her, a REALLY old lady DOING THE SAME.

puts you right off your stroke that sort of thing.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 16:58, Reply)

more a private viewing than a public one.
so, at another b3tan's wedding celebration, i did consume, being as i was a last minute confirmation and therefore didnt' make the dinner table, merely the bar while evryone else ate.. a HERoic amount of jack daniels.
i did espy me a comely lass, who was VERY interested in buttering a goodly slice of the loaf. so it came to pass my drunken self ended up in a car with her.
as i began to sober up, some basic math occurred to me, and it became apparent i had broken my own rule of 'thou shalt not fuck that which thou canst not carry by thine self'
this did not deter her, she was eating my face, hand in my fly milking my cock like she was tryig to start a fire.
the uncomfortable part was, we were in the back seat. i was in the middle, sandwiched between her, and her older brother... in the front, to make matters worse, her mother, who was driving, had flicked on the interior light to aid her best mate rolling a ciggie, and was making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, in a half apologetic, half encouraging manner.. this was NOT a good scene.
i decided i needed to extricate myself from this.. we stopped in the town i was headed for, she spilled out of the door behind me like an avenging buffalo, and pinned me against the wall. now this itself is no mean feat, considering i'm 6'3" and 240lbs. she whispered in my ear 'i am GOING to fuck you!'
this was it, i had to get out. racking my brain, i mumbled a hasty excuse about being tired, and not wanting to disrespect said b3tan's family who'd kindly put me up in their house. finally, after much imploring, i managed to cut loose and abscond with my penis, leaving her to it.

i have a confession to make
i probably WOULD have boned her if i didn't have a better plan waiting for me back in reading. i was DRUNK.

i also have another confession to make
, i have since sullied your family home in ways i am not proud of.
thankfully, i did it with a girl you approve of!
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 16:49, 1 reply)

Not me. . .
But a friend once got his end off in the toilets to a club where we live.

He came out the cubicle to a standing ovation from every bloke the toilets.
( the pink chicken sniffer sniffs pink chickens., Sun 26 Apr 2009, 16:21, Reply)

A friend once said
that she and her man decided one night to park their car on a quiet road and do the dirty.
What they didn't realise is that they'd parked next to a speed bump.
She had wondered why all the cars had slowed so much as they drove past.
( Mellicious is made of candy, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 15:50, Reply)

getting a hand job from alf garnet, a pea rost
I was sitting in a pub in Wakefield having a loud conversation about dogging, as you do.

This guy who I had only just met 5 minutes ago(introduced by a friend, so not some pub random) was going into a long story of how he and the gf were into dogging.

One of the rules of dogging apparently is windows down = come over and join in. The couple were getting down to it with him face first in her lady parts when he feels someone reach through the window and start to give some hand relief. Not thinking to look until hes at the vinegar strokes , he saw a filthy wizened old man clutching his penis.

in his words "he was like a tiny homeless Alf Garnet look alike, and he was touching my cock"

we were all staring into our pints looking a bit embarrassed when he filled the silence with

"the worst thing about it though is that that was the best handjob I have EVER received in my life. I have to give him credit for that"

We left shortly after, the voyeurism part of course coming from the slack jawed and wide eyed office types sat behind us who had heard every last word.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 15:15, Reply)

Crossroads
In what is the most jammed crossroads of southern hemisphere, I have no idea how I got into the central garden.

We were shagging over the car's rooftop, wi feet over the hood, when I saw a light over my girl's face. Were the cops.

To my drunk astonishment, she got into the car in a single jump, like a ninja. Me, completely naked, went down to the ground with the cops telling me to turn over slowly.

"Show us your document", they say. Being as I dressed as I came into this world, just stared my cock and started to smile to them. After all, what else could I do?

The guys were nice, anyway. They said me to move somewhere nearby, way less public where I could keep fucking here with no problems.
(surak, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 14:26, Reply)

Get your dictionary out
This is how I told the board of directors exactly when and where I would be having a shag.

Some years ago I worked for a company with a subsidiary in France. Around the same time I was buying a house (when that was still a popular thing to do). I was in a video conference with the board of directors of the French subsidiary, waiting for someone from our side to join. To pass the time we were chatting - in french - about my imminent house purchase.

"So what happens next?" asked the MD, interested in the British house-buying process. "On va passer à l'acte mardi prochain," I said, using a handy phrase I'd picked up while working in France for a year. "My wife and I - ma femme et moi, on va passer à l'acte mardi à 1400".

There was a moment's stunned silence from frogs on the video conference, then they started to laugh. I had inadvertently told them that my wife and I would be having it off next tuesday at 2pm.

"Passer à l'acte" means to have a shag. "Passer l'acte" means to exchange contracts in a housing transaction. Whoops.
(Smale is stuffed, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 13:58, Reply)

back alley, bus stop buggery
It was the first time i'd took my new girlfriend (still together probs not after this though) out for a night on the town. We drank and got drunk mainly her but that happens when you give a girl triple vodkas and cokes and white lines all night.
So we started walking back to her place when she pulls me into a bus stop and starts to fiddle with mr willas so like any teenage lad who had, had none for a month started the jiggery pokery, when this little charver walks towards us bouncing like they do and comes and starts watching and looking like hes likng it until i turn around and he looks shocked. You see back then i had hair down to my shoulders and he thought we were a couple of sexy lezzas so having realised he starts his bounce up again and say
"ERE WHAT YA DEEING WITH THAT LONG HAIR CUNT FOR YOU WANT A PROPER LAD"
and then walked towards me as I pull my two first digits out of my ladies vagina. Now i'm not tough but beer muscles are beer muscles so why waste them, so i stood up which i can scare people with becasue of my giant hight so the young man backed away with a higher bouce trying to reach my face but only managing shoulder hight realises that my shoes are bigger than him and starts his bouce backwards now shouting
"DON'T MESS WITH THE MAD DOGS (a local gang who i dont think knew him because i would not be here now to tell this tale).
Well we laughed and I'd impressed the young lady (in my mind my little head man was doing his dance of happy and old willas knew he was getting some) so we walked were there would be no people to the alley behind this old pub near were she lived. Bang i bent her over whipped them sexy knickers down and banged away like an oil drill not even stopping for the old man walking his dog who strangley didnt seem to notice us. After about 10 minutes my balls were cold because for some reason i decided to pull my pants and trousers all the way down for more give. So i pulled out whipped my trousers up and slapped than fine ass, its sexiest but i love the arse (which i got a week later) damn my girl is easy and thats why i love her.
(Agent Dale Pooper k in the p, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 12:37, 7 replies)

I was arrested for dogging.
One of the owners complained.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 11:36, Reply)

Back of her dad's car...
... while he was driving us home from a concert, she was sucking me off.
(randomstupidname would really like this signature field to be bigge, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 10:44, 3 replies)

Inadvertent High School Legend
I was fourteen. I was lucky enough for my parents to pay for me to go on the schools annual Spain trip. A trip where the students run around theme parks picking fights with Spanish kids by day, and a trip where teachers put students to bed early, smoke, drink, probably take drugs and then fuck each other later on. (Yes, my school was somewhat rough)


It was so exciting. All my mates were going, but more importantly, the fittest girl in the school was going. Her name was Samantha. She had perfect olive skin, natural blonde hair, eyes as blue as the ocean and an arse that would even distract Ulrika Johnson from the cock for 30 seconds. Everyone adored her, everyone wanted to know her, and every boy wanted to fuck her. She was attractive, but she was also, nice. The kind of girl who would grow up, marry her one true love, have loads of adoring kids and bake you cakes on a daily basis. She was just perfect. Of course, I had no chance, she was in her last year at school, and she was older, more mature. No shame in that though, as no guy in the school had a chance with her, the rumour was, she hadn’t even kissed a boy before.

Anyway, the holiday was fantastic. We went to water parks, the Nou Camp, a theme park and the beach. More importantly, we found a bar that would serve us alcohol and didn’t really mind if we were sick on the dancefloor as long as we mopped up after ourselves. The most pleasing thing for me though was, amongst all the guys who were constantly trying to get into Samantha’s pants, it was yours truly she genuinely seemed to take a shine to. Unfortunately not in a way that she fancied me, but in a way, she liked my cheeky character, my caring ways and the fact that I had been the only lad to not try and get in her pants.

Now, If anyone has taken a coach trip to Spain, you will realise that it’s a fucking long way. I mean, it takes about 24 hours with the ferry ride included. So imagine the delight I felt when the gorgeous Samantha decided to sit next to me for the journey home. I was like a dog with two dicks, a cat who got the cream, Dale Winton with a cock in his mouth. Absolutely delighted!

So we set off home, it was a hot, hot day, about 30 degrees. First couple of hours we just had a bit of fun, everyone joining in, playing games, fooling around. So were having fun, it’s hot, Samantha keeps rubbing against me (not on purpose) and now I’m getting a bone on. One hour, two hour, 3 hours. It’s not going anywhere. Now she’s sleeping on me, constantly fidgeting on me while I uncomfortably try to conceal my hard on. More hours go by until…………SHIT I can take no longer, the erection has been there so long I have blown my bolt straight into my shorts. I can’t explain the guilt I felt as she lay there sleeping, it was technically rape, she had unknowingly made me gizz myself yet she lay there sleeping. On the other hand I was joyous, I mean, only minor details are preventing me being the first guy to have sexual contact with the gorgeous Samantha. All of a sudden, horror. As no later than a minute after the cumming incident, the teacher stops the coach and makes everyone get off for a food break. I look down, and let’s just say, the blue cotton shorts I were sporting were not helping matters.

I shamefully walk off the coach to a load of 16 year old lads taunting me, saying I had pissed myself. On and on they went the bastards. On and on, and on and on until I couldn’t take anymore. On and on until the embarrassment was too much and I just shouted out ‘FUCK OFF, IT’s NOT PISS AND IF YOU MUST KNOW IT’S SPUNK’

As soon as I said this I have to admit I feared the worse. Instead it had an adverse affect, the guys assumed that Samantha lying all over the innocent 14 year old lad, hugging him, lying on his lad under a beach towel had wanked him off. That was it then, I didn’t say anything, and amazingly the gorgeous Samantha didn’t say anything. The lads quizzed her, and taunted her all the way home and amazingly she said absolute nothing. All of a sudden, I have transformed from a cummy pants teenager to a fittest girl in the school hand job legend.

She got home, she took her GCSE’s and left school three weeks later. I got home, and for the next two years was touted as the school legend. I had pussy on tap for the next two years, I never told anyone the real truth until I left.

I even got a bit cocky and started the rumour it was a hand job/ blow bob.

She’s living in Australia now.
(Sir_Digby_Chicken_Caeser [email protected], Sun 26 Apr 2009, 10:42, 5 replies)

Not wanting to skite
but after reading some of these stories I have to... Remembering that I spent 12 years traveling makes more sense.

Rolling over in a bed in a hotel in Cyprus and seeing a group of women giggling after watching my performance with a young lady. They had climbed a private staircase by accident I assume.

In my cabin on a ship passing through the Welland Canal Locks (great Lakes) and giving a right rogering to my then girlfriend when a crowd of tourists, not two metres away, standing on the edge of the lock, slowly rose into view as the ship rose in the water. We paused until they disappeared from view and I didn't count the camera flashes.

Getting a bj on interstate 45, slowing down of course, and having this truckie keep pace with me in the fast lane while his passenger seemingly gave him a running commentary on what was happening. I couldn't shake him for miles.

Having a bonk in full public view in the plaza de mayo. She wearing a long skirt and I with shorts. Took at least half an hour so not to arouse suspicion though the vinegar strokes were a little hard to hide.

Klaipeda. A little love in the dunes watched over (unbeknown to me) by three soldiers in a watchtower. During a post coital cigarette ( nothing beats a ciggie afterwards) saw the flashes and recognised the watchtower with 3 figures with binoculars.

The fourth hole at Greenock Golf Course, having a cuddle on a rare summers day when some ejit over shot and the ball landed half a metre away in our bushes. Cuntsocks called his mates over to look for his ball and there he espied an extra two seemingly buried up to the hilt in some rabbit burrow. Coughs and splutters they ambled off forgetting their original quest.

bj from a total stranger (female luckily) who after a two hours conversation into our nine hour journey to London, in a Nat Express luxury coach(!), demanded, yes demanded to give me a bj under cover of a rug even though it was nightly. A few slurps later I found myself making strange noises from the back of my throat which seemed to attract the attention of a number of fellow travellers. Coughing only made matters worse as I tended to thrust with each spasm - which was nice - try it.

The best or most public (accidentally) was when my ex and I were driving up the North Island in NZ when we came across this turn off which led to a what can only be described as a two storey mausoleum in the middle of nowhere. (Near Palmerston North, you may know it - Memorial to WW1) We climbed up the stairs at the back and had a picnic in the sun behind this type of balustrade on the 'roof'. After our wine and sammiches we deamed a quickie au natural as the perfect dessert. Taking her from behind while she rested her arms on the balustrade we were soon enjoying the moment, the passion, the view and the giant tour bus pulling into the car park.Ten thousand people waved at us from the windows of the bus, while we, pounding away, waved merrily back. They could only see our shoulders and heads so we felt quite right in carrying on.And on we did finishing the moment with rather large cheesy grins.
(Jimmyinnz was sprung at work on b3ta on, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 8:11, Reply)

Thinking back I seem to enjoy being in the public eye.
Recieving Oral on the Motorway, getting spotted by a group of guys passing us and giving a knowing smile and thumbs up.
More bushes and woodlands than I can count, mostly getting caught by other young couples looking for somewhere to enjoy themselves too.
Over a busy street out of a window, my lovely lady friend at the time telling anyone passing who could hear that she was indeed having sex overhead.
Under a bridge, getting moved along by the police who I'm pretty sure had been watching us for at least 5 minutes, had the decency to let me finish.
In a Golf bunker at 3am.
In a sand dune next to a popular Scottish Golf course as dog walkers passed by a few feet away (never again sand hurts like fuck in the sexy areas).
Hand jobs and the like in the cinema, at gigs and on buses.
In a room with most of my friends and my younger brother at new years, so pissed we thought everyone was totaly out of it, still occasionally get the piss ripped for that one.
And of course the public toilets in a bar, the least sexy thing I have ever done.
( Laird Dave Draws Now charges to take off his clothes., Sun 26 Apr 2009, 2:41, Reply)

Not outside..
*unlurks*

the closest I've got to that is in a tent, which isn't that interesting.

Before leaving for uni, I used to work in a little independent clothes shop just up the road from my house. As the place was so tiny, when I worked it would only be me there, so I had my own set of keys to get in (you can probably see where this is going)..

Cue one late night last year, getting back into town after some house party, the boyfriend and I, both absolutely hammered and horny beyond all sense and meaning of the word, decide the best idea is to pass by the shop for some cuddles and fluffy tiem before going to my house. Less than thirty seconds away.

My memory goes hazy in that charming alcohol-fuelled way, so I have no idea if I even locked the door behind us again when we got in, but luckliy memory returns with the tearing off of clothes (literally in the case of my tights..), lying back on the counter and getting a thorough, delicious fucking. My legs buckled once I stood up again. We ran home afterwards giggling like loons, and now when I work the odd day there out of term time my otherwise boring day is slightly lightened knowing I got laid right in my place of employment.

And now, reading other people's stories, I realise just how lucky I was to not have had anyone passing by (the shop has a glass front -- we would've been easily visible from the street), or to have had anything furry appear and try to molest me or the boyf. Good times!

We'd do it in the changing room downstairs after I'd closed the shop on a few occasions.. is great seeing yourself getting taken from behind in a full-length mirror, I think.
(dogman, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 2:06, Reply)

I've got a TON of these!
Though, the question is: which one do I tell so that everyone doesn't think: WHORE!

:)

When I first started spending more time as 'Me' (see previous posts folks, I am Transgendered) I was out of cigarettes! Yikes! It was 3:15am, I had JUST gotten home (thanks to a cabbie) and I was absolutely PLASTERED! There is a gas station about 3 miles from my house...so I figure: why not teeter up there ang pick up some cigs?

So, I wobble out of my house, feeling like I look pretty good and walk through the SKETCHY industrial estate between my neighborhood and the gas station.

I am zigzagging through the industrial park and am passing this truck. In the truck, unknown to me, was a trucker who, apparently had enjoyed watching me zigzag along.

As I come even with the cab, he rolls down the window and literally scares the HELL out of me! I 'yelped'!

So he looks down, at what I am SURE, is one HOT lady and says "Hey Hon, How about a blowjob?"

Now, I had been struggling (and continue to do so, frankly) with my sexuality, and I was thinking: Ya know, why not give this guy the thrill of his life and satisfy this 'inner urge' of mine?

So I look up at him, kinda bashfully and say "Um, okay."

So I climb up into the cab of his truck (Huge, fek off Lorry) and sit in the seat. I am trying to find the right words: "So, big boy, drop them panties!" or "So, You wanna get him out for me?" and the guys leans over and starts kissing me. "Hmmm...Wasnt expecting that!" He starts reaching up my skirt and I squeeze my thighs together to keep his hand from discovering my 'secret' and he says "How am I going to get him out of there to put him in my mouth?"

I was SHATTERED! I mean, here I was CONVINCED I was TOTALLY 'passable' as a woman and here this guy wanted to give ME a Blowjob!

When he finished up (and it was DIVINE) I said "Want me to return the favor?" Thinking: Surely he wants me to finish him off. But NO. He says "HOn, You better get along. My wife is due here in about 20 minutes."

WHAT WHAT?!

So, I slip outta the truck, fall FLAT on my ass, stand up, to find my knees were surprisingly wobbly and turn around and ask "Do You have any cigarettes?" he tossed me half a pack of Marlboro reds and says "Have a good night Dude!"

ARGH! Still, I got my ciggies!

PS(SOrry if this story offended anyone. I really am NOT a whore!)
(ThatGirl The Girl Formerly Known as A-man-duh, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 1:02, 3 replies)

List
Random place no. 1
Random place no. 2
Random place no. 3
Random place no. 4
Random place no. 5
Random place no. 6
Random place no. 7
Random place no. 8
etc.

Anyone else bored of lists? I know I've got no entertaining stories to put forward, but the repetitive lists are getting somewhat tedious, are they not?
(TheColonel, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 0:50, 7 replies)

In a field just a tad to starboard of the incoming flight path of Birmingham International Airport.
The back of the 144 bus surrounded by other students...without them knowing (well maybe without them knowing).
A graveyard...which sounds a great deal more depraved than it was.
The Rondo theatre in Bath.
The garden at my shared house one blisteringly hot Summer afternoon.
The same garden 12 hours later.
The Ladies changing rooms in M&S.
The Malvern Hills.
The Aegean...not all of it...just a nice shallow bit near the island I was on.
Euro Tunnel.
The M5, M4 and A38.
In the works document archive.

And no...I don't do dogging




or Barmitzfahs
( Attila the Bun is not in a right cunt of a mood, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 23:25, Reply)

Sort of public sex...
One of my mates, we shall call him C, has romped off to America to be with his boyfriend for a bit, and to have a spot of teh bumgay love. Now, C was a virgin before this trip, and when he told us that he was gonna be taking it up the chocolate chute, we ribbed him for a bit and then told him he'd be a man.

We all kept in contact via the magic of MSN and Facebook, so we knew roughly when C was gonna be getting shafted by his boyfriend. Me and my other mate, A, were gonna post something up on Facebook afterwards, alluding to his cock sandwich the night before.

What we weren't expecting was him to post a status change about 5 minutes presumably after being bumgayed about how he's not so pure any more. I'm also pretty sure his 18 year old sister and through her, the rest of his family, weren't expecting him to make such a public statement.

We may have also posted up about how he loves the cock and man-gravy and other such delightful euphemisms. So whilst we haven't seen him getting bummed, he's let all and sundry know that he's taken it up the arse. I'm wondering how his parents will react to that knowledge, especially as he told them he was staying with a friend...
(Ghost Atreides enjoying incontestable health benefits on, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 23:07, Reply)

When I worked in a gym with posh pools
there was often underwater monkey business among the members, all of whom assumed that a. they'd thought of it first and b. nobody knew what they were up to. Wrong! We knew all the dodges and watched out for them.

The 'spa pool' was a giant jacuzzi with flat underwater platforms to recline on - just right for, say, a young man to lie back on, and if a young lady happened to slip onto his lap and wriggle a la cowgirl, then the bubbles would hide everything. Yeah.

Word soon spread when this happened and staff would suddenly find important jobs to do in the balcony overlooking the spa pool. The male exhibitionist would sometimes glance up and see the audience - we sometimes got a grin or even a thumbs-up - whle the women, concentrating on staying in the saddle, never noticed.

Strangely, the balcony stayed empty when the gym's over-60s members availed themselves of the bubbly smokescreen for a spot of shaky mutual masturbation or a wrinkly shag.
There's no accounting for taste.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 21:40, Reply)

The Manor club
where my 16/17 year old self frequented every Friday religiously. After the downing of Smirnoff Ice by the statue that always has a cone on its head, my friends and I would queue up, heads held high to mask the fear that we would get asked for ID (Pretty rare-they didnt give a shit) and upon entering would order copious amounts of neon coloured booze with straws in.

Being the only alternative place around and somewhere that the bouncers would turn a blind eye to my bug eyed, scrawny and blatantly underage self; it was something of a haven to me. Though I look at it through rose tinted specs now, it must be said that it was a bit of a dive.

As soon as you entered you were met with a sweaty mass of body odor and cigarette smoke coupled with questionable metal/rock music. We would always get pissed and some of my friends went through a phase of walking around in their bras (I never did that; I'm a Goddamn prude really) and we all took part in heavy petting in the various dark, dank, sweaty heaving corners of the club. All kinds of shit happened there, sometimes even on the less discreet podiums.

A friend and I went a good few years ago at a time when we really should have known better (IE we were both legally allowed in). She was going through a bit of a hedonistic phase and we spent the evening getting off (Ugh, sorry to use that expression) with various gentlemen (Thank God for low lighting), mainly because Sally, as we shall call her, was pushing my face against any random chap who happened to walk past (honest guv).

Sally eventually ends up swapping saliva with a fellow for longer than 3 minutes and they wonder off to a secluded area leaving me to waddle aimlessly and vodka induced around and around, passing them occasionally to see that they are still getting hot and heavy. Hmm. After circling the club endlessly like some drunken spack-tard, Sally finally escapes the dank corner and greets me with a lurid grin and a suspicious transluscent stain on her skirt that she is POINTING out to me like some kind of medal.

Yes folks she wanked off some random in a club who came on her skirt. It probably looked like that scene from the Inbetweeners, including the underage audience. The skirt, after (I hope) many a wash would become known as the 'Cum-skirt' or 'C-Skirt' when in public.

Upon reading the other entries (and what most people get up to in the Manor) this is quaint, Victorian dross, but its the only thing I can think of as I have obviously not been that sexually adventurous in my life. So there.

Edit: Did give a hummer a club toilet once. Its just wrong.
(Eldoofus, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 20:39, 7 replies)

not sure if this counts.....
... but my ex many years ago when I was just a lad had this skirt, which for some reason had these kind of fake pockets- in as much as they looked like pockets but had no bottom. In other words, if I held her from behind under the guise of having a cuddle, say in Boots, and pretended to look for something, I could slip a sneaky finger into her.

It was in a public place, and it was also where she worked- double points!
(randomstupidname would really like this signature field to be bigge, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 20:38, Reply)

Various
Big fan of outdoor activities. I've shagged in various woods, countless times in cars including once on a street in broad daylight.
Have also sodomised a young lady in a public park, got busted by a very surprised driver whilst felating a tranny down a country lane, shagged a tranny whilst being filmed, got caught by the coppers in a 3some with a m/f couple in a country car-park, been tossed off by a lass on a coach, in a busy pub, in a packed nightclub...I get around a bit.
(Trebuchet, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 19:15, Reply)