As a teenager...
I was having many-a-fumble with a local farmhand. Being 15 and living in t’country, these generally took place outside, the tops of bale-stacks, fields, copses…you get the idea.

The village I lived in at the time consisted mainly of a large theological college with expansive and lovely grounds. Thusly I could often be found bouncing up and down in a clump of trees on the outskirts of said gardens.

Then one day I was found,

by the President of the College and the Bishop of Oxford, who were having a post dinner stroll and discussing ecumenical matters.

Worst bit about it was probably the fact that the President was very good friends with my Dad.

It still makes me cringe now.
(Bliss/Full up to the brim, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 14:58, 4 replies)

I miss read that as
bale-stacks, fields, corpses...
(Tibble off the crack since, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 15:23, closed)

I like
That would be an ecunemical matter!
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 17:57, closed)

ya legend !


who more appropriate to get caught by than a bishop, especially the one from Oxford... I sincerely hope that no protection was employed, hands washed before or after, and that any position other than missionary was practised.. give the smarmy pious pricks a lesson in real life ... mind you I'm betting both he and the president parted company early that evening and went home to beat the meat off themselves, imagery supplied by your good self and the unknown farm hand.

hats off
(The Cats Twat, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 20:57, closed)

*bows*

(Bliss/Full up to the brim, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 10:38, closed)