Mother thinks her son doth protest too much.

Ah this QOTW has been a great catalyst for nostalgic musing upon when Rotimer was a virile stallion as opposed to a pasty fwapper.

During the long summer months of my teenage years (before we acquired Briggsy's house for our debauchery) we used to hang around outside the hospital next to my house.

It was a delightfully sprawling edifice but thankfully only about half of it was still in use and it only dealt with elderly patients meaning there were no screaming ambulances or security to speak of.

My mother used to be employed in the hospital doing a bit work in the kitchens and cleaning so her and her friends were well aware that we were lurking around doing naughty things like drinking and touching girlies boobs but we kept out of sight and they didn't waggle their fingers condescendingly.

However this all changed when I returned home one day from a good session of drinking cider to find my mother mid-way betwixt fury and mirth. Apparently one of her colleagues had told her that she saw me, pale white arse pumping away, having sex against a wall right outside the hospital kitchens.

Now as this was complete nonsense I obviously had a bit giggle and attempted to protest my innocence but alas my mother's friend had been very specific that it was my good self that she saw beavering away.

This is where I become confused as, at this point, I had long flowing hair reaching most the way down my back and wore a leather jacket. Now in Cestria in the time of my youth this was very rare, I'd only ever seen a couple of other blokes sporting long locks and let's face it I looked a prick in the leather jacket so I doubt anyone else would have been rushing to imitate me.

These facts worked totally against me and I was unable to make any headway convincing my mother that I was not the lucky participant in a knee-trembler. To this day she doesn't believe me.

So there we go, I got caught having sex in public by a friend of my mother and didn't even get the joy of dipping my wick to counter the shame of discovery.
(Rotimer was micturating windward at, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 16:34, 4 replies)

Another good story
keep it up dear boy

*click*
( chart cat has an itch, Tue 28 Apr 2009, 8:01, closed)

You write like a pro...

However, I can't decide if I mean 'pro' as in 'professional', or 'prostitute'.

What I am sure of, on the other hand, is that I think you are a future star in the making on these pages, and I will watch your career with great interest...

and very possibly a semi-on.

*click*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 28 Apr 2009, 19:46, closed)

Both of you are too kind...
... many thanks.

However I fear I may actually have to resort to going on the game if I've any hope of acquiring enough sordid tales to compete with your seemingly endless supplies of filth and debauchery.

Oh, and upon re-reading my post I thought it best to clarify that when I say "pasty fwapper" I meant of poor complexion. I wasn't stating that I have a fetish for wanking off pastry products.
(Rotimer was micturating windward at, Wed 29 Apr 2009, 11:09, closed)

The last line of your reply
made me laugh through my nose.

I have a cold.

I also now have a snotty shirt.
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Wed 29 Apr 2009, 16:08, closed)