I was under the impression
that starting uni would begin an endless, nonstop queue of attractive, intelligent men who would want to make sexy tiem with me and that marriage would be on the cards as soon after graduation as possible (mainly because this happened to the person who was my main educator in What Happens When You Go To Uni).

Instead, I got Hairy Backed Essex Boy, Twat Ex With Child, Scary Swinger Man, Stalker Girl (though whether she wanted to have sex with me is still unclear), Goth Guy With Cuts, and finally Mr Maladicta, who wasn't even a student and so broke the pattern.

When I was a smaller Maladicta and studying Judaism in crappy Religious Education classes at school, the concept of circumcision came up and I WTF'd over my homework one night. Mummy Maladicta took it upon herself to explain it to me with added visual aids... a banana and a dishcloth.
( Maladicta, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 22:44, Reply)

Not mine
but it was my sad duty to correct it ...

Let me take you back to a time when TheWeeWitch was young, and a newlywed bride. We were revelling in finally having our own home, and determined to bonk whenever, and wherever, the mood took us within that home. We couldn't afford a honeymoon, so spent a couple of weeks off work after the wedding rutting like it was going out of fashion.

When the final Saturday of our "homeymoon" rolled around, my husband took a call from a workmate. Asking him if he wanted to head out that night to "wet the baby's head" as his wife had just delivered their first child. This of course being code for "having an almighty piss-up with a better excuse than usual". So, after the obligatory three S's (shower shit and shave), off he went.

He staggered in at three the following morning, and this was when the misconception came to light.

He was labouring under the misapprehension that slugging down pints of heavy in a smoky pub all night, then scarfing a kebab on the way home (with a nice splodge of chilli sauce decorating his shirt to prove it), then stumbling around the bedroom like a lost baby elephant was some kind of magic aphrodisiac. In his mind, all he had to do was launch himself into bed, grab his peacefully slumbering bride on the arse, and mutter those romantic words,

"Awright, darlin'. Ah've got a massive hard on here with your name on it. You awake?"

My reaction, dear reader, was less than ecstatic. I was slightly less enthusiastic than he presumably expected, and I may even have hurt him (probably not though, he'd had enough booze to knock out a horse) when, instead of turning to him with a gleam in my eye, I rammed my elbow into his solar plexus. Nothing daunted, the bold boy proceeded to fumble around in the general area of my boobs, but managed to find my ribs instead. This earned him another elbowing. His final, desperate attempt to overcome my objections resulted in the strange sensation of his (still slightly cold) hand, rooting around in my nether regions. Well, enough was enough.

I turned to face my beloved, and planted my delicate little paws on his chest. Grabbing a double handful of chest hair, for no reason other than I felt like it, I shoved as hard as I could. He ended up on the floor. I left him there. I went back to sleep.

The next morning, he not only had a really nasty hangover, he also had a bruised bum. I'd love to say that it corrected his misconception, but alas, no. This scenario has been repeated many, many times. I live in hope that one day, he'll work out that I don't like being disturbed in the middle of the night by a pissed bloke who's going to take faaaaaaaar too long, and leave me in peace.

Then, and only then, will I finally know that I've helped him to see the light.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Sat 27 Sep 2008, 22:38, 4 replies)

My misconception
It's a simple one, that my partner would actually want to have sex with me.
(Rollins, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 21:31, 3 replies)

At some point,
all of the staff parties where I used to work descended into games of "I have never", because my boss' wife (the Lady Whelk) had a teenager-esque fixation with the game. Unfortunately, she always said the same handful of things every time we played, so we all knew who had taken it up the wrong'un (Lady W), been tied up (Lady W), spanked (Lady W), slept with a gay man (Lady W), been ριssεδ on (Lady W),shoved a marrow up their αrsε, (duh), been force-fed their own severed nipples (ummm) and who used excessively degrading sex acts to alleviate their chronic lack of self esteem (guess).

One night, when we were all sh!tfaced and having to swig our drinks if we'd ever had our genitals electrocuted (yes, she had), my colleague Greekie banged his fist on the table and exclaimed,

"Enough, Woman! Let us all tell of our most embarrassing moments. I shall start!"

So he started. Greekie, when not much more than a Greekling, was on his national service (which they still have in Greekland), in the wooded, mountainous hills near the north-western border with albania. (or somewhere. I have no idea what it's actually like, so imagine something like endor, with slightly more hills and less merchandising.) Here, he indulged in all the things a young man should: wine, women and shooting guns at albanians.

He had seen a lovely young lady, whom he would later descibe to us as "the prettiest girl in the whole village", and stuck her on his list of things to bang. One friday night, he slid up to her, bought her drinks, and tried to get in her pants. She was a little coy, and not wanting to push his luck (she knew most of the patrons and staff at the bar, and with this being the mountains, they also had guns) he settled for a dinner-date the following night, after which he intended to bone her in the back of his car.

The next day they met. She was the picture of elegance, and he had some condoms in his wallet. She got in his car, and they went to the restaurant.

The waiter took her coat, and she hugged him as an old friend, which it transpired they where. Greekie felt a slight pang of jealousy, which was most unlike him. They ate, talked, laughed, drank, he stroked her leg, she didn't mind. All was well. The night drew to a close, and they left the restaurant.

They got into the car, and the girl said they should head up into the nearby forest, as there was a beautiful view. They parked in a glade overlooking a ravine. Then they embraced, kissed, and after several minutes of frenzied slobbering and groping, the girl was frantically sucking Greekie off on the front seat of his car.

Greekie lay there, panting, dribbles of his man-fat glistening in the girl's hair, knowing that all he had to do now was ϝυcκ her bandy on the back seat and he could get on with not talking to her again.

"Greekie", said the girl, in a small voice, "can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, whatever", he replied dreamily from his post-fellatio haze.
"I really like you, Greekie. I want this to be more than sex. But I have to tell you something first...."
"What?"

Greekie looked at the girl. She was staring at her own crotch. He followed her gaze down, and idly noticed that she seemed to have sat on the gearstick, as there was a bulbous protuberance pushing against the fabric of her skirt, between her thighs, lifting the material like a badly erected marquee. He thought of telling her so she didn't tear her dress. Then it dawned on him.

That wasn't the gearstick.

His eyes widened, transfixed as the girl's engorged glans pushed against her clothes, twitching....

She said "I'm not like other girls", but Greekie wasn't really listening. He simply yelled "YOU'VE GOT A ϜυCΚΙΝG DICK!" instead. She nodded sheepishly.

Greekie thought for a second - nice tits, guaranteed bum fun, but dating a tranny was too much, even for him, and he hadn't planned on seeing her again anyway. He immediatedly started the car and drove her back into town. He had briefly toyed with the idea of leaving her in the woods, but she had a lot of friends locally and he didn't need half the village trying to lynch him the next day. Half the village that had seen them flirting friday, that had seen him buy her dinner and then go up into the woods to shag another man. A man in a dress.

Back in town he kicked her out the car door, said he never wanted to see her again, and drove off....

"...... and that's how I got the best head I have ever had."

We faded back to the party, the telling of stories, peals of laughter resounding around the room.

Greekie's girlfriend sat opposite him, her jaw hanging wide, a look of shock and horror on her face. We all noticed, and stifled our giggles.

"I have never", piped up one of my colleagues, "felt as appalled and ashamed of anyone I have ever dated as I do of my current partner right now."

Without breaking her look of sheer terror Greekie's Girlfriend downed the rest of her drink.

A slightly different "misconception about sex" methinks.... *cough* gender *cough*
(cs1ca, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 20:56, 4 replies)

Not so much a mis-conception as peculiar child thinking...
...when I was a short-arse (about 5), not long after I'd found out what a vagina was, I remember thinking "Would anything happen if a man's penis went in a woman's vagina?"

The answer was pretty satisfactory when it came (when it came...haha), but it meant that when I got told by whoever how babies were made, I wasn't shocked, but vaguely smug that I'd sort of figured it out years ago :).

*splash*
( Extinct Jesus Dossier "...I think it counteracts Hitler's magic...", Sat 27 Sep 2008, 20:44, Reply)

Not exactly sex but genital related...
I used to think boys wee-ed out of their finger tips because whenever you saw them they had their hands in front of them with wee gushing out.
I'm now a biology teacher!
(monstermunchqueen a queen for the people, by the people, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 20:12, 1 reply)

Such a superstud..
My parents were rather prudish.
Let me rephrase that...
My parents were prudier than the mayor of Prude town when he's been injected with prude juice.
When I was about 11 I occassionally played football with my dads football team (a local pubs under 11's) at training sessions. But when the rest of the boys went in the shower (one big communal one) I was made to wait until I got home.
Let me put this simply, I could go into the changing room and see these boys getting in the shower, getting dressed and dried, but I went at home on my own.
Then I started senior school (year 7 as it now is) and I was ordered by my parents to wrap a towel around myself to stop the other boys seeing me when changing.
For years before, and a few weeks during, my senior school life I was convinced that I was unique and that was why the other boys needed to be prevented from seeing me.
Then I looked at the other boys...and I was the same, so what the hell was I struggling behind a towel for?

Having got that off my chest: My major misconception I can trace to my science teather who was nicknamed 'fud' because of how he pronounced 'method'.
He gave me my one and only sex education lesson, and it lasted 40 minutes.
"Sex should take 20 minutes" he proclaimed.
Having just discovered the joys of a hand shandy when I was supposed to be doing homework I actually got a clock and timed myself.
More 'advanced' boys told tales of 'Jims cafe' where if you ordered a certain thing from the menu you got taken upstairs by a lady who'd want money. (I believe that the sum mentioned was 'half a crown' (12 1/2 p))
So when the clocks shown 20 minutes and I'm still going I'm convinced that if I ever go to Jims cafe she'll be so impressed that I'd get my money back !!

My longest misconception was thinking that what comes out of a woman when she's on her period was blood like you cut yourself?
Why don't they tell you about the jelly blobs?
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Sat 27 Sep 2008, 19:38, 3 replies)

teenage naivete
"how do you actually make a guy - actually - you know - come?" my friend evie asked perplexedly one night in the pub. we were about 15 and evie had just given her third ever hand job the night before.

half of us laughed. the other half laughed more uncertainly, and leaned forward for the answer.

"i thought you'd be good at it," zara said, lighting a fag. "you play so much tennis, your wrists must be really strong."

"no," evie persisted, going redder. "they can get it up fine, but i can't actually make them, you know. come."

bearing in mind we were talking about teenage boys here, most of whom could have come in 15 seconds over the smear of what might have been a breast in the shower screen section of the argos catalogue, we were intrigued.

"show us how you're doing it," suggested sam, passing evie a cigarette on which to demonstrate.

the resulting howls and squeals of laughter got us all thrown out of the pub (the classy "george" on the a6, mrsliveinabin and ihaverunoutofcoke).

basically, she was doing it really really slowly. not sensually - you're talking a handjob round the back of the stockport co-op - just really, really slowly. and loosely. and the longer she went on, the slower she got. no wonder all her blokes had just given up.




then again, i can talk. when i met the first mrswipe at 18, i was so besotted with him, it was untrue. but he was going out with my flatmate and we were just mates. then best mates. we always flirted but nothing happened as we didn't want to ruin the friendship. then we were lying on the sofa one night talking idly about sex and i basically ended up betting him that he wouldn't let me give him a blowie. i virtually begged to be allowed to give a blow job...

and when we moved things into the bedroom - about 3 seconds later - i was too scared to go down there for ages because i was terrified i wouldn't be able to make him get it up. every bit of experience i'd had thus far had taken place after considerable periods of snogging and groping. i honestly thought blokes needed a lot of warm up to get an erection.

that might be true in later life for some guys. but at 18? he'd probably have gotten it up for the hamster if it had looked at him over the rim of its water bottle!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 19:19, 4 replies)

Once yearly, nearly
So many mistakes, so little time.

I thought that my first time having sex wouldn't be my last. I also thought it would be good. And that people have sex with you because they like you, not because their ex-boyfriend is next door and they want to make him feel bad. Live and learn, I suppose.

I also thought that having sex was pretty standard, and you couldn't really mess it up unless you stuck your knob in the belly button or something. Unfortunately my future wife has something called "vaginismus", which means she gets very tense and cries when my little fella gets within 10 miles of her lady bits. It's treatable, but it's not something I'd ever heard of.

It does mean we have a lot of oral sex though, so it's not all bad.
(Wogan, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 19:13, 2 replies)

Not my misconception..
but the ex's..

The misconception that I would perform sexual acts on demand at any time of the day (usually when I was asleep) even if we were arguing.

And if I refused he somehow thought a barrage of verbal abuse and whining like a child would make me change my mind.

Why we're not together anymore is beyond me.
(i should have joined myspace, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 17:37, 2 replies)

Me and my ex
pretty much learned it all from each other. Being a guinea-pig was mostly very enjoyable, but there was the odd bit of teething trouble.

Anyone else had a love bite on their bell end? I learned the phrase "not so hard" that day, i think she was under the impression I was some kind of ice lolly.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 14:40, Reply)

Temperature control
Despite an impressive number of conquests, Mrs Flatfrog (in the days when she was just Mrs Flatfrog-to-be) had never appreciated the amazing sensitivity of the testes' temperature control mechanism. One day I happened to explain it to her and she became fascinated by the process.

The result: Half an hour lying on my back while she alternatively breathed warm air and blew cold air onto my scrunchy bits to watch them moving about. Followed by several days of having to resign myself to the knowledge that her entire circle of friends had been treated to a blow-by-blow account (if you'll pardon me).
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 12:52, 4 replies)

how do lesbians fuck?
i'm gay and generally when people find out i get one of two questions (or if they have gumption, both).

1. why did you decide to become a lesbian?

decide is a strong word, i tell them. you dont choose to be gay, you choose to accept it.

2. how do lesbians have sex?

good question, if i knew i'd tell you.

am i being serious- thats the question ;O)
(jenko83, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 10:32, 17 replies)

There was a woman I knew
Who was something of an obsessive gardener. Always watering her plants, she was. Turns out her parents had used a somewhat "alternative" version of the Birds and the Bees conversation, wherein she was told a man's hose watered her garden. She always did look happiest when watering her begonias. Filthy bitch.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sat 27 Sep 2008, 10:14, Reply)

Lies about sexy time...
When I was young, I was lead to believe that women liked to be laid down on beds of roses and gently made love to...

Not so..

No.

Now I am older I realise that women are just as dirty as men and like nothing better than to be treated like pr0n stars or super-cars: shagged rotten at speeds that cause steam rise from their special places and generally ragged, twisted, hammered and to(u)nged to the limit of their powers.



It was a happy, happy day when I made this discovery but if only someone had told me before I got fat and unhealthy so I could have made better use of the knowledge!
(Bifta, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 9:42, Reply)

At the time it was really scary...
When I was about 5, I got curious and asked my mother what sex was....
Her reply:"When a man hugs a woman, then the woman gets pregnant and has a baby. But that's against the law if you're under sixteen."
Naturaly, I had recieved a few hugs in my time, so cue me spending the next two months terrified that I was going to have a baby and be arrested....
(Violet kicks arse for the Lord, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 9:15, 1 reply)

My number one misconception about sex
was that I was going to get it on a regular basis.

As it turns out, a large proportion of people go months or even YEARS in between sex! Who knew?
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 8:39, 9 replies)

Adventures of a Teenage Scrubber...
I was 12 or so when my best friend told me that it was the sensation of a woman's pubes rubbing against your cock that made you jizz.

And that's why I spent at least an hour sitting in the bathroom rubbing my bell-end raw with a toothbrush.

It didn't work.

To my eternal shame, it was my sister's toothbrush... which I guiltlessly placed back on the sink after I gave up.
( DickieDoesDallas eshews witty slogans, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 8:29, 3 replies)

Two Stories
I got interested in girls at 10 years old.
There was a plump girl in my class with reasonably sized breasts (for a 10 yr old) and she was keen on me, so we arranged a date at break time and my mate agreed to keep watch while we did 'stuff' in the store room.

We meet, we kiss, I ask if I can grope, thats fine, I grope and I am flabergasted by their size and beauty...... so much so that I can't contain my joy and want to share it with my friend keeping watch....
Andy Andy!! come here and look at these!! "they're MASSIVE!" he was equally impressed, she was (a little embarrassed) proud of them and the attention (I like to kid myself)

We continued on the bus o the way home, only this time I was going 'downstairs'
I didn't know about pubes at 10yrs old so when I found a single curly black hair in the way, it seemed natural to just pull it off, she wasn't too happy about that either.

Still, a week later I had built a 'den' near a pond mid way between our houses, this was a place where we could have our first sex. Times and dates were arranged.
I was early, gelled hair, shiny BMX. She arrived looking as gorgeous as a 10yr old can and was impressed with my construction skills... we settled down, got naked, I lay on her.....

I thought we were having sex.

I thought, is this what all the fuss is about???? this is....... rubbish!

It took me a further year of 'research' to discover you had to put it 'inside' ...... and another 4yrs to get laid!

Whenever I bump into my mate who kept watch, the conversation always turns to that day.....'do you remember how big they were? oh yes, they were massive, esp for a 10yr old!!



* Also, when I was 13, I was told that as the oldest son I had certain responsibilities, in the event of my fathers death, I would inherit the family bible, I must provide for the family and I must destroy a certain black bag and its contents, located in the bottom of the wardrobe, without looking at its contents. Obviously the next time they went out to dinner I was straight in there. Some clothes, 3 wigs, never knew mum wore those, at the bottom , some vids...
3 mins later the curtains are drawn, front and back doors double locked, vid playing, me watching 'actress' undressing......... all going well, she is gorgeous and I'm excited, camera pans down her slim athletic body, across the toned legs (I'm very excited now, I'm about to see in full colour a moving/living silky wet purse)
Camera pans back up the other tanned leg...I'm about to burst when into shot comes a very large / ugly (unexpected) man cock.
A man cock on a beautiful woman?
This was completely new to me, was this a new crossed breed? I'm I gay, was it a man or woman or what....

"Sorry for the length"
(orangejuicejohns, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 7:46, Reply)

Ahem...
I wonder if the guys responsible for this are b3tans...
( MorpheusRiot Guambats or Guammibears?, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 6:24, 2 replies)

Children are self-righteous little bastards.
I must preface this by saying that as a child, I was convinced that I knew everything and that anything I didn't know I could find out myself.

So, I firmly believed that babies came from God watching a couple get married, seeing how much they loved each other, and then making the woman pregnant on their wedding day. I didn't really think about how multiple children would come about from this, but as I only had a half-sister (different mum), the whole thing still made sense from my point of view.

I didn't realize that I had anything between my legs that was used for more than peeing. I thought of my nether-regions basically how most people think of their elbows: they are there, they don't do a lot, so don't think about it. I knew that boys had things different between their legs, but I just put this as a diversity issue, much like if all boys just happened to have giant moles on their faces. I didn't think they actually did anything.

I knew the word sex was a bad word, and I thought it was a synonym for rape, but I didn't actually know what rape was, clearly. I seem to remember thinking it was something about a man sticking something up a woman's butt.

I believed this until I was twelve. My mum never corrected me because I was so utterly sure that my self-formulated ideas were the truth that I never asked where babies came from.

One day, I got bored and started reading my baby book. In it was a question and answer article from parents to this parenting expert person, and one of the questions was about what to do if your child asks where babies came from. It had different answers for different ages; I read all of them. The last was fairly graphic, and I thought it was a joke. I went to my mum, horrified.

"Mommy, is this really true?" I asked.

"Er...um.....um.....yes?" Was her response.

I felt completely disgusted and betrayed by both my mother and God. I still refused to believe it for a few days.

Also, when I first got my period I didn't really know what it was and the second month I had it, I was shocked again because I was convinced that I had dreamed the first time and women didn't really bleed out of their vaginas.

And this is why you do not homeschool anti-social children.
(Mreek, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 4:20, 3 replies)

When I was wee
My mum got me the book. This was a time when despite my age I had a large vocabulary and was very posh. It faded with age... I wanted to know the ins and out of it all and my mother laughingly told me of what I don't remember.

My version is her taking me to a bookshop and showing me the book I was to be given. Her version is me picking one of the books and loudly declaring, "oh yes, this is exactly what I wanted!" and that I was sorry the drawings were not real photographs, which would have been hard to do as there were cross sections.

So the only one I can really think of was that I was stunned when I found out it had to be guided in. Couldn't it just be poked in the right direction and given a shove??

I was also never told what the clitoris was and after having a dream where an old underwater doctor came and scooped it out, spent a small part of my childhood in silent fear and mild confusion, between wanting to be a stripper as I "got to have baths and meet lots of men". I liked my baths and was nothing if not logical.
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 2:47, 2 replies)

navels
A late friend of mine once confessed, that when he was small, he had been misled into thinking that the way one impregnated a girl, was to touch her belly button.

From this, follows 17 years (and counting) of a certain group of men, most of whom are now over 30 and a few of whom are now fathers, so should know better, attempting to palpate the navel of any lady with whom we might be in conversation, and, upon success, saying "Ha! I've gotten you pregnant now"

Importantly, none of these men have admitted to tempting fate by playing this game with any lady into whose quim he has inserted his member. However, three of us have confessed a feeling of dread, having inadvertently made digital-navel contact during otherwise protected coitus, that tiny feet may follow.
(Rastus P Watermelon, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 2:32, Reply)

Losing it
I lost my cherry in the back of a car. It wasn't a wonderful experience. Lots of fumbling and pushing and shoving. Of course, I was pretending to be a man of the world, as you do. However, all the feelings were very strange and new to me.

She felt very tight and penetration was difficult. I could really feel myself pushing against her hymen. I could definitely tell it was her first time. Once I shot my load I said to her, playing the sexual authority, 'If I had known you were a virgin I would have taken more time and gone more slowly'. She replied 'If I knew you had more time I would have taken my pantyhose off'.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 1:30, Reply)

Wups
I thought to make a baby a man put his willy inside a lady and it triggered some kind of natural switch which then starts the process of growing a baby.

I thought I accidentally triggered the switch myself and was conviced I was pregnant.
(sparkly_penguin, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 0:55, Reply)

Not so much a talk, as a book
When I entered the heady world of becoming a fully fledged woman (with much tears and hysterics if I recall correctly - periods meant 'being a woman' ergo in my mind, my childhood was finished. I still had my cindy dream house to sort out that afternoon!), my mother decided it was time for me to learn the birds and the bees. She decided the best way to do this was to go to the local book shop and buy a small selection.

Now bearing in mind I was about 11 years old at the time, one of the books purchased was 'Sex! How? Why? What? A Teenagers Guide'. Fair enough, thought I. I developed pretty early (in bras in year 5 which was quite devestating!) and so a book aimed for teenagers prob made sense.

Until I got a few chapters in, past puberty, to sex. Chapters dedicated to positions, blow jobs, hand jobs, the whole kit and kaboodle!

As such, I didn't really have many misconceptions, but I was certainly one mentally scarred little girl! The moral of the story - if you're going to use books to teach things to your kids, for gods sake read them first!

My psychiatric team love me :-)
(Mogg Questioned her own sanity on, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 0:47, Reply)

Sometimes a misconception is better for your sanity...
I was told by a female friend of mine (when I was a tender young 8 year old) all about the graphic details of the 'special time', probably as up until that point nothing on earth grossed me out.

I still to this day wish she'd invented some fantasy story that would've shielded me from the horrors of the crimson tide.
(Mr Bryn, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 0:46, Reply)

Nothing to do with sex, but
I thought the people who did Teletext/Ceefax/Oracle put in the extra spaces between words to get words to butt up against both left and right edges themselves. It never thought as a child (in the 80s) that a computer could justify text itself!
(crand _.-~stupid ascii thing~-._, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 0:41, Reply)