We played buckaroo
In systems and control (That's electronics and woodwork to most people).

Except we played it with a bent piece of metal hooked onto a florescent light, the object wasn't to break the light but to not get caught.

It started fairly small, with a metal bin but quickly got onto bigger objects. I think we managed a bicycle without getting caught.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 16:26, Reply)

Dunno if this is rebellion or stupidity
There was a boy at our school named K.C. who was bright, but a bit off. One day in English class in high school, he interrupted a lesson with the question, "If I jump out this window, will I get hurt?" (We were on the floor above the ground floor.) The teacher, who was tired of his questions all semester, looked at him and said, "Why don't you do it and find out?"

He landed just outside the principal's office. The teacher was suspended for a couple of weeks.
(countertroll, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 13:12, Reply)

The Second Coming
I always looked older than my age, and at 18 I had long hair and a beard. The summer I turned 18, a couple of friends and I had an evil plan, since we all agreed that religion was piffle.

We went to the local beach on Long Island and found a sandbar that was quite far away from the main bathing area. One afternoon, when the tide had risen a bit above the sandbar, I dressed up in just enough robes to look Christ-like and took a stroll along the sandbar for a few minutes.

The Jesus sightings made the papers and the local sermons that week.
(countertroll, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 13:07, Reply)

One thing I like to do
Is to go into MacDonalds, get halfway through a cheese burger, sneakily put my hand down my pants and pull a pube out (if you do it fast enough it doesn't hurt too much) and put it in the burger, then I go back to the counter with a disgusted look on my face and demand a refund and/or another burger, usually you get both. It's proper fun!
(Multi-Coloured Pop Shop "twat with a ukulele", Sat 21 Jul 2007, 12:24, Reply)

when i got divorced....
...after i recovered from the week binge session, my beard had grown. My ex missus didnt like beards, but i do, so i kept it as part of my rebellion. I have had it ever since. I also went out and got another 6 holes put in my ears. Something else the ex didnt want me to do.

There, that was rebellion that was....

...i dont have the earrings now though....cant be arsed with em...
(i AM that masked man Book him Tonto, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 11:45, Reply)

phone number in phone box
For about a week, me and a couple of mates at the school bus stop called the same number at about 7:30 from the call box (way before mobile phones this was) We was waking some poor sod up and asking if Jim was available.

we got the reply : no jim here, you must have the wrong number.
His replys to our calls were getting more and more curt thoughout the week, snarling he would kill us if he found out who we are. (also before the days of 1471 too). By friday we relented and called him. we called him by his real name too. He sounded very suprised that we knew who he was and said that a mate of his must have put us up to it. No we said, but it might have been your mate who wrote your name and number in this phone box!

Ah, happy times. we even didnt mind loosing 10p each for a while to make the calls.

Length? About a week.
(i AM that masked man Book him Tonto, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 11:40, Reply)

6th Form...
...were the best years of my life!

Highlights include:

1. Agreeing to have a homemade blowdart made from a lolly stick, a long needle and a 5p for ballast shot into my chest through my uniform. I wimped out at the last minute and tried to shield myself. The blood running from my arm was quite worrying after that!

2. Waiting until it was quiet in the common room and then arranging all the chairs in a long line and playing "Gauntlet" on them i.e. One person has to get from one end to the other without being thrown over the top of the chairs by 3/4 others!

3. Waiting for a DT teacher to leave the room, and then Araldite-ing her desk draw shut. As far as I know, it was never reopened!

4. Using a "Jewellery Making" project as an excuse for melting metal with a blowtorch and making crudely whittled MDF shapes moulds. I did this for 4 hours a week for a whole year and a half!

5. Putting money togeher to go on "McDonald's" runs, then having competitions to see who could eat 5 Double Cheeseburgers the fastest.

6. Tampering with a quiz buzzer system so that even if the other team pressed the button first, our bell would win. Two years in a row we won that!

7. Putting all of the common room chairs in a pile over a hungover sleeping person and using many rolls of thick parcel tape to ensure it stayed solid. "Chair Mountain" as it was christened was even pushing up the artificial roof tiles, it was that big!
(r2b2 has ear cataracts?!?, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 11:24, Reply)

altophilia
Some people are scared of heights... I'm the opposite: I love to get as far off this planet as I can. I'm not talking about the "mile high club" or anything fetishistic: in a plane, I get a little buzz from knowing that there are seven miles of bugger-all beneath me. As an adult (?), I can afford to fly across the Atlantic to Toronto, climb the CN Tower, and stand on the glass floor, looking straight down. Show me a skyscraper, and I want to see the view from the top.

As a kid... well, you can imagine what happened when grain silos went up, in the small town I lived in (in Natal, South Africa). Two rows of six concrete monstrosities, each about two hundred feet high, with a conical roof.

We soon found that there were no security guards at weekends, and this was before CCTV became common. My stepbrother was chicken, but I was straight up the ladder on the outside of one of the silos. At the top, each silo was fed by a covered conveyor belt, but there was enough space for me to slide down the outside to the edge, and look down.

Running on the conveyor belts, playing in the service lifts, pulling levers and getting showered with dirty maize... good times. We never got caught, not even close. The ultimate stupidity was something I only did twice: jump across the six foot gap between two silos. If any adult had seen me, I would have been grounded for life. Had I slipped, I would have been "grounded" for sure. Eek!

Length? Pshaw. Tell me how far up it goes.
( bnt what, me worry?, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 11:10, Reply)

I rebelled against my parents
by going out with a blue girl.

They were so outraged they threatened to move away from Sesame Street altogether.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 8:53, Reply)

Pissing on toothbrushes
Just that really, a friend used to go up to the bathoom and piss on her folks' tooth brushes after they iritated her.

No one found out.
(woodchopper likes chopping wood, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 8:21, Reply)

you know how you can dye your hair with food coloring?

Well you can't.

But you can dye your skull.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 7:35, Reply)

Making myself look like a badger
by putting a white streak in my hair with talcum powder before a party. Sadly, my hair seems to be managing this without my help these days.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 6:13, Reply)

havin fun with the school officials
me and my buds werent the most appreciative students at our mid high.
which includes...

one of my friends walking over to a corner, looking at the janitor in the eyes for a moment and then spitting a particularly nasty loogey into the corner.

another one of my friends sprinting and drop kicking his locker(it was crap) it make it open.

another pretending to shoot himself in the head. who then dropped to the floor. we only got in trouble because i started dragging him down the hallway under the phrase "im buffing the floors, whats the big deal!?"

spamming a urinal, not trying to que it up but using real spam

sticking half a grilled cheese sandwich to the underside of a table(and it staying for 3 weeks, hard as rock)

taking all the leftovers at the table and mixing them with chocolate milk then shaking that out in the urinal(those things are fun to stain)

using a ninja claw to get to the top of the roof

creating my own mold culture out of coffee for 6 out the 9 months we were in school, my friend got a solid 30 bucks for eating a bite

that and taking a baseball bat to the side of brick building... (stung after the 4th hit or so)

i believe we also had a locker that we piled full of leftovers from lunch that rotted all year long and didnt clean it out, cus you know, cleaning it out wouldnt be cool now would it.

i dunno what else...
(fisherOfApples123 -=destroyer of toilets=-, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 5:06, Reply)

sekseh vidy-o tiem
i broke up with a short-time girl after i thought i had it made.. we made movies, took loads of photos and generally became pornographers.. until she called me at half 10 one saturday morning "it's not you, it's" "yeah what the hell ever, f*ck off" within about an hour of STUPID drinking i was a shadow of my former self, proclaiming "WHO WANNST TO SSEE THEESH VIDDEOSH?!?" my housemate told me she was moving out due to my outlandish approach to the matter (as a threat.. i let her go).. a reasonable couple of hours showing for the boys and girls that were there followed (i must stress i was 22 at the time and she was 18).. embarassed?
muchly

it's not massive at the best of times

looking back i am SUCH a tw*t

edit: just read that through.. she can die, and I RAWK!
(..::poppy-end::.. about 10p or so i 'eard, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 4:21, Reply)

Eye Cancer.
As a young kid I would casually put dental floss on two posts on the sides of a speedbump outside my house.

Whenever a skateboarder would come by they'd get close-lined and fall down the hill, that the speedbump was suppose to protect you from.

Also whenever a car would come by i would always see them switch on their windshield wipers, and then continue to get angsty as its not a simple spiderweb or whatever they expected it to be. It was hilarious, and then soon after i got my dad involved and we would hide in the bushes and laugh when people got tangeled.

Soon after that i bought a laser pointer for the first time, my neighbor who continuously leaves her windows open was a perfect target, and my dad thought it was hilarious to shine it into her eyes when he was trying to watch TV. The Laser pointer reached down the street and into living rooms around my neighborhood people were getting hit with a light, not knowing where the fuck it would be coming from.


Then my nextdoor neighboor, and eventually my whole block, died from...

(Punchline is in Bold Above)
(GiF .sig, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 1:00, Reply)

peanut butter smelly time!!!
the most rebellious things i remeber doing are: when i brought a tub of peanut butter to school i spread it on the toilet seats, about 42 squares of toilet paper, the inside of the cubicals and on the mirrors!!! the best thing about it was when i told someone about it and they said "you cant do that someone might have an alergic reaction" and i replied "o yeh they're really gonna lick it off the toilet seat arnt they!" the other was when the teacher (who hated my guts) went out the class i opened the top story window, ran down the stairs and laid underneath the window looking fairly dead, everyone in the class bless em were all shoutin out "hes jumped!" her face when she first saw me was like the scream but then when she clocked onto it she shouted out "i hope he goes to hell!"
(lollystickinpeehole, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 23:26, Reply)

Ouch
The various pellet gun stories on here have just brought back a rather painful memory.

After a typical teenage night of drinking vodka on the street, I went back to a male friend's house with another male friend. After rolling a particularly horrible spliff with a piece of A4 paper, pritt stick and no tobacco, I proceeded to pass out.

My wonderful, wonderful friends decided it would be appropriate to wake me up by SHOOTING ME IN THE VAGINA WITH A BB GUN.

I think I am one of the few girls who can honestly empathise with the pain men feel when they are kicked in the balls.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 22:26, Reply)

Matching ponchos
Picture the scene. 17/18 years old. If you are (un)lucky enough to be born in the early 70's then you'd be like me and my then boyfriend; we rebelled in 1989. We went to the Hacienda club and met Shaun Ryder; we had a beer with Bez.

To make sure all the people we went to 'school'(sixth form) with knew how cool we were we turned up to the CDT (Craft, Design and Technology) exam in matching ponchos (Clint Boon wore them)made from the traveling blanket from my grandpa's car.

Get us. My Mum made them on her Singer sewing machine. I was hanging --- GET IN.
( no longer a user, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 21:59, Reply)

Doing Lines
Whilst a moody teenager, I was sat in McDonalds with my then-boyfriend and a load of mates. After we'd eaten, my chap and his best mate emptied some white powder onto the table and started chopping at it with their bank cards. Now, we were only 15 and I was a whiter-than-white good two shoes. There were a lot of mothers with young children sat around watching this horror unfold in a seemingly innocent family 'restaurant'. They arranged the powder into lines and, much to the onlookers horror, snorted it.

A few walked out in disgust, before they opened their hands to reveal sherbert straws. The tw@ts had only snorted sherbert. Which they regretted when they started foaming at the nose in an almost rabies-like manner.
( El Lazarus is calm now, Ish,, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 21:47, Reply)

My best mate at school
got an evening job as a cleaner at school. Part of the reason was he presented a mature and sensible front to the world, and sure enough he did a fine job.

Once every few weeks he'd crap in a teachers desk mind.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Fri 20 Jul 2007, 21:39, Reply)

Rolling Sly Stoned......
During my teenage years i was a not very rebelious except with my music teacher, i never practised any of the instruments that i played, and half the time i didn't turn up to lessons, (luckily for me she hated me and liked it when i didn't turn up so she'd never report me playing truant). The final straw came when i turned up to a music festival to compete with other kids (most of which were considered child prodigies) completely stoned and out of my mind, to piss her off even more i won!!! and i made sure that all the other kids knew as well as my music teacher.

God i miss those days!!! :D
(Squid83, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 21:29, Reply)

act of non-teenage rebellion
My teenage rebellion didn't start till I was in my late 20s and got back in touch with my mom again who I hadn't had contact with for 13 years. And it is still going strong now.

She has the thing about ladies not being properly dressed unless their underwear matches. I purposefully and rebellious make sure that I never match every day. I must admit it gets embarrassing if we're out shopping together and she tries to force me to buy matching sets of anything as we end up "having words" with me stating that I'm not paying over the odds for a bit of material that's not going to cover my arse and I don't care if I don't get into heaven as it doesn't exist.

Unfortunately she gets her own back by telling the poor assistant (who will always come over and see what's going on)about the fact that she should be greatful that at least I'm considereing buying anything as I spent the first 8 years of my life trying to get out of wearing any clothes at all - and then going on to describe what I was like as only a mommy can...

I shall have the last laugh though. I have an arrangment with a friend who will make sure she is the last to see my dead body before I am burnt and will remove my knickers just incase my mom has got there and made me respectable
( PagDrag don't think we're in kansas anymore toto..., Fri 20 Jul 2007, 20:57, Reply)

the non-rebel
during my teens, was the polite quiet one who got on with the teachers & stayed at home in the evenings after doing a part-time job.

the nearest i got to rebellion was turning up on winter non-uniform days with odd hair colours; first was silver (that is an odd site - 15 & completely grey). deputy head stopped me in corridor & had to tell him i had clearance by my head of year, as it was spray on. next 3 yrs i went through gold, purple, then ginger(dye on very dark brown hair) - looked like a dark chestnut(oh, the irony - i've got natural ginger highlights in my beard, and starting to see them on my head).

also pulled the chair out from underneath my head of year in english on my 16th(was getting wound up that day, and i don't like fuss on my birthday) - only got shouted at to get out of class, no detention/suspension/expulsion. [thanks mrs M. Sheppard].

i still have the odd mad moment (purple hair, followed by blue hair in first year of uni). caused parents to cover childrens eyes when i walked around edinburgh; the kids would 'goldfish'. best bit was ending up in hospital wit the blue faded to grey-green as it was temporary.

i have been tempted to perform illicit chemistry, especially when i found out we had a kilo of salt petre in the lab, plus lead shot, powdered charcoal & sulphur when clearing the lab out for a refit. i possess a chemistry degree & destructive knowledge, and thus managed to scare the technician.

i make no apologies for the dimensions, it comes naturally with XL sized feet.
(trainee mad doctor is currently trying to build a secret laboratory, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 20:47, Reply)

Things I did to shock: I pretended to be gay...
It all happened about a million years ago, when I was forced to work in grandad's greenhouses and I wasn't too happy about my slave labour status:

When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

Twenty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

He did not chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. Ike Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

"Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

"I'll bet you do."

". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

"I though we were talking about. . ."

"You like jumping old men's peckers?"

I shook my head.

"I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

That summer of 1971 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

"Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

"People do that?"

He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

"I never. . ."

"Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

"No way."

"Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

"Why would I do that?"

"Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

"I'm no queer."

"Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

I swallowed, hard.

Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

***

We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

"Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

I looked away.

"You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

I shook my head.

"Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

"Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

I tried not to look interested.

"Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

"What if somebody walks in?"

Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

"I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "It sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

"You like checking out this old man's cock?"

I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

"Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

I shook my head.

"Maybe I'll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set 'em free. Now let's see yours."

"Why?"

"Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

"I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

"Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

"Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

I shook my head.

"Cause I keep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

"Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

"Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

I laughed.

"You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

"Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

"I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

"I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

"Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

"Your head?"

"No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

"I don't think so."

"That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

"We shouldn't be talking like this."

"C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

"I reckon," I confessed.

"You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

"My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

"How'd that come about?"

He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

"What did your grandpa do?"

"He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

"Did you want to join him."

"I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

"I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

I nodded and looked away.

"Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

"We shouldn't."

"Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

"C'mon let's see it all."

I shook my head.

"You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." I ke grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

I shook my head.

The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

***

"Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

"Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

I shook my head in denial.

"Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

"Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

"Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

"And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

"I don't do. . ."

"Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

"A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

"I don't think so."

"What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

"It's not for showing off."

"That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

"It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

"There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

"Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

"Nineteen almost twenty."

You ever fucked a woman?"

"No."

"Ever fucked a man?"

"Of course not.

"Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

"Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

"You've done that?"

"I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

"I think that would hurt."

"First time, it usually does," agreed I ke. He took a bite from his sandwich.

I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

"We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

"Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

"C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

"That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

"We really shouldn't. . ."

"Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

"I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

"Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

"I don't know about that," I said.

Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

"Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

"I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

"You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

"I thought about it a lot."

"Ever see him with a hard-on."

"I told you about that!"

"Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

"I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

"Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

"Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

"If you say so."

"Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old I ke to lick some of it away?"

"You wouldn't."

Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

***

The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

"C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

"It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

"I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

"Are you ready," I asked.

"How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

"It's real tight."

"Tighter than your fist?"

"Might be."

"Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

"I reckon."

"I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

"What?"

While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

"C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

"A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.
(apologies_for_length, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 20:40, Reply)

I did some stupid things
When I was 13 i smoked my first cigarette and had my first drink of alcohol.

I was at a graduation party, my sisters boyfriend graduated. On that party I didn't really drink that much. I ate the berries in the punch that had been soaking in vodka for 24 hours before the party... And then I drank some other things like wine and beer, mixed and so on... And then I blacked out. Well - I don't remember anything after I munched those berries.

Then I waked up... Finding myself on a coach, having a tremendous headache. I didn't know where I was. The first thing I saw was a box with lots of beers - my first thought: "Cool! Beer! I think that I'll pick some and drink them with my friends later! Woo!"...

But little did I know. The second thing my eyes discovered were my pants - soaked in my own vomit. They were black pants, but both legs were soaked in disgusting vomit with the rests of berries and strange stuff.
I ate breakfast three times that day.

That hang-over lasted until 18:00 that day. (Well, that was when the stuff that I ate started to stay in my stomach...)

Length?
(ArchNemesis :(){ :|:& };:, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 20:37, Reply)

i drank surgical spirit
at uni me and a mate tried surgical spirit mixed with ribena. it tasted of surgical spirit, but looked like ribena. didin't try it again. didn't finish my pint of it either. can't remember any side effects, probably because we went to the SU bar to get rid of the nasty taste. took five hours of drinking before i could no longer taste surgical spirit. not a good result as we tried it because we couldn't really afford to go drinking in the SU bar for five hours. still don;t know if surgical spirit has alcohol in it. we thought it might because it's a spirit.

not really shoicking to other people as we didn't tell anyone,because everyone would have thought we were right knobs. we did shock ourselves though and stuck to alcoholic drinks in cans and bottles. (not bottles from co-op with surgical spirit written on them)
( nikdude, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 20:22, Reply)

Football
I wish I could claim credit for this, but unfortunately it was my friend Shaun.

While playing football in a PE lesson he managed to dribble the ball around our smug overly competitive (bearing in mind he was competing against children) PE teacher, Mr Bickley, and belt it into the back of the net.

To celebrate he then dropped his shorts and screamed "Kiss this Bickley!" While mooning at him.

Needless to say he was sent straight to the school office. He turned up after lunch time with a letter of apology that he had been instructed to write by the office. Only he hadn't really, he'd just gone for a smoke then cobbled a few lines together. Bickley sussed this straight away, so back to the office he went.

My school took quite a dim view of lying and indecent exposure so Shauns parents were called. When Shaun, mum, dad and the head teacher were in the office, the head says, "so shaun, would you like to tell us why we are here?"

So shaun just says "Coz I scored a goal
then mooned Mr Bickley" At which point his dad pisses himself laughing.

Good just coz the head was a self righteous cnut.
(Tarquin DLM wasting his life here, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 19:42, Reply)

Rebel
Yeah I rebelled by smoking. I was 18 at the time, but y'know I was well 'ard.

Could never really see th epoint of rebelling - if I piss my folks off they will make my life unpleasant, so why rock the boat ?
(kitescreech still here, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 19:30, Reply)

I told
a joke I learned from Sickipedia, relating to Pope Jean Paul II, one M. McCann and the difference between their respective sexual status to my mummy and my daddy and my baby siblingy.

My sister went a bit green, my dad sniggered and my mum did that face of 'that WAS NOT amusing and I AM NOT laughing, pfffft' that parents do.
(Shinigami, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 18:12, Reply)

Air Rifle
I once ran around the garden while my brother tried to 'pick me off' with an air rifle using thin twigs for ammunition.

We stopped the game when one of the twigs hit me in my stomach and embedded itself in my flesh.
(ed-z, Fri 20 Jul 2007, 17:30, Reply)