Holiday preparations
It all started out so innocuously, too.

A good few years back, myself and chap-at-the-time were one of the few people in our social group who had a place of their own, instead of living with the parents still. As a result, our house used to be the place to go to play games, watch footy or just hang out in general.

It was summer, and about five or so of the lads were off on a trip to the partyland of Ibiza. And very excited about it they were too. A few of them had popped over the day or so before they were due to leave, in order to catch up on what they planned to do (this included a list of chatup lines, with points awarded for the success of each, but that's another story).

Drinks are being drunk, bollocks is being talked... The usual. After a while, one of the fellas, let's call him John for the sake of argument, asks if he can use the bathroom. Not an unreasonable request, so we agree and off he goes.

After a good 15 minutes, it occurs to us that he must be having the mother of all pees, since he hasn't come down yet. Hmm, strange. After another 5, we're about to go launch a search party, when we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. About bloody time, I think, and turn round as he walks through the lounge door to berate him for his tardiness.

How I wish I hadn't done that.

He's standing there, stark bollock naked. And shaven. completely so, from head to toe, aside from that on his head. I have never seen a group of people shocked into silence quite like that before. Unperturbed he grins and says "What do you think then? Birds love a shaved man, seriously fucking LOVE it." And proceeds to give us a twirl. "Be great for pulling in Ibiza, won't it?"

It wouldn't have been quite so bad, if I hadn't gone up there myself at the end of the night to discover the bastard had used my LadyShave.
(Kitimariana, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:31, Reply)

Also
My mother in law who's a Doctor saw me naked in India. There were only 2 rooms in the house and she burst in.

I was ranting on about it later, saying she'd done it on purpose and my wife said "oh get over it, Browser. She's a paediatrician, its not like she's never seen a tiny bald cock before".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:20, 1 reply)

Hot Asian 4U
I was filming a very low budget advert for a clothes company in London and the client had put us up in a suitably low budget hotel for a couple of nights. Me and the crew all sharing one uncomfortably small room.

We dumped our bags off in our room and complained about how small it was before leaving for the days shoot. The staff didn't seem to care until the producer said we were shooting a film to raise money for dying children...(what!)

They seemed to change their tune for a moment.

After a 12 hour days filming we returned deep into the night after a quick beer. The rest of the crew stayed in reception to see if we could change rooms, whilst I went straight to the room to have a piss.

As i turned the key in the lock and opened the door, even in the dark i saw my bag wasn't where i left it. I turned the light on to look further....revealing the sight of a middle aged chinese man sat upright in bed having one of the most furious wanks i've ever seen. What made it worse was he didn't even stop when we made eye contact for a couple of seconds.

I backed out of the room. Locked the door and we never said a word.

Back in reception. "Good news, they've switched us to a new room"

"I know i found out"

"How?"

"I've just found Mr. Miyagi knockin one out on your bed"
( MrGomez and David Bellamy's big pubey beard, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:16, 2 replies)

Here we go again
More love and kisses from Port Glasgow!!

The guys i spent my teenage years with had an array of 'girls' that would hang around and offer their services to one, some or all of us. The 'line-up' as it where, changed as the months rolled by.

Being 14/15 i wasn't that fussed about vintage or good looks, only availability and access to tits or cunt. Either or, i wasn't fussy. Well, some of us were more fussy than others.

A memorable slapper was 'Big Trisha'. Trisha was a year older than us, had a head full of red hair and was a well known gobbler. Result.

What we quickly found out, was that she was a consumate cock teaser. An average night would consist of about 4 of us jumping on and around her, feeling her tits and trying to finger her 'fire fanny'. This would result in many a laugh and in retrospect was actually quite harmless. She certainly seemed to enjoy it.

Bizarrely, her fat friend, Ali, whom i was actually very scared of, as she was built like a bull, would sit around, unmolested, and watch proceeedings. Fair do's.

After weeks, if not months of this teasing, with only the one blowjob to speak of, Tricia and Ali got drunk, it was a Sunday night and a few pals had gone home to bathe and ready themselves for school the next day. Some of us stayed.

Ali started whispering to us that she was gonna lure Tricia, 'up the field', so we could take advantage of her. Fair enough, this was kinda par for the course. So, we head up the field and sure enough Ali and Tricia appear as anticipated. We give them a fright and go to molest Trica in our usual unsuccessful way, when Ali suddenly grabs at Tricia and rips her skirt clean off, knickers, top and bra as well. She was basically naked..... Oh aye, we have arrived.

Tricia drunkenly falls to the ground, where she demands that she gets fucked..Yip, its kicking off now alright, it's actually happening.

Her flame red minge is exposed in all its glory for a few scant seconds before there are a clamour of fingers racing to gain entry. Wahey, here we go thought I, as my pal, my very much developed pal unzips his pornstars cock and jams it in her mouth. With a cry/threat of,

"Dont bite it off now Trisha"

At exactly the same time, another pal starts to shag her as best he could, what with an arse and several giddy teenagers jockeying for space.

Positions are changed, holes filled and tits sucked. One of my pals we brothers was there, and he was only 11.

Now, i am being urged to get in amongst it....i am a virgin, if truth be told and haven't developed as quickly as my partners in crime. I hover hesitantly, thinking about it, when i see a light shining on her mashed titties.

There, directly in front of us, is a figure with a dog. No more than 3 feet away. I button up and we all run like fuck. I was convinced it was the cops. I was terrified, and ran home to my bed, still a virgin.

the next day at school, the story comes out that the figure was merely a guy walking his dog....Probably attracted by her shouting about 'fucking her cunt' or our shouting and general noisy as fuck-ness. i was convinced he must have shagged her as well, but apparantly he insisted she got dressed and got herself home.

All was well, no police investigation would ensue.

So well in fact that she promised the guys who weren't there a fuck later than night, in the piss stained cellar of a close nearby.

They took her up on this offer.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:12, 1 reply)

Footballs coming home - In the nudie
Unfortunately I seem to spend my life being that person, the one that's always in the wrong place at the wrong time, well, for surprise nudity that is. I seem to have a talent for seeing things I’d rather not see, whether its men pissing up the side of buildings outside night clubs, or women with their skirts tucked into their pants walking in front of me (I do chase them and tell them I promise) so yes, this probably won’t be the only post from me this week!

So yes nudies – Names have been changed to protect the innocent… well not so much innocent as just plain drunk and stupid.

This story takes place in the dodgy market town of March back in swingin’ 2004. After finishing up a night of too much booze coupled with bad Chinese food and a trip to the emergency room to have a glass ashtray removed from a friends head (that’s a whole other story) we finally made it back to my best friend Alison’s house for a cheeky drink and 3.00am South Park madness. Alison’s fiancée Tom had a bit of a rough time and was barley functioning on planet Earth when we tucked him into bed and closed the bedroom door allowing him time to sleep off the booze… or so we thought.

About 15 minutes after leaving Tom we heard an almighty bang (which I have still not worked out the whereabouts) coming from the bedroom. Alison got up and wandered out of the room muttering that Tom had probably fallen out of the bed (if only)… about 30 seconds later she came out of the room begging for help - Turns out Tom was still tucked up in bed but had vomited up his entire Chinese meal all over his face. Nice. As if this wasn’t enough of a horrible thing to deal with, Tom has also clearly felt constricted as he had taken off all his clothes and was completely starkers underneath the covers. It was at this point all the guys in the house ran away. Cheers.

Now I didn’t really want to see any part of Tom’s tackle so at first we tried to lift him out of the bed with the covers wrapped around him, the plan… erm… get him out of the bed and then into the bathroom. Problem was in his drunken state he thought we were trying to hurt him by pulling his arm so he kept thrashing around in the bed shouting that we were ‘evil doers’ and he was going to ‘stop all the games and eat pie’?? After 5 minutes of nonsense and whirling swirling bedcovers we decided this wasn’t the way forward, we needed him to get out of the bed of his own accord (not Honda Accord).

We left the bedroom and got one of the useless guys to shout out Tom’s name in the hope he would get up. We then ran back into the room and told Tom he had to get up as his friend Rob was hurt and needed his help, it was a lame plan but it only bloody worked, well… sort of. Tom fell out of the bed shouting ‘I’m coming Rob’. Managed to crawl half way across the bedroom floor before pulling a hoover on top of himself sobbing ‘It’s too far, its like the two towers’?

Eventually after much drama we managed to steer him into the bathroom and he crawled into the shower along with the duvet and cried while we turned on the water ‘why do you hate me, I’m so lovely, why do you hate me’. Once most of the vomit had left his face I abandoned Alison to deal with peeling off the wet vomit-soaked bedsheets.

I waited outside the door with the cowardly blokes and exclaimed ‘I can’t believe I just got through all that without being flashed by Tom’… cue Tom, bashing through the bathroom door, falling on top of me, bollock-naked and unnecessarily aroused. Cue me screaming, Tom singing ‘footballs coming home’ and Alison crying.

Ah Friday nights in March.
(Flim-Flam the Magnificent "You is talking loco and I like it!", Thu 28 May 2009, 17:12, 7 replies)

You know you're a student when...
you aren't shagging any fit blonde birds


arf!
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:06, 3 replies)

While travelling a couple of years ago
Oh, what a question. I was in India with my friend Ted (great guy, even if we did get at each other's throats this particular trip. he had a highly interesting sense of politeness - the type of guy that tells people to say "please" and "thank you" no matter how much of a pompous ass it makes him sound, but will quite happily call you a cumguzzling piglicker when he's angry), jaunting round Mumbai in a hired rickshaw. We'd found some work with a local restaurant, basically trying to drum up business for them. I say "restaurant" I mean "KFC".

And of course what it meant was a fucking chicken suit.

Me and Ted frequently got into arguments about who was going to wear the chicken suit, especially on hot days (and it REALLY gets hot in Mumbai). It smelt fucking horrific after only a couple of hours of wearing it, and we were going to be doing it for at least two weeks. It was a hardship I was willing to put up with though, as it allowed us to indulge in the finer points of Mumbai's nightlife. Honestly, if you've never been, it's superb. Gorgeous, modern-thinking girls with old-fashioned manners, jazz, hip-hop and rock clubs, and no vomiting drunken twats in sight. Not sure how it's held up after the events of last year (which really got to me, for obvious reasons), but it was amazing when I was there.

But right at this moment, I was not in a sophisticated, air-conditioned bar drinking whisky and chatting to exotic beauties.

I was in a chicken suit. And it was burning.

We'd been driving round for a while trying to find a good patch, and Ted had gotten us hopelessly lost. We were far from the bustling centre of the city and it looked like we were heading further and further into the suburbs and slums. We just thought "fuck it" and decided to explore for the day. We came across rubbish tips and workhouses and markets and god knows what else in the next hour or so, and then, as we slowly moved down a side street in the middle of the most crowded districts, we saw her.

A stunning, perfect example of the subcontinent's beauty. Long black hair, beautiful skin, the deepest, brownest, gorgeous eyes. Dressed in the most ornate sari, covered in jewellery, surrounded by admirers, it was like a scene from a Bollywood musical. Except without the music and dancing. So, er, I guess, a scene from India. She was sitting in the middle of what was apparently a town square, seemingly holding audience with the people around her, serene and beautiful, an oasis of calm in an endless desert of madness. I was in love.

Anyway, I was still in this fucking chicken suit. Did I neglect to mention I was naked underneath? I think I did. Well, I was. It gets hot in Mumbai. So I couldn't take it off. Not me, anyway. Clearly some of the previous contributors would have no qualms about ditching the fucking thing and riding round Mumbai naked in a rickshaw, but I have some more class than that. So I still had my chicken suit on. I couldn't get out and confront this vision of goddess-like beauty wearing a sodding chicken suit. Oh no. I stayed in the bloody rickshaw out of sight.

Ted, though, unencumbered by the avian ensemble, could. So the fucker did. He walked enraptured, in a trance, through the middle of the bowed crowd, towards her. Serenely, she carried on talking, until he got to a couple of metres from her, at which she looked up, startled, and flew to her feet. Ted also looked startled at this sudden display of activity, as did the rest of the crowd, who abandoned their heads-down positions. She demanded of him, (in English, obviously noting his western appearance) "Who are you, intruder?"

Ted upgraded from startled to panicked as he realised he had obviously stumbled into some kind of voodoo ceremony.

"Erm, erm, I'm Ted, hi, so sorry, I didn't mea-"

"You have disturbed our sacred rites."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything by it!"

I confess I was laughing my ass off at this point, although my laughing was tempered by the possibility of Ted being pulled apart by an angry mob. We argued, but I liked him, so of course I thought "Aw squawking hell, I'm going to have to go rescue the bugger."

But Ted was already being demonized by this priestess or whatever she was -

"I call on the Gods to curse you! Send us a messenger, O great deities!"

"No no, no need for that, I'm just going, alright, see, I'm leaving!"

At this point I leapt from the rickshaw, determined to rescue my buddy from a grisly end and earn his eternal gratitude, plus the right to laugh at him forever for his shit-yourself backtracking.

But the chicken suit had an unexpected effect.

I was cheered by the crowd as I emerged from between the buildings at a run. They crowed at me and whooped and bowed as their priestess, admittedly, looked rather shocked that her calls for a messenger from the Gods had apparently been answered. But she was a smart one. She quickly composed herself and shouted "A new deity! The gods have sent us a new deity!" And then she picked up on the form of the new deity, and she knew what she had to do.

She called for the very worst curse a chicken could ever enact on a human being.

"An hex! Peck Ted, new deity!"

....I am so very, very sorry.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:53, 7 replies)

Anyone else
Played 'Sly Nudger'?
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:49, 7 replies)

My Mum got Fingered!
This is a memory that has haunted me about 18 years!!

One hot summer night I was woken up by a groaning noise coming from my mums bedroom, being only 8 years Old i thought it maybe a monster hurting my mum, so I got out of bed and went in to her room to find that there was no monster, it was something even more scary! There was my mum laying on the bed legs spread wide open with not a thing on with my step dad knuckle deep, i have learnt that the expression is FINGER BANGING, to this day i do not remember what happend next. I feel sick even remembering it!
(rambosilk Liberty for wolves is death to the lambs., Thu 28 May 2009, 16:48, 8 replies)

'urrah pour les boobies!
In a French apartment complex in Paris where the rear balcony looks out on to a square surrounded by identical rear balconies...

Each apartment was tiny - maybe 30m2 and with the kitchen/dining space at the other end of the apartment, the bedroom area generally lay just before the rear balcony - most people had one of those bed up/couch down all-in-one set-ups or a fold away futon.

Whilst sipping red wine on the balcony, directly ahead of me, a delightful Gallic coquette is deciding which bra suits her outfit best.

Three bras she got through before registering my pleasure and her indignation.

rafter
baz
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:47, Reply)

this might be a pearoast
Friday night, at a pals house quaffing vodka, breakers and tennants super. We had exquisite taste.

I had arranged my girlfriend at the time up at the lonely industrial estate. The same girlfriend with the hairy nipples from a few qotw's ago. Anyways...

Me and my pal's big brother decided to set off towards the industrial estate together. I had tempted him with the faint glimmer that she would be with her drunk friends who may, or may not be up for some additional cock. However it was more to do with the fact he was a man mountain and i had to traverse a long, unlit 'rape path'.

We got to the end of the street whereupon we stumble a pack of the local street-rats. They are excited. They are all between 2 and 5 years younger than me, and i was 16 at the time.

The oldest, a likely boy called Bernie races over and tells us that 'Linda Lookback', on account of her nervous twitch, is going to get humped. Linda is in fact a mother of one and probably about 23-24, an older woman. He goes on to explain that they had been up the night before and she let them in to drink and Bernie and a few others had taked turns to fuck her ravaged clunge.

the only thing in their way tonight, was a locked door....just a door. They insisted they knew she wanted more 'attention' as she was on the floor begging for it.

"OK Bernie, show me"

So we head up the close and open the letterbox to reveal a vista, a genuine, WTF moment. There she is, sprawled out in the hall, naked, moaning about a cock or getting fucked.....it was like something from a David Lynch film. I was a bit shocked, and felt sorry for the woman, as i knew her life had been one long nightmare of casual abuse and degredation.

Bernie insisted he was going to kick the door in to gain access and give her what she needed. On any other day, i would have probably hung around to see what transpired. But i had business of my own, elsewhere. I told Bernie to let it lie, let her lie. That her 50 year old 'boyfriend' the enigmatic 'Man McGinn' could arrive back at any moment and stove their heads in.

I couldn't resist one more look, she was still there, was she drunk, was she dead, was she playing some sort of fucked up game?...i had no idea..All i knew was that i was gonna be late. I appealed to their better nature once again, saying it wasn't worth it and left the scene.

I never found out what happened, mainly because i really didn't want to be party to it, or anything that occurred.

I have more stories from my home town, some of which contain nudity, all of which contain masked horror, none of which contain hope!!
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:47, Reply)

Drunken nudity is a bit of an unfortunate theme for me
To be honest this is my girlfriend's story rather than mine, although I do play the starring role.

Last year we spent a couple of months in South East Asia. We were doing most of it on our own but since public transport is basically non-existent in Cambodia we decided to do that bit with a tour (Intrepid Travel - very good if a little pricy)

We'd been in Siam Reap for a couple of nights and were drinking in a bar called Angkor What (tacky name, awesome place!). I was drinking some lethal Mekong Whiskey based cocktail whose name escapes me, but it did come in a bucket so WIN! My girlfriend managed half of hers and then went back to the Cosmopolitans but I perservered through several more (it was about £4 for half a litre of booze for fecks sake).

We got back to the hotel at about 3 in the morning and were let in by the nightwatchman who slept on a camp bed in the lobby. We then went to bed and I woke up in the morning with a stonking hangover.






At least that was how I perceived events. According to my girlfriend she woke up about an hour later when I got up to go to the loo. I was taking quite a long time but she just assumed that I'd fallen asleep in the bathroom as happens on occasion after a skinful. Suddenly the main door to the room burst open. I wandered in and stumbled into the bathroom, had a piss, got into bed and fell asleep.

As with many b3tans it seems, I sleep in the nuddy.

What actually happened to me during that half hour spell was pieced together over the next couple of days.

Two of the Aussie guys in our group had got back to the hotel even later than us. They arrived just to see "some white bloke's" pale naked arse running up the stairs from the main lobby. I think I'd gone to look at the nightwatchman asleep on his camp bed - I was strangely obsessed with him, I don't know why.

While waiting for the bus a Norwegian girl told my girlfriend in horror how somebody had tried to break into her and her boyfriend's room in the middle of night. They'd forgotten to lock the door but had put the chain on. With perfect comic timing her boyfriend then added "And you know what it looked like he was naked. I went over to the door and he ran off down the corridor."

I was keeping very quiet and needless to say my girlfriend was absolutely mortified. However it appeared no-one could make a positive identification...

Until that is the lovely little Korean girl who'd barely said a word all trip asked my girlfriend if I'd slept ok. Apparently I'd given up trying to find the right room and just lain down in the corridor. She'd been woken up by my naked scrabbling on the floor outside her door and somehow persuaded me to get up and then helped me back to my room.


It was a slightly awkward 4 hour bus trip to Phnom Penh that afternoon.

However it was nothing compared to that time in France with the in-laws...
(Milo Minderbinder, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:44, 3 replies)

Oss oss…
Yay, this is where I win my money back.

I’m not an exhibitionist, I just end up naked or in some form of it, often… mostly in public… much to my friends distress.

Anyway, so there we were, May Day, 1999, BCUC (yeah, look it up, never heard of it either till I went there) Surf Society ‘tour’ to Padstow. 12 guys, lots of beer, debauchery beyond belief (“quick, look at Charlie, he’s sucking his own cock”… not what you want to hear at 7 in the morning when you’re super hungover)

If you know nothing of Padstow’s May Day, find out, get down there and enjoy it. Even for a fellow Cornishman I wasn’t prepared for the strange pagan fest that is May Day, but it’s brilliant.

Thousands upon thousands of locals and tourist alike don the streets, the majority all dressed in white, distinguished from each other by a red or blue neckerchief, depending of what side of the town you’re from.

So anyway, we were drinking, lots, from an early start. We were drunk, and hanging around the harbour, a big harbour, with some locals, and the day was hot. Very hot for the start of May anyway. Cut a long story short, some one dared someone to jump in the harbour, and they duley obliged, albeit in their pants.

“I can do better…” shouts the drunk Cornish Stanley, and whip my clothes off and prepare to jump in. oh yeah, did I mention the thousands and thousand of people? At 2 in the afternoon? Never mind… I jumped in… it was cold, still, impressed someone I’m sure!

Sorry if you were there and your pagan festival was ruined by the site of my skinny ass and penis jumping in the harbour… but it was a dare!

Length… it was the start of May!
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:44, 2 replies)

Naked Dead People!! This is not funny!
I use to be a Police officer about three years ago, left for personal reasons...

Three weeks into being on the beat I get a call to go to a house where they suspected someone had died, loads of newspapers in the door milk piled up on the door step, the usual thing.

Anyway, I along with another officer put the door in and found an old Japanese lady had died in her sleep and was absolutley butt naked. Before this time i was under the impression that rigamortis only affected the bones, I was wrong, she had died on her front and subsequently left her boobs looking like mushed up black play dough, not nice.

Two weeks later i get a similar call, again we break the door down and find a man face down in his kitchen.....with his trousers AND pants around his ankles, again with the rigamortis affected his penis which made it look like a bodge up boner, even more strange his was sorrounded by half frozen prawns...I have no idea.

Luckily I dealt with about six other dead people after this more..one where I had to hold someone up who had hung themselves and the way I knew he hadnt been there that long was because I could feel his warm BOLLOCKS resting on my shoulder and rubbing my neck.

Not nice!!
(rambosilk Liberty for wolves is death to the lambs., Thu 28 May 2009, 16:42, 3 replies)

Lightning flash
Not too long ago – oh, perhaps just two years I think – I was waiting for a taxi with a ladyfriend. We’d been out, had many a drink and were now waiting in the 50-50-50 office on George Street in Hull. In the queue ahead of us are the archetypal chavs, all trussed up in their small-checked shirts, roundneck Rockport sweaters, jeans and clumpy trainers/kickers, being all sweary and having a fun time – damn them.

A passer-by, clearly just an innocent chap who’d had a few himself, sees the chavs a-smoking.

“Scuse me,” says he, “can I borrow a ciggie?”

The lead chav seizes his opportunity. “If you wanna smoke something, smoke this!” and the speed with which he wapped his cock out was amazing. An exciting sight – not the pork sword, but the grace and fluidity of his movements. (That’s one of those sentences that you can’t predict, but are all the happier for hearing I think.) One swift action, and there it is dangling away. To his credit, it’s a cold night but that doesn’t seem to be affecting him. I stare at the ladyfriend awkwardly. The chav is still there, not five feet away, with his cock hanging out of his jeans and his fingers keeping the lob in tight control.

He was eating a burger while doing it to boot. True dexterity, élan and speed of thought – enough to make this correspondent jealous.

Obligatory length joke.
(Land of Green Ginger It's dreamy weather, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:39, Reply)

Nude in Barcelona
This QOTW is on good timing.

Was in Barcelona over the weekend. On Las Ramblas, an old guy was cycling towards us. This is normally nothing to write about, but on this occasion, the guy was completely nude. Must be quite normal over there as noone even batted an eyelid. Just us drunk British lads pointing and saying stuff like "eww, I would to be the one to clean the bike seat", or "I bet he prefers it without the seat on".
(scotsbloke, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:34, 1 reply)

So there I was......
Laying on the beach in Magaluf. I hate sunbathing. For me, it usually involves a mild feeling of embarrassment about my flaccid man boobs where onc my pecs resided, then a stark realisation five minutes later that I had gone tomato red despite factor 50 sunblock, and then several hours trying to remain in the shade. But, despite my ex's yearly promise that we would 'do stuff' on holiday this year rather than just the beach-apartment-club drudgery that we always did, it was week two of our holiday and we'd yet to make it past the beach.

So there we were, her laying silent and glistening, covered in sun oil, me sitting under a parasol, the only person on the entire beach wearing a t-shirt, reading a book about world war one and generally not fitting in as usual.

There's something about topless women on a beach that I find completely unsexy. I'm sure I can't be alone here, there's just a weirdness to it that renders even the most stonking pair of norks uninteresting when displayed publicly, but despite this I had, through boredom, began allowing my eye to wander. Shades are fantastic for a bit of beach ogling, and so long as you remember to hold your book the correct way up, no-one need know you're staring at them as they lay there, tits in their armpits, baking themselves to a crisp.

And then she arrived. They stopped at the sunbeds directly in front of ours and dropped their beach towels, this knuckle dragging neanderthal and his stunningly beautiful girlfriend. She had long, curly black hair and was simply breathtaking. I sat there motionless, my shades hiding my intensely gawping eyes, as she began stripping away her layers. It was like getting a free lapdance from someone who didn't look like a hollyoaks extra. She was amazing! As she slipped off her sarong I couldn't tear my gaze away, my book was shaking as she slipped off her flip-flops, and then her hands slid up her gorgeously toned midriff to the bottom of her crop top. Time seemed to pass in slow motion as she pulled it higher up her perfect body, my book almost dropped from my hands as she pulled it up to reveal her gorgeous charms...... and then it did drop from my hands as a nanosecond later, my eye was drawn from these magnificent norks to the hairiest ladypits I've ever clapped eyes on. It looked like she was smuggling two of Elton John's best wigs beneath har arms.

She looked at me briefly as I scrambled in the sand for my book, a little smile on her lips as she realised she'd had an audience. It was one of those moments where you catch yourself thinking something that reveals your innermost psyche. And what was I thinking? "I wish my missus looked like her"? "I think she caught me staring"? "I want to bone her senseless"?

No.

"She must be French."

Turns out I'm a bit racist.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:32, 5 replies)

Years ago, visiting the 'Toblerones' student accommodation on Manchester's Oxford Road,
another silly bint and I decided to see where the kitchen's internal fire door led to.

We gave it a shove and fell into the next flat's shower, joining a young male student. Oops!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:32, 3 replies)

there is an old man in our town who rides on of those weird recumbent bicycles
the donwside of this is he does it in those horriffic 1980's style running shorts- the VERY short ones with slits up the side.
he wears these whatever the weather.
this has the unfortunate complication that his baggy old man scrotum hangs out of the side like a turkey's neck with a couple of grapes in it.
on the up side, it is a good gauge as to the temperature outside by how low it dangles. like a human thermometer that man.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:29, Reply)

...
It's become a sort of tradition with one of my mates, that when we're round each others places getting drunk just the two of us, we'll play strip snap, as A] it's the only card game we know and B] we're just a pair of pervs. I always win because the drunkeness slows his reflexes, although we both end up pretty naked anyway.
Good times.

My housemate was drunk the other week while I was messing about and filming stuff on her camera, also drunk. Which is why we now have a lovely video of her dancing about and flashing her arse. Not quite full nudity, but still funny and unexpected.
(Little Miss Vivica, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:18, 4 replies)

Actually, I am probably one of the potential subjects of this week's QOTW, if it were in Germany
A couple of years ago I was visiting a local lake resort with a friend, where they have a section of the lakeside beach reserved for nudists. After stripping off and lying in the sun for a while, we decided to go for a walk around in a lovely wooded area nearby (ants are bloody bitey when you're naked). Coming out of the woods, was a path, so we continued to walk, assuming that this was still part of the nudist area.

It wasn't.

It took 3 fully dressed couples on bicycles accompanied by 2 children and a dog coming in the opposite direction with a look of "don't look Maude" on their faces for the penny to drop.

I did get a "good afternoon" from one of them though, which was nice.
( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:17, Reply)

I'm a poet but I don't realise it. Wait, that's wrong...
Another week opens, a new question's started
A fresh chance to answer with last week's departed
But I'm racking and racking my memory banks
And can't recall times of interrupted wanks

Of accidental flashes, surprise parties gone wrong;
Of times when strangers mistakenly saw my schlong;
Of walking in on housemates shagging on the bog,
Or interrupting fun with their cunnilingual dog

Of that time I glimpsed my neighbour's beef curtains
Or how I know why my boss' arse is hurting.
Of walking in on family members covered in perspiration
Or times when my pork sword was revealed to the nation.

So I'm looking forward to reading the tales
Of changing room mishaps in the January sales
Or cocks revealed seemingly riddled with gout
Or maybe "that time that my nipples popped out"

And so to appease our officelol addiction
Stories are told of truth and of fiction
Of too-baggy pants and ill-fitting bras
In public parks or in dark, seedy bars

Yet among these tales -
Spectacular or shitty,
TheMagicDwarf regales
An unexpected new ditty

*proffers spanging pan*

Sorry
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:12, 1 reply)

Walking home from the pub... (as I'm sure a lot of these stories will begin the same way)
... with two friends Amanda and Liam.

Nearly home and we're wandering (slightly tipsy) down the road at about 3am.

Most of the houses are dark, and so when we walk past one with the light on we all instinctively glance at the window.

The sight that greeted our poor delicate eyes was a guy sitting on the sofa, minus his trousers. Cock in hand. Fwapping away furiously.

To make matters worse, his mate was apparently passed out in the arm chair (or pretending to be asleep)

Liam yelled out, "At least draw the fucking curtains!" and all three of us immediately dissolve into hysterical laughter and fits of giggles. I managed to make it about 10 yards with the 'eyes front, I'm British' frame of mind before I looked round to find that Amanda had made it about three feet before collapsing on the ground in hysterics. Liam had made it slightly further, but was propping himself up on a parked car.

There is no way the guy couldn't have noticed us all laughing uncontrollably... but we didn't have the guts to look through the window again.

Either we put him off his stroke, or his mate woke up. Either way, we were all in physical pain from laughing.

You had to be there I suppose...
( Beastie is doing science with his arse, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:09, Reply)

Well, I was moisturising in the nude, as you do, post shower
And who would be looking up into my room with a look of 'can it be real?' than my new neighbour. He's on the telly a lot.

Still, he offered me a hot dog last week.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:08, 2 replies)

Dunno if this counts... Its close if not
There I was minding my own business having a shower, as you do... When just as I was about to start washing my gentlemans parts, my mum bursts in

'Hey look, look how much weight i've lost!'

Shes semi-naked, holding the waist of her jeans out to show how much space she has in them now...


At which point I reach for the mind bleach...
(Is this a good idea? ... Yes this is definitely a good idea, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:01, 2 replies)

*shudder*
Early on in my relationship with my girlfriend (now wife), I was visiting her down in Cardiff, where she was at Uni.

Her flat-mate had an old friend staying with her - a very large, very Australian lady I'll call "Daphne"
(You already know where most of this is going, don't you?)

Daphne was good fun - swigging red wine at about the same pace I could swig lager. Uncharacteristically for her race (pfffrt) she became very loud, very shocking and outrageously flirty the drunker she became.

We were all chatting in the kitchen and she was doing some harmless flirting with me in front of my lass - simply, I suspect, because she saw it was making me uncomfortable (my girlfriend also found my discomfort funny). Haha. Great, laugh it up girls.

As the glasses of wine continued to slosh down her big flapping mouth, barely touching her throat and into her even more voluminous stomach, this flirting got more intense and crude:
"Awww, y'know me... I wouldn't chuck ANY man out of bed... " *eye contact with me* "...unless it was so I could FUCK HIM ON THE FLOOR".
etc. That sort of thing.

Anyhooo, eventually it was time for me and the missus to go out for a meal *phew*

We returned later, both a bit sloshed and did the things you do and ended a nice evening drooling contentedly on each other's shoulders.

Then, at about 3am I got the old "too many beers" pressure on the bladder - the really annoying piss that makes you have to get out of a warm bed in a cold house. Grrr.

3 am... I could risk it. I didn't want to wake-up my girlfriend by faffing about trying to find where those boxer shorts got flung, so I went for it - a quick listen around the door then a brief rudie-nudie scamper down the corridor towards the toilet. Then, at the point of no return *click* the toilet door started to open.

I was caught in no-man's land.
Absolutely no chance of making it back.
I gambled, I lost.

In the time it took for me to turn back, forwards, back, then forwards again in a pantomime stylee, the door was open and there she was... Daphne, framed in the doorway wearing only one thing more than me - a big smile.

There wasn't even any point covering-up, so, in mock horror I covered my nipples with my fingers (while she took a very slow, deliberate look at 'the goods') while I muttered something about needing the loo.

Being the understanding type she was, she said "Oh, of course mate... in you go" then, rather than stepping out into the corridor, she simply turned sideways to 'make room' for me to get past her.

When I say 'room', I mean approx. 3 inches of clear space between her big naked unashamed body and the door frame.

Urgh. I'm squirming right now remembering this, but not as much squirming as was necessary to actually get past her.
I risked an arm - yip, that got past without contact, but then came the pure flesh-on-flesh contortions necessary to slide past.
All the time, she was making eye contact and grinning (with the odd sarcastic "ooh" or moan).

God, it seemed to take ages (I think I came twice, haha) but eventually I made it in and shut the door behind me, panting like I'd survived a sniper attack or something, only to hear the faint sound of an Australian-style guffaw outside.

I dreaded the next day, but good old Daphne actually spared me when we all met-up in the kitchen for breakfast. She just smiled sweetly at me then popped a whole sausage in her mouth while I turned bright purple and suffered from Vietnam-veteran-style flashbacks.

Why? Why did I just tell you all that?
( Zak McFlimby Twibbling @McFlimby, Thu 28 May 2009, 15:55, 7 replies)

Repost, sorry
Not sure if this counts.

My missus read in one of her "wimmin's" mags about how some rough old slapper gets regular deep-dick action by advertising where she'll be on business and when she'll be available for a piping. I pointed out this would only work for a woman. The wife disagrees.

And so the experiment started. We placed adverts on Gumtree - one "woman seeks man"; one "man seeks woman" and one "couple seeks other", just for shits and giggles - each one stating "picture garuntees response". We then waited for the replies to roll in.

Though we didn't have to wait long. The "woman seeks man" advert got four responses within 20 minutes, which I thought was slightly strange considering we posted the advert a little before midnight on December 30th. By the morning, the inbox of the fake email address we used was stuffed with cocks, hundreds of the things. Plus some of the pictures of said love-lengths showed them being used in slightly unusual ways.

After a few minutes of checking out the weird replies, I felt more than a little sick. Not least by my wife looking at one picture and uttering the phrase "you wouldn't shag him, he's got crap wallpaper".

I was right, though. The "man seeking woman" only got "are you sure you're after a woman?" type replies. And more pictures of cocks.
(ScousersPet, Thu 28 May 2009, 15:44, Reply)

heading home from a gig...
...at what was the carling academy (sticky floor shit beer) in Newcastle.

Walking past the city walls back the car and a couple are enjoying abit of 2245 delight. Gentleman he is, he is sitting on one of the ancient stones with his jeans undone and cock out she is naked from the waist down and sliding up and down.

I said 'evening...nice night for it' I think it may have put him off his stroke.
(twiceydrinker hmmm is it pint time?, Thu 28 May 2009, 15:42, Reply)

Last Week...
I wanted to have a scrumptious dessert.

Being mediocre in the kitchen, off I trotted to Youtube for some ideas.

And searched for marble cake.
Lo and behold, I didn't find any recipes, just hardcore pornography. Not very good hardcore pornography at that.

Think i'll stick with ice cream and jelly next time.
(KneelDiamond, Thu 28 May 2009, 15:41, Reply)

i used to work in a camera shop many moons ago
i had a HOT blonde manageress. she was about 4 years my senior, blonde, blue eyes, amazingly hot body.. really cool chick. some morning she'd open up, some morning i would so i had a key, alarm codes etc. i knew she used to use the gym nearby sometimes. one day i left something in the shop, so i came back in to grab it, the shutter was down but the alarm wasn't set. i opened the door to the stock room, and right in front of me was the most perfect, tanned ass and neatly trimmed ladygarden you ever did see. she was getting changed into her gym stuff. i was only about 19 at the time, i did the sorta 'oh shit, sorry, erm, i... ermmm... she turned round, revealing a GREAT perky rack and said 'it's ok, i don't mind, you weren't to know. what did you want? i was like errmmmmmm.... *don't say tits, don't say tits, * ermmmmm.. my earphones, they're on the box at the back? she said to go grab em, so i did, and then left. the next day was REALLY awkward. mainly because of the small space behind the desk and my persistent nagging boner. dammit. never did tap that ass. she was shagging the big boss anyhow, she was probably loving making me squirm.
saw her a few months ago. dayum. i think i caught her at peak time, she has NOT aged well.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Thu 28 May 2009, 15:41, 1 reply)