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This is a question Unexpected Nudity

There you are minding your own business, looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when suddenly... SURPRISE TODGER!

Tell us just how un-erotic unexpected encounters with nudey people can be.

(suggested by wanderingjoe)

(, Thu 28 May 2009, 13:32)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, ... 1

This question is now closed.

thanks but no thanks
Several years ago, when my girlfiend was visiting her mother, I went to a party with a very pretty female friend of mine (I'll call her Sarah, but it isn't her real name).
It was clear after a short time that she was being hassled by one of the guys there and wanted to leave, so I made our excuses and took her across the street to my (shared) flat to call a taxi (yes, this was before mobile phones and I am therefore ancient).

Before the afore-mentioned phone call, I made Sarah a coffee and took it into my room, where I'd left her sitting on the bed. She was still there, but now completely naked.
She explained that she didn't want a taxi and would prefer to stay with me. I gently explained in return that I loved my girlfriend and that hot as Sarah was, it wouldn't be right.

I suppose there are people who think I must have been mad to turn her down, but I value fidelity in a relationship and besides, she was my friend and I couldn't see her in that kind of way, not even sitting in my bedroom, on my bed, naked.

Anyway, Sarah burst into tears, got dressed and left. I never saw her again. Shortly afterwards, my girlfriend and I split up.

I've always wondered what might have happened if I'd made a different decision.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 11:08, 5 replies)
Me again.
This one probably screwed me up, more than a little bit. I was probably about 11, and I was supposed to meet up with my best chum. We had a meeting place that was almost exactly halfway between our houses. It was on top of a flight of stairs leading from an abandoned block of flats. Because, you know, when you're a kid, anything abandoned is cool. But, I digress. I was meeting up with my mate, and I got there before him. So, I climbed to the top of the stairs, and sat down next to the door. He didn't take long, maybe five minutes, but those five minutes were possibly the most disturbing five minutes of my life.

After I'd been sitting down for little more than a minute, I recall seeing this Muslim bloke walk next to the stairs. Nothing really suspicious, so I just minded my own business. Anyway, not too long after, I seen this guy shuffle into a corner of wall that was adjacent to the stairwell. I then heard a strange zipping sound. "Oh, Jesus, no..." I thought to myself. With a cough, and a grunt, the hideously familiar splashing sound was audible. He obviously hadn't seen me, so I had to lie down on the stairwell in case he turned around and saw me. It was absolutely horrible because:
1) If anyone saw me, they'd think I was a pervert.
2) If HE saw me, he'd think I was a pervert, and phone the police.
3) If my mate comes along, he's going to shout, and wave, not seeing the Muslim bloke because he's behind a wall.
4) There's a fucking guy unwittingly taking a piss in front of me!

After what seems like the most awkward eternity, the guy shakes up and down, and zips back up. Thank God. He then walks away, leaving me in shock. I sat there, simultaneously trying to bleach my mind of what just happened, and wondering if it DID just happen. About a minute later, my friend was visible walking towards me. We then went back to my house, and luckily, that's the end of that one. It still remains one of the worst days ever.

Length? I'm not sure. I looked away when I was hiding from him.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 8:58, Reply)
Keeping this one short
Was visiting the girlfriend. Her family is pretty relaxed about clothing, I've seen them all in various stages of undress (as they have me).

What I didn't expect though was to wake up bursting for a piss with a raging lob on, run to the toilet and burst in to find her 13 year old sister sitting on it doing her business while she touched herself.

It was one of those very long moments where we both looked at each other before I ran away to hide. She didn't seem to care at all though that a 6'2 englishman with a hardon you could hang a Honda off has just broken in on her playing sessions.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 7:07, 5 replies)
You have no idea
the night I've just had.

When I stop being so pissed off, I'll relay the incredibly relevant night I've just had.

Unexpected nudity is not always a good thing.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 4:46, Reply)
Adelaide Fringe
This experience was completely unexpected (as the QOTW demands).
Probably about 10 years ago during my uni days (of which much is but a blur), the Fringe was in town again. 'Yay' i here you say and, indeed, it was so. I had driven to the city (cause in those days drink driving wasn't an issue that bothered me), and was parked one street off the main pub-crawl stretch. One last quick cone before i get out of the car and join society think I. Just as I've inhaled a rather massive lungful I look up, only to be confronted by four young men going for a casual jog past my car. All quite naked. Good thing it wasn't a cold night...cause there was a lot of dangling going on. I spotted them just as they've turned onto the side street where I was parked, so once I've processed what i've seen, i splutteringly exhale, completely dutching the car up.
I still have a very clear picture in my mind of four very white moons bouncing away in my rearview mirror

Edit: Pop goes my b3ta cherry
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 4:41, Reply)
Most Unexpected
Since every human is equipped from birth for nudity, I felt I should focus on the "unexpected" aspect of the question.

That still leaves quite a few choices of experience to relate: the mule train surprising the nudists at the wilderness hot spring; the french foreign exchange student at the pool; catching my wife and my mother skinny-dipping?

Nope, the most unexpected was back in high school. I left my friend Mark alone in my room while I went to pee one evening. I don't remember why he was there, but we were likely going somewhere (I had a car).

I returned to find my door closed - opening it I saw Mark lying back on my bed, pants at half-mast, furiously stroking his cock. The visual is still burned into my mind these 35 years later: the curly reddish-blond pubes, the slight curve to the left, and the intense eyes-closed look of concentration on his face.

I must have made some sound - he looked up, stopped, then said "Hey, don't you knock?"

I closed the door quickly, and went into the kitchen. Mark appeared a few moments later, said "Um, sorry about that," and we've never mentioned it since.

Still, What The Fuck? "Don't you knock"? Not when it's my room and I go out for a 2-minute slash. No - I don't knock!

Pass the brainwash,please.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 3:53, 1 reply)
Tenuous link to the topic warning
I’ve mentioned the ex third wheel in my relationship here before but never described her physically (at least I don’t think I have), she was (probably still is but I couldn’t care less whether or not she’s still alive TBH) quite short, about 5’3 or 5’4 to my 5’10 and MrKitty’s 6’2 with very pale skin, a fine boned face, a slim body and a predilection for complete hairlessness way before it was commonplace.

Then she started overdoing the drugs a bit and became very slim. You know the look, mosquito bite tits and all the curves lost. I didn’t complain as by this stage she was the responsibility of her bf, Josh, not me.

So one night we went out, as you do, and the next morning Bec (ex), Josh, MrKitty and I all accompanied our friends Belle and Neil back to their place to carry on the off faced fun throughout the day with all the blinds firmly shut before hitting the town again that night. This being back when youthful exuberance and drugs allow you to really make a weekend of it- Friday night, Saturday day and night awake and trashed, home on Sunday to sleep it of and back to work/ study on Monday.

We were physically comfortable with each other. Each member of the group either had fucked each other, wanted to fuck each other or had heard in graphic detail about how each other fucked. This was all supposed to be secret with only the participants knowing about each episode but that all fell apart when someone mentioned cats screaming and everyone looked at Bec and started laughing. Everyone was looking at each other and realisation dawned on us simultaneously that we’d all heard Bec coming. We’d all fucked her. Then the rest came streaming out. After that the girls of the group would quite happily be naked around each other and hang around in knickers with the boys and the boys would get around topless and we all shared each others clothes when required or wished.

Neil was dealing pills back then and as close friends of the dealer we regularly helped him eat any profit he may have hoped to make from the venture. By early Saturday evening we had consumed about a half weight of speed and 4 or so pills each.

Then Bec demands another. As she is clearly wasted already Belle only allows her a half and they split the pill. 10 mins later Bec decides she feels sick and wants a bath. But she cannot be left alone. So first Belle and I accompany her, then she decides she wants Belle to fetch MrKitty, then Josh and we’re all running around fetching ice cubes, juice, tea, any and everything she wants as we know she’s a drama queen and almost definitely doing this for attention so we may as well give her what she wants. After a bit she fells better and drys herself off and pulls on a fluffy bath robe.

All is good for about an hour and then she says she’s sick again, only this time her eyes are rolling back and she’s sweating so we take her seriously and call the ambos. They turn up and we open the door to the apartment. The look in their eyes causes us to look at the group of us from a slightly different perspective- theirs.

3 early to late 20’s boys, topless in skin tight pants and make up. 2 early 20’s girls in miniskirts, bras and heavy eye make up and 1 apparent preteen, naked beneath an open bathrobe stumbling around like she’s been rohypnoed up good and proper.

We looked like a freaky goth-y swingers club who’d dateraped someone’s kid.

Even though she was fine 10 minutes later, the ambo’s insisted on removing her from the premises until she showed her id, proving that she was 20.

I’ve been called a freak, a psycho and had many weird looks in my time but I’ll never forget the time the ambo’s thought I was a pedophile
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 2:53, 4 replies)
The Babysitter
I was a tender, very immature ten-year-old boy. The babysitter was a large woman in a house-sized summer dress. She was sitting on a sofa with all the little kiddies gathered on the floor in front of her, watching TV. I was right between her legs, and I turned around to ask a question....

No panties.... Completely forgot the question....

I'm scarred to this day....
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 1:03, 1 reply)
naked arab!!1!
I used to live in North London -Finsbury Park, to be exact. From there I had to walk from there to my place of employment in Tuffnel Park.

It's a bit of a trek, especially early on a cold December morning. Nothing really catches your eye at 7am on a monday, so you keep your hands in your pockets and ramble on.

On this specific morning, a "thing" really did catch my eye. And we all know that some things seen, can never be unseen.

I was about 5 minutes from work, walking through a quiet, pretty terraced street when, in the distance, I see a figure walking towards me.

It was a bit misty that morning, so I dismissed the notion that the figure I was seeing was in fact a man dressed only in an unbuttoned leather jacket, talking to himself in Arabic (or Urdu, Persian or any other dialect from the mid-east. I couldn't tell) and periodically stopping to bend down and spit on his shriveled cock.

My first instinct was wrong.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 1:01, Reply)
Short and to the point
One day while riding the tube, I got a rather unexpected and unwelcome chubby. I tried to make things more comfortable down their by rearranging everything and all was well. I went back to staring into space, slightly aware that the passenger opposite me was giving me a nasty look. I thought nothing of it, or maybe that he'd seen me rearrange. After about 15 minutes; my girlfriend let out a small scream and said 'What the Hell! You've got your cock out!!'. Unknown to me, in my rearranging I'd exposed myself almost entirely. I tried to hide it but the damage was done, I was half expecting to be on the evening news but no such luck
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 0:52, Reply)
Rude awakening...
When I was in high school back in 1996 there was this guy who everyone hated for some reason that I ignored. He wasn't a bully or anything, he was just disliked for being himself I guess. He was a skinny, pimply looking guy who pretty much just annoyed the hell out of a lot of people for making stupid comments and his insanely disturbing laugh. I will call him Mr. Pimple just for the sake of literary license.
Our school had recently opened a computer lab and pretty much everyone was hanging around that place to use this "incredible invention" called the internet.
Turns out that during finals my printer ran out of ink and the only solution to my problem was to wake up really early in the morning and get to the computer lab around 7 am to get it printed so I could turn it in by 8.
As I'm waiting for the guys form the lab to open, I saw that there were two people also waiting to get into the lab. One of them was this girl form my class, whom I barely spoke to who also happened to be the hottest girl from my school. Se had this beautiful round, perky pair of tits...Damn...those were the days. And also Mr. Pimple was there.
Finally the allowed us to get in and I quickly managed to secure a computer and started reading and editing stuff last minute. I didn't notice that to my right was Ms. Perfect Tits and to my left was Mr. Pimple. As I leaned to my left to try to reach under the desk for my prints I realize that the printer was a little off my reach so I decided to go all the way under the desk to get the damn print. Next thing I notice is Mr. Pimple fully erect cock. The guy was furiously jaking off.

Now, before i continue let me explain one thing. I've been kind of a sporty guy for most of my life, so I've spent my fair share of time in a locker room with cocks around me, so I really don't get shocked that easily.

But this really made me jump and I banged my head with the desk, causing Ms. Perfect Tits to peep under the desk to check if I was alright.

The shriek that came from her...it was so horrible that it could cause diarrhea to a priest.

Nevertheless, Mr. Pimple kept going at it and finished...right on my term paper...
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 0:52, Reply)
For me,
It's always unexpected when a woman pulls her pants down.
(, Sat 30 May 2009, 0:03, 2 replies)
Half a summer with Monique.
Back when I was but a missykitten the place where I live still deserved the term village. We had 1 set of traffic lights, no trendy boutiques or cafes, everyone knew everyone else on the street and dogs ran loose everywhere leaving white turds falling apart on the pavements. We even had a neighbourhood centre that ran classes for bored housewives, afterschool care and over the holidays arranged fun cheap entertainmenet and trips for the kiddies.

Normally I wouldn't have gone anywhere near it. There were a bunch of kids on my street and we were perfectly capable of making our own fun doing the usual kid things that involve lots of skin loss and blood but are somehow looked back on fondly. But this summer (I would have been 10 or 11-ish) there was an added attraction.

Monique. Early 20's, french and possibly my first ever crush. The accent alone made me tingle.

So over the summer we did various things in a big group with the beautiful Monique overseeing it all. Trips to a theme park, horse riding, bush walks, I made sure I was there for every one to gaze loving at her.

Then the fateful day came about half way through the summer. We were going to the beach. We were told to expect a bit of a hike first as this beach was pretty out of the way. So we go, we do the 2km hike down to the beach, I'm talking to her about swimming and beaches in France and then we step out from the fairly dense bush onto the sand and I look up.

15 or so 11 year old kids simultaneously start screaming in horror.

"Nudist beach! Ewwww!"

That day at the beach I got my first glimpse of a naked man's body apart from my fathers. 20 or so octogenerian men (no women for some reason) jogging, swimming and sunbaking. Hairy chests, backs, ballsacks and buttcracks on full proud display, shrivelled penises bouncing timidly against their legs.

It's amazing that the hill that had taken us an hour to hike down could be run back up in 45 minutes but the thought of what we were leaving behind fuelled our legs.

Monique was fired after that and left to see more of Australia. So that day cost me dearly. Since then I've never even begun to think of going to a nudist beach and to this day the term makes me shiver.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 23:56, 2 replies)
I can laugh now (twitch)
A while ago I was mistakenly kind to a woman who turned out to be a nutter and obsessed and actually got committed.

She had a works leaving do in a dodgy bit of south London and asked me along as protection for the journey home.
She got trolleyed on red wine.
I can lift 100kg, but not in 5f2 drunken wobbly package.
managed to get her back home, coat and shoes off, in the recovery position on the bed, bin ready for wine return.

I took one of the many stolen pint glasses down to the kitchen for a pint of water to leave before going.

When I got back up the light was off. I turned it on and there was a sight. She had stripped off all her clothes bar a pair of white ankle socks. (she had tiny feet, it made it worse by contrast)

She was flat on her back, boob under each armpit, knees in the air, bomb bay doors gaping, muttering vague imprecations to put something in somewhere THEN the icing on the cake.

A huge thunderous fart of the sort with that fleshy wet sound only really fat people can make. I could see ripples so I burst out laughing. Her flatmate woke up and I told her and we were in fits.

" so which page of the book of seduction did she get that one from?"

When I remembered this it was the white socks, it reminded me of those paper chefs hats decorations they put on roast turkeys and chickens in the gravy and paxo adverts way back when.

Don`t get me wrong I`m not a body fascist, a reubens-esque woman can be a source of warmth in winter and valuable shade in summer, but it is a matter of degree, there is a difference between scratching and tearing lumps!
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 23:12, 3 replies)
Security cameras are fun...
Back in the days before I had discovered the joys of mortgages , male pattern baldness and other random grown up worries, the young MattInaAHatt spent much of his free time exchanging bodily fluids with my first proper girlfriend, the former Mrs Hat. (The same former Mrs Hat as mentioned here: www.b3ta.com/questions/unexpectednudity/post434012 )

Back then, much of our spare time was spent exploring the various ways of pleasuring each other with a vigour that only a pair of adolescent rabbits could be expected to match. And when bumping uglies wasn't an option, various expressions, code words and blatant innuendos would be employed to remind the other of what the very near future would hold, once a quiet place and time could be found.

And so it came to pass that many an evening would be spent at the local spar where TFMIAH earned her beer tokens by serving assorted freaks their white lightening and tennents super, and I would skulk about for the last hour of her shift, keeping an eye open for shoplifters, all the time waiting for home time when I could get to try out the various rude things that I had read about in the readers stories in Razzle.

Pretty soon after I'd started hanging round said convenience store, my eye was drawn to the single security camera installed, keeping an eye on the alcohol that was out of sight of the checkout, and being displayed on a television only visible when standing behind the counter.

So a new pastime was born. One that basically consisted of me finding various ways of waggling my todger about in view of the camera and trying to distract TFMIAH as she busied herself serving the various dregs of the area. Obviously what started as a quick flash of junior soon progressed to me swaggering along the aisle, keks around my knees, flapping my danglies around in a vague tribal dance to whatever shit was playing on the radio.

One quiet afternoon I decided to up the ante somewhat. I was feeling particularly horny, helped by the fact that the object of my desires was wearing a tight fitting dress as well as the fact her parents were out which meant that that muchos sexytiem was on the cards. The plan was simple. Get her in the mood, take her home and see where things led.

She was busy serving a bit of a rush as I quietly stepped back to start my performance. Out came junior and sneaking a peek towards he counter could see a dirty smirk on my beloved's face as I proceeded to fluff up my special soldier. Pretty soon He was at full stonk and I decided to show my intentions through the medium of mime. Or basically wanking off enigmatically, while giving dirty looks to the camera. So stunning was my performance, so 'of the moment' that my concentration was only broken by a polite 'ahem.'

"Scuse me Hat, I want to get to the wine" said Joan, the next door neighbour and family friend who'd known my girlfriend since she was born.

And with a smirk and a sly wink,
"Pair of you staying in tonight then?"

(, Fri 29 May 2009, 23:11, 1 reply)
The Empress
Driving to work one morning I passed a small shop. Two police cars were there and the cops had handcuffed a very tall black woman with a noble bearing and detatched demeanor. She looked to me like an African queen (not the movie boat.) I sat in traffic wondering what she might have done to deserve arrest. She appeared too regal to be a mere pilferer. It was only after about half a minute of staring that it finally dawned on me that she was stark nekkid. The Empress had no clothes. Still, she conducted herself with such dignity that it was ignoble and churlish of the police to take notice.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 22:51, Reply)
The Bounty
Anyone who's ever spent time in the South Pacific might be familiar with Bounty rum. Particularly nasty stuff, but about 58% abv, so it certainly did the job.

My last night in Fiji, myself and a few other decided to settle down to a few bottles of the stuff after dinner. At what we figured was about 4 am, we decided we'd head down to the pool for a spot of skinny dipping. After a very quick (and drunk) look around for late night lurkers, we all disrobed and headed in the pool. After a couple of minutes, the maitre'd from the restaurant headed out, and simply pointed to the restaurant.

Cue at least 15 horrified honeymoon couples staring at 6 pissheads frolicking about in the pool as they tucked into their steak.

The time? 9:15pm.

The length? A lot shorter on the way out than on the way in.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 22:36, Reply)
Not quite unexpected nudity, but horrific - and this gives me a chance to unburden.
During my time working for a mobile telecomms company, I struck up a bit of a rapport with a lad named Chris. In fact, I struck up a bit of a rapport with a couple of lads named Chris. So, in the interests of disambiguation in case either of them ever read this, it's not the Frantic Pastie who regaled us with tales of the Angelsey Dangler. This was the Other Chris.

This Other Chris was into Runescape? Or Everquest? Or whatever proto-mumorepegger was doing the rounds before Warcrack. He also fancied himself a bit of a techie, but wasn't particularly committed.

Anyhoo, he bought this machine from a scambadger in North Tyneside. It was wonk - serious wonk. Kept falling over and so forth. In the end he asked me to take a look at it.

On opening the case I found one problem immediately. Apparently the geordie cretin had run out of those bug chunky screws you use to fix case fans to the back-vent of the machine. Displaying a misplaced ingenuity that in some parallel world may be indicated genius, he'd decided to mount it inside the case, parallel to the mainboard, by multitasking the screw used to fix the AGP graphics adaptor in its slot. Five out of ten for effort I guess. This was remedied, but the system was still wonky.

After trying a few diagnostics to no avail and not finding anything conclusive, I reseated memory - no joy. Thought what the hell, I'll reseat the processor (not as far fetched as it sounds - I've seen 939s held in place by the heatsink and fan but insufficient contacts made). I lifted the fan and found the reason.

Now you know on some of the older heatsinks you got a peel-off label that protected the thermal gurp? He'd neglected to peel it off. I took a couple of pics for posterity and remedied the situation.

After dropping it off (with my then-partner in tow) I was given the task of arranging internet access between the two. Cat 5 xover, Windows 98SE and Internet Connection Sharing. Over dial up. Urrrggh.

With the [impatient] partner downstairs trying to make the smallest of talk with his partner - who was horrific - I did what I could and left him to his orc-bashing. Tried to be a bit personable prior to leaving the house, as suddenly doing a runner after sorting out a machine is considered impolite.

After a couple of minuter some mental subprocess kicked in and I noticed that the Horror Head - who was no picture, weighed about half as much as a small car and had been eclipsed in conversational skills by experimental monkeys - had her legs wide apart and, with the long skirt she was wearing, meant I was being granted visual access to a somewhat stained-looking and unpleasant gusset.

I never knew whether the ex- was aware of this, but there must have been some perception that things were awry with the unseemly haste by which I gathered my belongings, made my excuses, and left for the pub to blot out the horror.

Booze didn't work, so I'm hoping the power of B3ta can exorcise the memory. Click "I like this" if, yada yada yada.

Peace and fucking, YS out.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 22:13, 3 replies)
I am incredibly short-sighted. And female.
Anyway. One night I had my mate over to stay. He was crashing in my lounge (the door to which was faulty and couldn't be closed).

Bed-time comes, so I say goodnight to my mate, waltz off to the bathroom and take out my contact lenses. Then I remembered to tell my mate something, so wandered back into the lounge without bothering to put my glasses on. I really am short-sighted, so my mate is just a fuzzy blob.

I'm nattering away to my mate, but he's acting funny with me, not really replying, just acting strange. After a few minutes, I squinted a bit at my mate and realised that he wasn't just a fuzzy blob, he was an entirely pink fuzzy blob. Why would he be pink? Because he's not wearing any... ohhhhh....

So, as my mate sees it, he's getting changed for bed, completely starkers, and in I wander and strike up a conversation with him like nothing unusual's going on.

He never stayed again.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 21:41, Reply)
Not MY unexpected nudity
cos I knew we were starkers. But ... a shorter one this time ! (Fnar).

Last Christmas day night me and the fiance got absolutely plastered. He challenged me to a game of Drinking Trivial Pursuit, confident he'd win. Unfortunately for him, most of the questions came out as film related, and he's shit at films, and more importantly I'm not.
So many shots of vodka later he's going all for a forfeit he thinks I'll refuse (therefore meaning he wins by default)- he says, "If you get the next question wrong, you have to run up the garden naked. If you don't, I'll run up the garden naked."
I'm feeling no pain (having had more than a few voddies myself) so I agree.
Sadly for him chance picks a film question, which I get right. So has to strip off and do the run.

My fiance is totally blind. He has no sight whatsoever, and he couldn't run in a straight line anywhere if his life depended on it. I'm not much better, but I have some residual vision and it's my own garden we're talking about so I know the route. Somehow he persuades me to get naked and run with him too (fuck knows why - I won the bloody question afterall !) I think we'll be fine though cos it's dark and the neighbors won't see. And we're drunk so it's all fun and games. Heh.

So two fucking drunk blind idiots strip off and stagger out of the back door, dogs barking, wobbly bits shaking, and I try to guide him - running - up the garden path. We giggle like lunatics and run through the frosty night air like a couple of nerks, trying to be quiet but failing as only drunken twats can do.
We get up to the other end of the garden, having bounced off the shed, plants, trees etc, knocking over garden furniture, and turn to come back. The dogs are still going nuts and we're gurning like fools.
Suddenly the neighbor's back door opens.
"Who's there ?" shouts my elderly male neighbor, obviously thinking there's a fucking burglary in progress or something. His missus is cawing from behind him, "Be careful Eddie ! "
We freeze in the dark... just as one of the dogs runs past the pir sensor for my 500w security light - something I had deliberately avoided tripping - which comes on with a firm "click".
And there we were- the two mental blind buggers that all the neighbors don't know how to talk to, naked as the day we were born, and illuminated in 500 watts of glory.
My fiance, having no light perception, says, "Whassappening ?"

The only sound I could hear in the chilly stillness was the neighbor's back door closing with a slam.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 20:51, 3 replies)
Man Balls
I work in a factory in the depths of essex. I dont live in essex i should point out, Im a northerner who moved south for the job. Essex really is a world all of its own. There are numerous pranks the factory boys play on each other, however, the most recent works thus-

Man A wants to slowly destroy Man B's self confidence and reputation.

When Man A and Man B are alone in a stock room etc Man A quietly releases his balls from his flies, leaving his cock tucked in his pants, and continues to work. When Man B notices Man A's balls, Man A tells Man B that he doesnt have his balls out and that Man B is gay pervert for thinking such things and shouldnt be imagining he can see Man A's balls.
This continues for a week or so untill Man B starts telling other people that Man A keeps showing him his balls. Man A, a far more trusted and liked individual, insists that man B is a bit weird and that he must want people to show him their balls and that he never got his balls out.
This prompts the more roudy factory workers to get their balls out when ever Man B enters the room to the point that now Man B cant go more than an hour with out being presented with balls.

(, Fri 29 May 2009, 20:37, 3 replies)
Dancing boobies
I play in a traditional Scottish band, and one night at a wedding we were playing for a dance called the Dashing White Sergeant. Part of this involves 6 people dancing round and back in a circle, holding hands. It's quite a vigorous dance, and a lot of wedding garb for women is not designed for such activity, so their boobage tends to pop out on occasion.

Anyway, on this night, a woman up near the stage had on a strapless dress, and while dancing in the circle her tits made a break for freedom. Seeing her predicament, the two men on either side held her hands tightly to prevent her from rescuing the situation, so she was dancing with everything on full display and wobbling energetically for a full 8 bars of music. Nice dark nipples they were too, I seem to remember.

Of course we in the band had all spotted this, and the fact that she saw the four of us chuckling lecherously made it all the sweeter!
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 20:29, 1 reply)
Tenerife Chesticles
Long ago a group of us went to Tenerife for a couple of weeks. One lad had his two sisters with him, and all three were as straight-laced as a BNP member's DM. NO chance of one of their nipples getting any sun.

Anyhow, off to the waterpark for a day, where one girl gets on those large innertubes, where you hold on with both hands and go down a very twisty and lumpy water slide.

My mate and I spotted his sister just as she was coming around the last bend, when WHUMP, up she went and both jubblies broke free. Seeing her frantically trying to get them under control, hold on to the innertube and maintain some dignity was only second to the pleasure I got telling her brother that she had nice norks, but why was he looking at them?
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 19:54, Reply)
My two year old son.
Pissing on the carpet.

Did I tell you he's just learnt he can take his own nappy off?

At least I can blame the shit stains on the sheets on him, now.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 19:49, 2 replies)
Saturday afternoon at Leeds festival and I'm turquoise-jacketed up and wandering yellow bubble campsite watching out for trouble. There's remarkably little trouble on Saturday afternoons, so mostly we're just wading through ankle-deep mud while revellers sing The Final Countdown at us.

Until a man wearing nothing but a tiny pair of ladies' neon pink mesh knickers runs past us. There's nothing quite like the sight of a cock and balls squashed up into the smallest space possible.

Put me right off my sausage sandwich, that did.

The film crew with us loved it, though.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 19:30, Reply)
New neighbors
My next-door neighbor is a chain-smoking, overweight, broken down old bar fly. The landlord trusted her to rent the side of the duplex I now reside in, and I think she chose me because she thought I was close enough to her age that she could get a little action from me.

She was nice enough to do the lawn work while I moved in and unpacked. This included trimming the shrubs around the place.

So I get up one Saturday morn and, as is my custom, walk about the house without the benefit of any covering. Of course, I haven't gotten the drapes up yet, and as I walk out into the living room, guess who's trimming the shrubbery in front of the big picture window, cigarette/fag hanging out of her mouth?

Not sure if she got a peek or not, but she was friendly for a while.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 19:23, Reply)
I had an ex boyfriend who used to come down the stairs in his bathrobe and flash at me in the kitchen.
Very unexpected but very nice.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 18:55, 3 replies)
More than a handful
I'm quite a busty wench. When I get older I'm going to be abit like Nurse Gladys from Open All Hours - I suspect young shop boys will get caught in my cleavage and need oxygen to keep them going. My dad has always said I could keep a family of ethnic minorities in there. Stray objects, if not nailed down, have been known to gravitate towards my norks due to the mass of said globes, and form an orbit around them. That is, if they can escape the orbit of my arse, which is the sort that Freddie Mercury alluded to in "Fat Bottomed Girls". I genuinely have back problems due to the weight of my tits, because the rest of me isn't built the same way - except my arse of course. So - you get the idea, there's a whole lot of woman in all the right directions here. As a result, buying bras is abit of a trauma at the best of times, and garments that fit on the top half are far far too big on the waist for me. And clothes that fit on the waist need to be lycra based - and can cause fear of busting out all over, so to speak. To add to this, I am virtually blind, so the possibility for accidental pop outs without me knowing them is pretty high.

So picture the scene (wavy lines......)
Boyfriend-of-the-time and I go out one evening to some nasty cheap fun pub and get fecking munted. We have been drinking all sorts of shite off the back row of the bar in this place just to see what it tastes like, then go back to his and drink some rough as fuck homemade sloe gin. I mean, (shudder) this stuff was fucking evil and it turns my stomach to even recall it. I hate gin at the best of times, but as is often with these things, it seemed like a good idea at the time (it wasn't - and thereby hangs two sad tales, but one isn't relevant to the qotw so is for another time.)
Eventually we get back to mine - we don't stop over at his because I've got two big German Shepherd dogs at home who need letting out and caring for. We stagger in, let dogs out in the garden for a wee wee, decide against taking them for a last-thing-at-night (now early morning) walk as we can barely manage to walk ourselves, and stagger off to bed.
The house I lived in at the time didn't have a big back garden - what it did have was often muddy as fuck, except for the concrete bit just outside the kitchen door. The house was in a terrace and this bit of concrete was overlooked by the bathroom in my house and that of the house next door. This is where my beastly dogs liked to piss last thing at night if they didn't get walked, so often first thing in the morning before they went out there I had to get the hosepipe out and wash it down, else they'd be walking around in their own night old piss as they circled for the morning doggy dump (somehow fresh piss they managed to avoid !) They didn't care a toss about walking in their own last night's wee - but when a dirty great pair of GSDs track dog piss into my kitchen and through the house, I certainly did !

On this particular morning I am still dressed in last night's bed attire, which is a see through red thing from La Senza that has only a passing aquaintance with the top of my thighs and can't even hope to cover my capacious arse, which barely covers my badger and is just not up to the job of restraining my lady lumps, plus the smallest see through g string known to woman.
On this particularly morning, I am also still pissed from the night before, can see less than usual because I'm still bladdered and can't be bothered to put on a dressing gown because it'll only get wet and wrapped round my legs as I prat around with the hosepipe like a spastic learning semaphore. And the dogs want a wee NOW, as I can tell by the doggy whining and panting.

So I peep out of the kitchen door at about half six, then thinking that my luck is in because I suddenly remember that Next Door are on holiday. So I scurry out there in last night's stupid fuck-me heels as they're the only shoes I can find (playing "tip toe through the dog piss" as I go).
I am sleepily washing down the concrete with the hose in one hand, whilst trying to keep my tits inside baby doll nightie cups that seem to be at least three sizes too small with the other, when the seal on the hose attachment gives way and I get the spray back - freezing cold water right at my chest. I am immediately fucking sodden, like a drowned rat. Instantly the red thing from La Senza becomes utterly window transparent and I'm there looking like a wet and wild amateur porn effort, with my puppies out of the top of the thing, glistening with water, and my vadge now utterly visible, and gasping in shock. I swear and squeal like a demented animal.
It is then when - well, I just get This Feeling.
It's the feeling you get when you're being watched. I get this alot, being blind as a bat and apt to walk into things, and often can't tell whether it's based in reality or not, but this time I was fairly sure it was. I squint myopically upwards and realise I am right under next doors bathroom window. Squashed up together liked sardines in a tin, barely able to contain themselves as they gape out of the little open window - they musta stood on chairs for this as it was the top pane they were looking out of - are three delighted builders who are looking straight down at my unfettered tits and sodden scanties. In my pissed state I had forgotten Next Door were having work done whilst away on holiday.
On being discovered, two of them slink away, chuckling, but the middle one says, cheerily, "Nice morning for it, love !"
Totally fucking mortified with embarrassment I decide to brazen it out rather than run off, and I say, "Thankyou - now on yer way, sonny jim !"
I could hear them laughing through the walls all day.

The even worse thing was when they came knocking on the door the next day when I got up and they heard sounds of life from my house. A courier had left a parcel for me with them, and when I answered the door, they chorused, "Didn't recognise you with yer clothes on !"

The work went on for another six weeks. I remained red as a beetroot for at least eight.
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 18:52, 6 replies)
I managed to expose myself to a street party - and there really was the whole street out that night - at a millenium eve party in South Woodford, having sex with my boyfriend at the time
Click this if you want to read the rest of the story.

don't bother as they'll probably just delete it again!
(, Fri 29 May 2009, 18:52, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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