pitching a tent
We were camping in Cornwall in the year of the solar eclipse, 1999 if memory serves me correctly. I awoke one morning in my dome tent with a MONUMENTAL hangover. My head was spinning, I felt sick, I was so dehydrated I thought I might just turn to dust and blow away in a light breeze, and the sun was beating down on the tent, super heating the air inside.

I desperately needed some fresh air, so I opened the zip of the tent door a little. This wasn’t enough, so I unzipped it a little more. Still not enough, so I ended up fully opening the door of the tent, and the inner mosquito netting too. Then I fell back to sleep.

I was awoken several hours later by the sound of my mates, pissing themselves laughing. In my slumber I had also managed to kick my duvet off. I was laying on my back, stark bollock naked, with the tent door completely open and I was, therefore, visible to anyone who happened to walk past.

And many people were walking past. As this was the eclipse year, the campsite was packed. We were pitched quite near the shower block, next to the main path. Everyone going to and from the showers walked straight past my tent, and were treated to the delightful view of my shriveled cock and hairy nut sack.

To all the nice families who had their holidays spoilt by the sight of my genitals that morning, I am truly, truly sorry.

At least I didn’t wake up with a stiffy.
(Lionel Tiger, Tue 2 Jun 2009, 20:15, Reply)