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This is a question Voyeurism

Enzyme asks "Have you ever accidentally seen something intimate and private and... well... ended up watching? Or found that others had been watching you?"

(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 18:14)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

This question is now closed.

I saw a fat, hairy, odd-looking man wanking whilst watching me when I was naked in the bathroom.
Oh, it was a mirror.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 20:43, Reply)
Once upon a time in a city in Engerlaaand
I got hideously drunk dressed as a Scout. I managed to lose all my mates (who were all dressed as boy Scouts and Brownies), and stumbled around looking for people. My memory of the evening kicks in at about the point where I was slouched in a doorway, 'pleasuring' a girl with my hand down her knickers, slobbering into each others mouths when a riot van with 6+ coppers in pulls up, the passenger window goes down and the friendly copper in the passenger seat says "Steady on Sam, you don't know where he's been." Que the blue lights, siren, much laughing and the riot van speeds away. Poor old Sam the Policewoman has been caught by her co-workers being fingered by a 22 year old drunk man dressed as a Scout.
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 8:06, Reply)
Not strictly sex related...
but it seemed intimate and private.

In a car travelling through the city centre one morning when the car stops at a set of lights (as cars often do)at a junction.I espied, on a nearby pavement, a man trying to cross the road, the road intersecting the one I was on, a road on which the little green man had not yet beckoned our pedestrian to the paralell paving.

The man runs out into the road, a skinny young thing (the man,that is, not the road) dressed in what were evidently his work clothes-nice suit, briefcase etc.He runs out in a desperate attempt to reach the otherside and gets half way before he decides to run back.

Indulging in a little bit of schaudenfreude [sic]I let out a chuckle and continue to watch, in the hope that I will witness another of this poor souls woeful road-crossings.

A second later and my wish is fulfilled, except this time our hero takes two steps into the road before a honking horn indicates that it isn't such a great idea.

A giggle escapes my lips as this man, now a little infuriated stands on the pavement, waiting for a more oppurtune moment. He pulls out a cigarette and goes to light it BUT WAIT!!! A perfect chance to cross the road presents itself, and the poor fool has wasted valuable seconds lighting a cigarette. He rushes out but barely reaches the end of the pavement before sense conquers the passion of the moment- he's too late, there are cars on the way.

Now audibly cursing ("arsecock" were his exact words), he takes a long pull on is cigarette while I, in the safety of a vehicle begin to laugh heartily at this "cream-faced loon" (to quote Macbeth)

Two more failed attempts and I realy am laughing at this pitiable sight, his angry curses getting louder and less inventive ("CUNT")

Until, finally, just as the lights will surely change and I will have to move away from this entertainment, there is the perfect openng. All traffic is gone, as a final Ford Focus zooms off into the distance. He can't possibly fail to cross.

I don't know whether it was because of the excitement or because the guy was Joseph Stalin in a past life but what happened next was a truly incredible sight to behold.
The fucker only went and dropped his briefcase.
The briefcase only went and burst open.
Paper only blew out fucking everywhere.

I let out an unholy bark of hysterical laughter as our protaginist bellows his entire vocabulary of naughty rudey swear words into the heavens, kicks the briefcase as hard as he can and then falls to his knees, sobbing without tears, while paper gently dances around him in the wind.

Now if that isn't witnessing something intimate and private I don't know what is.
(, Tue 16 Oct 2007, 20:36, 2 replies)
I was sitting in a pub in Wakefield having a loud conversation about dogging, as you do.

This guy who I had only just met 5 minutes ago(introduced by a friend, so not some pub random) was going into a long story of how he and the gf were into dogging.

One of the rules of dogging apparently is windows down = come over and join in. The couple were getting down to it with him face first in her lady parts when he feels someone reach through the window and start to give some hand relief. Not thinking to look until hes at the vinegar strokes , he saw a filthy wizened old man clutching his penis.

in his words "he was like a tiny homeless Alf Garnet look alike, and he was touching my cock"

we were all staring into our pints looking a bit embarrassed when he filled the silence with

"the worst thing about it though is that that was the best handjob I have EVER received in my life. I have to give him credit for that"

We left shortly after, the voyeurism part of course coming from the slack jawed and wide eyed office types sat behind us who had heard every last word.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 20:17, Reply)
I was on-call
Years ago I worked for a retail company where I had to be on-call at weekends for 'emergencies'. Anyway, one Saturday one of our stores had a minor fire and I had to go and sort some stuff out.

Everything fixed, I went back to the office to write up a brief report. I walked into the office where the Operations guys were. Except, there was nobody there. "That's strange" I thought "There's supposed to be someone here at all times during trading hours". And then I heard it. Coming from the server room: "OH MICKEY! OH YEAH! F**K ME MICKEY! F**K ME HARD! CALL ME A F**KING WH*RE MICKEY!".

It seemed that Mickey had invited his girlfriend in to keep him company.

Well, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to interrupt a man while he's banging his girlfriend - especially when she's giving him such good encouragement. But on the other hand, I just want to get the report written and get out quick.

I spot my headphones on my desk. So I sit down and start writing the report - with my headphones on.

10 minutes later, Mickey's girlfriend walks out of the server room and lets out a huge "OH HOLY F**KING JEBUS!" and goes bright red.

I just feigned surprise and said "OH! Sorry to startle you! I didn't think anyone was in. I was listening to the radio. I guess I should have taken these headphones off when I came in!"

She suddenly saw that I was giving her an easy get-out. This way we could both just pretend that I heard nothing.

She looked instantly relieved.

It was a perfect situation... until of course, Mickey walked out behind her, doing up his flies, and asked her "What are you shouting about? Yer ar*ehole isn't bleeding again is it?"

And with that - the game was up.
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 16:14, Reply)
There was a time when I was doing the "dogging a workmate" game for a few months. Regularly I'd end up at hers after a hard days coding (we were a small software/website company) and pretending nothing was happening while all the time thinking about the debauched acts you wanted to perform on the c# girl that night. Thus, the sexitime was, to be fair, some of the best, roughest, and loudest I've ever had.
Anyway, turns out her neighbours had regularly complained to her after I'd gone about the rythmic thumping, screamings, crashings and general carnage that went about during such events. Almost each time in fact. In fairness, I could understand, but it put me off about 0% setting about the job each time.
Anyway, as we knew this guy used to listen, we thought we'd give him something to listen too....being the most random finishing phrase I could possibly come up with, while, er finishing up. Actually, when I say 'we', I mean 'me' to be honest, but I digress.

Such gems would include:
"I AM THE TERMINATORRRRRRR!" In the loudest, lowest, gruffest, ejaculation-distorted voice I could conjour up.

The geekiest was perhaps a rough recital of FTP commands:
"150 Connecting!, 331 Logged In! GAAAAH JEEESUS!!..............200 Upload complete!".

Try doing that when peaking the mountain AND timing it right.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 19:33, Reply)
Voyeurs, FIGHT!!
Ok, this a long one, ooer vicar, but I've dined out on this story in many a pub exchange and it always gets a good laugh, so try and stay with me.

In York I lived 3 floors up and the back of our place where the bedroom was located was opposite the back end of all the hotels in the next street along. When retiring to bed due to the fact our bed was against a wall on 2 sides and my other half was normally already in there on the outside edge, I had to stand on the end of it then 'fall back' in to get into it, and as the end of the bed was right next to the window and we always kept our curtains open for airflow in the summer, the last event of the night was normally to have a quick exchange of partial to full nudity with those opposite doing the same thing, normally nothing too unusual or shocking, often a bit of a wave and a giggle, especially with German tourists about.

Anyway, at some point I find myself in an odd situation, some chap opposite I notice is having sex with some skinny lass with an incredible amount of extremely bright lighting and the large window wide open, curtains back, exposed to the planet, with lots of unnecessary noise. Well, obviously, you take a look, don't you, and this becomes a regular thing about every other week, but after just a few nights I realise this is a bit odd, especially as the skinny lass gets replaced by another equally skinny lass each session, and having noticed the video camera one night it dawns on me he's shooting cheap lumpy porn, with him as the main star!

Well, not exactly a problem you may think, except said DIY pornstar starts to object to me seeing his performance, and we get this rather bizarre situation where when he's doing his thing and I'm about to get into bed, he starts running to the window, bits wobbling everywhere, and ranting at me about being a 'Durty little c*nt' and such!

Pot, kettle, black and all that, and I'm thinking 'Well I'll be damned if I'm gonna turn off me lights and draw me curtains to hide myself from some evidently bonkers naked bloke who feels the need to do it open to the world, then gets pugilistic that folks can see it, especially when he's presumabley gonna distribute the resultant video!' so I keep on doing my thing as always, sometimes lingering longer just to annoy the objectional little twunt, he keeps escalating his victim rant thing, and after a while going to bed or even just walking by the window becomes an annoying trial-by-naked-nutter, the main phrase of annoyance being 'You wanna see a REAL MAN, do ya, eh!?', when we're talking some paunchy Paul Calf lookalike replete with moustache and mullet and a knob like an Iceland frozen carrot.

Any wonder he ain't hitting the bigtime...

So, what to do?

After discussing this 'problem' with friends one night in the pub and going through alsorts of possible ways to annoy this fellow back, from too silly ones like 'Have better sex than him by your window' to too serious ones like 'Go tell the police about it', and none of them feeling quite right, someone suggests 'Get a mate who's hung like a donkey to stand in front of your window and make him feel inadequate!'.

Now at that time I don't know any mates hung like a donkey, least of all any willing to come stand in me window on demand at 11pm at night, but this does gives me an idea:

Our windows are about 25-30 metres apart, quite a distance, and my window, unlike his, has a net curtain that further obscures things and the light is very much behind me, so I hit upon an idea to make a comedy pair of huge cock pants!

Yes, you heard me!

I got a pair of small briefs and some of that flesh coloured sticky bandage stuff (like plasters on a roll) and covered them in a strip of it at the front top edge to camouflage them, then a pair of old socks wrapped in more of same, and bish bash bosh, a wearable floppy knob to shame John Holmes and Jeff Stryker combined! Of course, close up it looks like a bairns arm that's been thru a mangle and a visit to very understaffed A&E, but from that distance and backlit...

So, on to the show, well, I must admit, I rather started to enjoy myself at this point, and I got right into my part, fnarr fnarr, and decided I would wrap a towel about myself and pretend I had just left the shower and 'accidentally' lose the towel at the window thereby exposing said appendage in a 'natural manner'.

So that night just before bed I look out for him doing his thing with my lights off, yup there they are, lights blazing, faux exclaiming away for the camera doggy style, facing the window, so I put me Frankenstein's Monster's Cock Pants on and wrap a towel round my waist, my curtains open, and on go the lights for the show.

A casual walk to the window, quick sly check without being obvious to see if I've attracted his attention and there he is, he's dropped his fellow 'actress' already, she's looking like 'Oh lord not this again' head on arm, probably thinking fag break time, and he's leaning out of his window ready and waiting, so I turn to our curtains and start tugging at them, but ooh, ooh they're stuck, and he's off, bait taken, he's ranting he's raving and doing his how very dare you thing, but gosh, these curtains aren't moving are they, so he's going ballistic by this point, self induced indignant enragement like a Daily Mail reader outside a Paediatrician, so I take my other hand off the towel to aid moving these troublesome drapes, thus unleashing the beast, who makes a proud silhouette in my net curtains!

Suddenly, we have silence.

There is a second or two of confusion on my part, I continue for a moment in my 'Stuck curtains' mime, fake schlong a schwinging, then, too curious anymore not to see what's going off, I look down, and I find he's looking up, she's sitting on her haunches doing the same, our eyes meet, and there is a brief frozen moment where nobody knows what to do and I wonder if this was all a good idea after all, when suddenly, bang zoom, he launches himself off his sill backwards, slams the sash window shut, and if it's possible to slam curtains too, he does!

SCORE!! I punch the air, and that was the end of the problem, never saw or heard from him again.

I didn't even get a chance to shout 'Sorry for the length, mate!' ;)

Tee hee hee...
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 11:29, Reply)
Tall storeys
It's reassuring to me that so many b3tards share my own peeping-tom perversions. Perhaps that's why I love it here... here's my own recent experience.

Mrs Chart Cat and I live in a high-rise block of flats. Our apartment isn't overlooked by any of our neighbours, except the gay couple who live next door, but they are always out.

One Friday evening, she was out and I was on callout duty, so I couldn't leave the house. I got bored, so I went to have a look around on the balcony. Mischief soon took over, so I fetched my high-calibre aircraft-spotter binoculars and I started scanning across the many windows visible from my lofty perch. Within a few minutes, I'd spotted a young, good looking couple wearing only towels in the low-rise flats across the road. As they watched TV, her hands were rummaging around in his towel, so I went inside and grabbed a beer, wedged the binoculars in place and took up my seat to enjoy the show.

I was treated to a half-hour long spectacle that rivalled any of the grot I have plundered from the murky depths of the internet. Through those powerful zoom lenses, I witnessed every kind of penetration, multiple positions and at one point, they went out onto their own balcony to get some fresh air, giving me an even better view of proceedings. Being alone and having solidly-positioned the binoculars against the balcony guard rail, I couldn't resist the urge to join them in their coitus, albeit from quite a distance. So I fwapped away for a while, watched him unload all over her face, then I promptly finished myself off too.

Just as I did so, I heard a noise that was too close for comfort. Like a startled meercat, I sprang up and away from the edge of the balcony to be greeted by the sight of one of the gay lads next door wearing nothing but a smile as he watched me concluding the shameful act.

The yin-yang balance of the universe had been restored. In the process of being a voyeur, I had inadvertently become the subject of it myself. My neighbour winked at me, wished me a pleasant evening and went back inside. I couldn't say anything, nor move. I felt double-dirty, both in that post solo-climax kind of way, and for being the subject of sexual spying myself.

Sadly, most of this story is true, I promise. I'm terrified of bumping into him on the long journey to our floor in the lift...
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 16:17, Reply)
I'm going to regret this...
Many moons ago, I had a girlfriend from a large town in Suffolk. She was a cracking girl, we got on like a house on fire, but there came a time where she couldn't find work oop north so had to move back home to her folks (we weren't at the moving in stage yet) so for a few months we did the difficult long-distance thing.

Unsurprisingly, when we did find ourselves in each other's company, we were like rabbits. Except, when I visited it her it would mean me staying at her parents' house, on the sofa bed, alone (very conservative, her parents were).

So any opportunity to make with the nekkidness was taken up with aplomb - especially one night we'd been out in town and she couldn't keep her hands off me. So we decided, as we got to her house, that Something Had To Be Done.

As it happened, her parents were in bed, but to ensure they weren't woke up by our antics, she decided to take me down the garden path (literally), into the wooded bit at the end of the garden, and give me a bit of a seeing to, her on top, me lying back and thinking of England.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, there was an alleyway that ran past the back of the garden, and the fence separating was slightly exposed at said wooded area.

So when I look up past my darling girlfriend's shoulder for a brief second as she's taking all her pent-up frustration out on me, what do I see but a couple of winos with token alcohol in brown paper bags stood, watching the action infront of them, giving me the thumbs up and appearing to motion some kind of 'give her one from us' gesture, then waved me goodbye and started off on their drunken merry way!

Well, what could I do?

I waved back. After all, in any situation one finds one in, it's manners are always important.

A week later, the girlfriend gave me a call sounding rather distressed and confused after 'some winos' had seen her walking the dogs through the park, and shouted 'THAT'S HER WHO WE WERE TELLING YOU ABOUT BOYS, SHE GOES LIKE THE CLAPPERS!!!'.

They were right.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 21:25, Reply)
Slapper! Bets! Doggy Style! Cowboy Hats!
When I was at Uni, there were 7 of us in a house. We'd been friends for years, and had no secrets from one another (except the lad who hid the fact he was gay until he was sectioned some years later).

One guy had been seeing a girl who would do pretty much anything with anyone. He was pleased as she was ace in bed, but her constant infidelity upset him a bit.

As it was a casual thing, he shared some details and a bet was eventually made. We offered him a tenner each if he could get her from behind and convince her to bark like a dog. Further bonus money was available if he could wear his cowboy hat at the same time.

Naturally we had to witness this in order to pay out so we drilled a hole in his door, suitable for peeking through.

A few nights hence he was out with her, and brought her back. We waited for him to get down to business and began a-peeking. She was dirty (and we were surprised to see he hadn't been lying when he said he had a big knob, the bastard!) and gradually things hotted up.

Unaware that there was a group of lads taking turns to watch through the viewing hole, Nick turned her round, then gave us a wink and thumbs up. He whispered in her ear, and all of a sudden the barking began. He reached round to his chair, put on his hat, and even exceeded expectations by making full on rodeo motions.

We collapsed laughing and made our way from the door to the living room and began counting out money, and opening some cans.

When she left we cornered Nick, and presented him with the dough. He accepted gratefully and said he was trying so hard not to laugh he nearly fell off.

One of the funniest things I've ever seen.
(, Mon 15 Oct 2007, 11:09, 1 reply)
In my yoof I used to work on a farm during the summer break. It was a great place - an International Workcamp where students from all over the world would descend for a couple of weeks, do some work and then bugger off to replaced by a fresh batch. It was heaven for a fanny-rat like me.

Anyway. This one night I trapped off with a lovely scouse girl and retired to my tent to make the beast with two-backs but in my beer-sodden state I'd missed a couple of things. Firstly, my tent was very close to one of the camp fires so that everything going on within was silhouetted against the tent sides. Secondly, I'd forgottent that a tent is not a house and that everything you say inside is easily heard by people within a few meters.

But the thing that tipped it over into comedy was that said scouser was a howler.

So there I was, pegging away like a jackhammer and she was moaning and howling and I was trying to concentrate and she was putting my right off my stride.

"FUCK ME!! FUCK ME!! FUCK ME!!" she screamed.

So I stopped. Looked down at her and inquired:

"What do you think I'm doing - riding a bike?"

Campsite explodes with laughter and a voice comes from the darkness

"Right in one....."

(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 3:40, Reply)
Pizza Hut 1990 - First Date Blues
I took my first long term squeaze to the Pizza Hut, (I was a student pauper, it was all I could afford).

She was beautiful, (although she worked in Woolworths on a Saturday, and put tissue paper in her bra cups to give one the illusion of larger mammary glands.), long brown hair and legs all the way up to her armpits (I suppose on reflection the lack of a body might've put some men off).

We went after her stint in Woolies to the Pizza Hut, and were shown to a table by the long picture window, which looked out on to the street.

The whole meal was a disaster, the waiter forgot the eating irons, He bought the wrong pizzas over, split coke on my date's lap and then failed to mop it up. I was 16, very naive and had no concept of how to complain effectively.

However the cap on the evening was when a local vagrant appeared at the window next to us, and proceeded to masturbate to orgasm on the glass.
I still have nightmares about hot rivulets of tramp-jizz rolling down a window whilst a gurning, thoroughly sated vagrant stares in longingly at my meat feast.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:57, 1 reply)
Tunisia, the worse place in the world for a holiday. You can't go anywhere without being constantly pestered, groped and stared at. It's a bloody nightmare.

Anyway, story.....

Went to Tunisia with then-boyfriend. It was dreadful, it got to half way through the first week when we realised it was almost impossible to leave the hotel without all the hassle. (I'm not wet or anything, it was just that bad) so we spent a goodly amount of time in our room, shagging to relieve the boredem, as you do.

All the rest of our time was spent in the hotel bar. For those that don't know, Muslims aren't supposed to drink, so alcohol is only reeally licenced in registered tourist places, like hotel bars, as a consequence the bar was usually full of Tunisian men.

Anyway, one night a local man came over to us and offered then-boyfriend 100 camels for me. We were a fairly equitable couple and he just told the man I wasn't his possession and no.

We smiled at the thought of what he would do with 100 camels in our Victorian terrace back home and left it at that.

Later on we went to speak to a couple from Barnsley, who were having just as dreadful a time as we were.

The girl of the couple was well presented, nice make-up, you know, all the usual homogenous attractive stuff for people lacking in imagination, you know the sort I mean? Anyway we got round to talking about the locals in the bar.

She pointed to an elderly gentleman and proclaimed proudly "He offered my fella 17 camels for me"

My ex then said "Someone offered me 100 for her" (pointing at me)

Her face dropped, she obviously couldn't understand why anyone would offer more camels for a big girl who's kind of scruffy and lacking in style over "lovely" her.

We all sat around awkwardly until the passing waiter said, with a smile:
"It's probably because they all saw her copulating on the balcony this morning!"

As you can imagine, the silence was deafening.
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 13:27, Reply)
Way back in the mists of time I was camping with some mates near Newquay in cornwall. We were staying in what's basically a farmers field, as Newquay is (as anyone who lives in Devon or Cornwall knows) is a chav-hole of pissed northerners, incredibly hardcore looking 'surfers' who mysteriously disappear as soon as it gets overhead, and ludicrously overpriced places to stay.

And breath.

Anyway, this campsite was super basic and a great place to stay. One morning, sun coming up, I climbed out of my tent and glanced over at the camper van parked next to us. A family, kids up already and playing around the van, laughing and giggling. The parents were in the van, still wrapped in a duvet, with the doors open.

It took me a good 20seconds to realise that they were shagging.

But here's the thing - instead of looking erotic, or tantalising, or sexy or rude, it just looked really natural and, well, fantastic. The sun was coming up, the colours of the day just brightening up, kids playing, dew on the grass and a crisp sunny day just beginning - it just looked so cool and natural and weirdly unremarkable that this couple were making love on a morning like this.

I just thought those kids were so lucky to have parents that were still in to each other like that, and it made my day.

If you think about it, for thousands of years families lived in one room dwellings - seeing your parents or relatives shagging must have been normal then..it's only cos we're all so weirdly secretive about it that makes it so voyeuristic inthe first place.
(, Sun 14 Oct 2007, 21:52, 2 replies)
Back in the day...
...when I was a rampant, rutting, stallion of a man, not the pathetic excuse for an arse-potato that I am now (did anybody use ‘arse-potato’ in the insults QOTW?). Anyhoooo, I was in a satisfyingly lengthy relationship with what could only be described as a ‘fine young filly’

Now we were very young, delirious and devoted. This was our first ‘serious’ relationship; we were anxious to please, cater to whims and generally willing to do anything to keep each other happy (ooh if only you could see the cheesy grin on my face as I reminisce here…ahhh).

I had borrowed my dad’s (shit-heap shed) of a car and taken this fair maiden out for drinks one evening, as young couples invariably do.

We talked, we laughed, we drank. The evening went swimmingly – she looked beautiful, I was glowing with pride to be seen with such a divine creature, and we were in love. Real love. As we left the pub, we held hands and as we approached the car, we kissed, gently at first, but then with the increasing intensity of a couple that were struggling to contain the raw passion of our raging young hormones. After what seemed a mere blissful heartbeat of a tryst that I never wanted to end, it was time to chauffeur my beloved angel back to the safety of her mum & dad’s house.

I knew I would start missing her the second I dropped her off. Just her smile and the smell of her perfume was more intoxicating than the alcohol; and the way she had held me tightly – as if each embrace could be our last moment on earth, it all combined to make the evening so special. I thought to myself – ‘I must savour every wonderful romantic moment, bask in the glory that I was experiencing at such a young age what some men are never fortunate to enjoy in a lifetime, and most importantly, that I must cling to this sweet vision of perfect loveliness, respect her always, and never take her feelings for granted, for she should be treated like a queen.

As we drove down an idyllic country lane, she leaned over towards me and in her husky, silky, breathy tones, she spoke:

“Get your cock out, I wanna suck you off”

‘Fucking Get in!’ I thought, as she undid the safety belt and slid towards my flies.

(Did I neglect to mention that when the mood took her, this bird was ruder than opening a Chubby Brown DVD, only to find bonus hardcore orgy grumble flicks and a sachet of Vaseline inside?)

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t need asking twice (does anybody?). As she carefully cups my balls, she alternates between taking my shaft deep into her mouth, and expertly moving her tongue up and down, up and down, making those delicious ‘mmm’ noises.

She guides my hands onto her sublime, heaving breasts and massages my palm into her bra, whilst hitching up her skirt, not just to reveal her shapely thighs, but to make it clear for me to see every move of her delicate fingers as she parts her panties to one side and probes within herself, rubbing and sliding, gyrating on waves of pleasure.

‘Crikey Charlie, this ain’t gonna take long’ I think to myself, becoming more aware that the road really wasn’t the thing I wanted to be concentrating on.

I therefore pull into the first dark off-road I can find, grappling to keep control as I drive down a gravel track into an area of deserted marshy woodland. She starts to move faster on both me and herself, shovelling as much of my grateful cock into her mouth as she can handle.

I stop the car and have a quick look around. The coast is clear. ‘Lean back and enjoy it Pooflake, you fucking jammy bastard!’ I think to myself. We now had all the time in the world.

I rest my hand gently on the top of her head and stroke her hair as we glide together towards an amazing crescendo. I lean my head back on the seat and stare at the roof as my toes begin to curl upwards.

The noise and speed were increasing. We were both gushing towards the heavenly point of no return. With ecstatic lethargy, my head slowly turns to gaze out of the drivers’ side window…

To see a massive fucking German Shepherd with both paws on the window gawping about 2 inches from my face. Holding its leash was the equally fucking massive gamekeeper of the private land I had inadvertently strayed onto.

“WOOOOOF” said the dog
“What’s going on here?” Said the gamekeeper
“Huuuuuuuurgghhhhhhhhh” Said me, as I coughed my filthy cock-custard into my girlfriend’s mouth.

For all her blessed gifts and multi-talents, this young lady wasn’t a swallower. She promptly yacked my muck back out all over my lap and coat as I fumble for the car keys muttering “oo-er, ermmm, wha-I wha-I, mmmf, fuck”

I sped off, wheelspinning gravel into the gamekeeper’s face with my tadger (now limply) hanging out, covered in my own spluffy man-milk and a girlfriend wondering what the blithering shagsticks was going on.

I vowed from that day forth, all future blow jobs I received would be within the safe confines of a secure bedroom.

I was lying to myself…

(Part 2 on it’s way)

Length? I don’t know how long he was stood there. But on reflection, if it had been more than 2 minutes, I should have charged the cunt. She was brill.
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 12:11, Reply)
they tried to voyeur me.. bastards.
recently bought a car, a used one, that being a subaru I proclaimed "has a bulletproof engine".

oh no, i was sadly deluded.

After a 200 mile round trip, the motor starts producing a loud clacking sound whilst travelling at speed on the motorway.

I quickly pull over, stop, try to start it again but it isnt happening. its dead.

So we call the RAC and say "its knackered, we need a tow home".

They turn up in a van, make a vague attempt to look at it, only to say "its knackered".

great, thanks for that.

SO as its only a van, all they can do is tow us off the motorway onto a side road and leave us at a layby.

and this is where the fun starts.

The layby is a nationally famous dogging spot.

So me and mrs fridge are sitting in a car with steamed up windows in a very popular dogging spot.

The first few taps on the window with suggestive looks by some sweating freak were amusing I guess.

The first few random people getting in other random cars and seeing the vehicle rock from side to side. amusing.

BUT .. it took the RAC 5 hours to get a proper truck to take us home, and 5 hours of random gurning perverts hoping we were going to be prime fwap material left me feeling dirty and abused.

we both felt raped by voyeurs.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 18:34, Reply)
i was having a piss in the downstairs loo, when i get that strange feeling that somone is watching me!
all of a sudden a 3 yr old, daughter, puts a hand underneath me and touches me balls.
when i got off the feckin ceiling..........
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 23:59, Reply)
My boyfriend, the unintentional flasher...
Back in the mists of time, I used to have a boyfriend, Mr Rakky. Lovely chap, but it was never going to work out. He was a relaxed, chilled, left wing hippy type, I’m a complete neurotic who used to work for an oil company; he liked real ale and outdoor holidays, I’m more a wine and art galleries girl. He was 5’6” and 8 stone soaking wet, I’m a strapping six footer. However, we got on brilliantly, and loved each other’s company, but the real thing that caused us problems were our nocturnal preferences. I don’t sleep well and can rarely stay in bed past six am without the help of alcohol or prescription sedatives. And that’s round about the time when he would be going to bed, for a lovely long 12-14 hours kip.

One spring, I’d had a row with my housemate and was looking for a new place to live. Mr Rakky kindly said I could stay at his, rent free, till I got myself sorted (we weren’t ready for the living together properly thing at that point). To get over the screwed up sleeping patterns thing, we fell into a routine; I would go study at the library or a friends house till 11pm, meet him for a beer (this was Scotland, where the pubs were open sensible hours..) then go home and listen to audio books till I fell asleep. After a couple of weeks it was clear that he was starting to sleep slightly more conventional hours and actually go to lectures etc.

One night he came to meet me from the library with a rather distressed look on his face. In the pub he was slightly nervy, unusual for him. Eventually after 3 pints of beer he finally told me what was wrong.

He’d fallen asleep the night before around 12 and had awoken to find me gone, as usual. He looked at the clock, half asleep to see it was only 10.30am, something of a new experience for him. He’d shambled out of bed, naked, resplendent with morning wood and had gone to the window, flung open the shutters and had one of those big “good morning world” stretches. And then heard a scream. When he looked down into the courtyard at the back of his building he saw not one, not two, but 20 very distressed five year olds looking up at him and pointing.

And a very, very angry primary school teacher.

He was nearly in tears by this point; I however, as the loving girlfriend, was crying with laughter.

A few things changed after that; he started sleeping in his pants and I bought him some net curtains, just in case.

Length? Six years. And I never let him forget it, usually by shouting, “Show her your cock” every time a small child walked past.
Happy days...
(, Sun 14 Oct 2007, 18:19, Reply)
my folks bought a camcorder
and being about 14 at the time, I decided that filming myself having a wank was the most creative use of this shiny new toy.

Now, obviously, I knew how sensitive this sort of material can be when you've got two sisters, so I thought the best place to leave the tape was in the camera.

In the cupboard.

Where everyone had access to it.

It wouldn't have been so bad, but my younger sister showed it to all of her friends who promptly told theirs and so on and so on.

12 years later and the story still comes back to me on occasion, with more and more embellishments each time. The most recent version has me fucking a teddy bear while wearing a skin tight catsuit and shouting my mother's name.

I also found photos my sister took of her vag, but being a decent sort of a bloke I have said nothing as yet.

Also, I went to school with the guy who delivers my parents' post. He said that one day while delivering to their house, he caught - through the window - a glimpse of my dad wanking into the fruit bowl.

what the fuck is wrong with my family?
(, Mon 15 Oct 2007, 1:21, 1 reply)
Doggy fashion
The most classy one I remember, ever, was one that my mate saw. He was living in a house in Stevenage with a couple of other lads. The landlord put the house on the market, but let the lads continue to live in it while he sold it.

One evening, Mr. Landlord brought someone around to view the house, and being a rude f*cker, didn't bother knocking - ever. So he's wandering about the house, showing the potential buyer, and walks into one of the lads' bedrooms.

Where said lad is vigorously and enthusiastically rogering his bird from behind. The best bit was that he didn't even miss a stroke. He bid the landlord (and the open-mouthed prospective purchaser) a cheery good evening, and started, while pumping away, pointing out the features of the room. His g/f, meanwhile, pulled a pillow over her head and otherwise didn't move.

Sheer class.
(, Sun 14 Oct 2007, 0:45, Reply)
There was this story once...
With this girl i'd be Trying to get with for around 3 years...

Eventually she gave in [or got dumped by her boyfriend] and decided it was time enough, it was all going well, if rather noisily, when a group of 5 and 6 year old kids than run past my house. Everything in our road Echos to fuck, and my window was open.
Que five minutes later:-

"This is the house mummy,"
"No son, She isnt being hurt,She was just praying loudly"
"::violent almost orgasmic screams from child:: Does god love me now mummy?"

From that day forward, i've always checked my window has been closed, and we've hardly ever spoken of it since.
(, Sun 14 Oct 2007, 0:26, Reply)
And this in from xkcd.com...

(I suppose you have to be an engineering geek like myself to really appreciate that one...)
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 13:55, 7 replies)
The Shame...
I was at one of the Glastonbury Festivals with my boyfriend, my Brother and a Girl friend, she was just a friend not attached to any of us in the biblical sense. It was one of the first 'wet' festivals, it was great but very muddy. Anyway, after a very long and wet evening we walked back to the tent, the tent was a straight four man tent, no dividers, very small, we all were a bit merry and we had a bit of a laugh with the glow in the dark things, taking the caps off and swirling them around and making star bursts across the inside of the tent, eventually we decided it was time to turn off the lights and try to get some sleep. My boyfriend was obviously feeling very horny and he kept touching me and whispering in my ear, I replied, in a very stern whisper, that we were not in the tent alone and that surely he could manage without for just one weekend but he went on and on... he said it was ok and they were both asleep...to cut a long story short he eventually talked me into having sex, he even promised to not move much and to be as quiet as a mouse. Well we had barely climaxed and replaced our clothes when my brother piped up..."so is it time for a cup of tea now?" shortly followed by our friend saying "yes please, and how about a few biscuits I'm starving" Honestly I was completely mortified... my brother had been lying less than 6" away listening to me having sex and now my boyfriend was brewing tea for everyone as if nothing had happened..... if ever there was a better excuse for *coat then I would like to see it.
(, Thu 11 Oct 2007, 19:04, Reply)
About 7 hours ago
I was walking home from college. It's about a mile's walk, down a perfectly straight road, which happens to be rather busy.

According to Google Earth, I made it to roughly 0.3 miles away from my abode when I was accosted by a black youth, demanding I hand him my possessions or "get fucking shanked".

In broad daylight. On a busy road. Some drivers were already rubbernecking.

Of course, I respectfully decline and inform him of these facts. His answer? He pulls out his "shank": one of those tiny keyring-sized swiss army knives, and then proceeds to extend its tiny blade from one end, and its scissors from the other.

At this point, I couldn't decide whether to laugh or run, but the choice was made for me, when he proceeded to tighten his fist around the knife - plunging the tiny scissors deep into his palm, and making him shriek like a raped banshee before fleeing, presumably to seek medical attention.

I'm not sure what relevance this has to the QOTW, I just thought you'd like to know of my failed mugging attempt.

Length? 58mm, apparently.
(, Sat 13 Oct 2007, 0:36, 1 reply)
I watched silently
as many sad, lonely people posted their poor attempts of erotic fiction on a website once.

Oh, Wait a minute.....
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 13:53, Reply)
this one time at uni...
my mate mark was in the next room getting a good seeing to by his rather loud lady. She would get progressively louder with each bounce and everyone in the house would listen in, there was no shame, it was a good laugh. On this occasion, i started joining in verbally on the offbeat to her on-the beat-yelps, something like

her- uh!
me - eh!

and repeat to a nice 4/4 uh! - eh! - uh! - eh!, tempo, volume and pitch rising to crescendo
when she at somepoint realises she can now hear me and her 'uh's start to alternate with laughs so now we have uh! - eh! - hee! - eh! - uh! - eh! - heeheh! until she's full on pissing herself laughing incontrollably until we hear the unmistakeable sounds of her losing her footing, falling off Mark, and hitting the floor with a thud. Everyone one in the house is laughing by then especially as we heard a rather unimpressed Mark going "oh for fucks sake".

So, voyeurism can be nice kids. Although not so much for Mark sometimes.
(, Tue 16 Oct 2007, 16:16, 1 reply)
Oh, and there's this one too...
This was also during the Basingstoke years. I can't believe I forgot this one, too!!!

I shared a house with 3 other people, two lads and one lass. One of the lads is now a very good mate of mine, the other two, well...

They were cunts of the highest order. Really rude, ignorant, and untidy. What made it worse though, was that they ended up getting it together, having it off constantly - and noisily. Now, I wouldn't have minded that really - but what really got on mine and my mate's tits was the girls insistance on playing fucking 'Out Of Reach' by Gabrielle every time she was getting a bit of Afternoon Delight. Or Night Delight. Or Morning Delight for that matter. That and the knocking noise that her paramour's headboard would make on the wall seperating his room for the living room, meaning my evening Hollyoaks ogling session was frequently interrupted.

So, I needed to have revenge. Now, the girl was from a very posh family, her dad was 'new money', mum was from landed gentry and the girl made sure you knew about it. Even better, the family was staunch Catholic, so if they found out about the girls pre-marital indiscretion, she'd be buggered - in the figurative sense, though I got the impression that she liked it the literal way anyhow.

One night, my revenge came - it was even better that I didn't even have to think it through.

'Out Of Reach' is playing, the headboard's knocking and I'm having my Elize Du Toit (Izzy with the big norks off Hollyoaks) daydream ruined, when the phone rings.

It's her mum. 'Is V******* in?'

'Yes', I reply. 'Just a second'.

Without a thought, I walk to J**'s (the boy) room, put the phone near the doorway, so that mum can get a good listen of her lovely princess getting a good rogering, kick the door open, get a full view of the girl's knockers as she's on top, say

'Phone - it's your mum'

Throw the phone in her general direction, walk back into the living room to resume my TV viewing, all the while listening to the furious row that V******* is having with her mum about what exactly was going on.

I moved out a month later, which was a shame, because that month was the best I'd had in the house.

Last I heard, he dumped her after her dad had been round to their flat with a few of his colleagues with moves towards a shotgun wedding.

I always get a warm feeling everytime I remember that now...

I am a bad, bad man!
(, Sun 14 Oct 2007, 18:09, Reply)
i was watched
picture the scene
walking the ex girlfreind home over the dunstable downs, we had both been drinking.
she got frisky and offered a bit of oral relief, at midnight i thought hell, why not!
so during the act two gay men walked past,
stopped to say, "she's doing it wrong" then proceeded to walk off discussing the perfect blow job

from hard to floppy in seconds
(, Sat 13 Oct 2007, 11:06, 3 replies)
And on a related theme
I was at a friend's house, and she was excitedly telling me about a couple who live in a house behind theirs. No curtains, they walk around naked and she has the "most amazing tits", apparently. And sure enough, as we were talking, these incredible beauties hoved into view. We all clustered round to have a look, and my friend's boyfriend produced a pair of binoculars, obivously left by the window for this very purpose. "Dave!" she shouted at him, suddenly annoyed. "What have I told you about using the binoculars? Always turn the lights off first!"
(, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 13:04, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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