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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.

whats the world coming to
im more then a little concerned that a qotw regarding insults attracts more pages of comments then a qotw regarding (mostly) one of lifes little pleasures... (even if it is about watching other people at it) would we really rather insult each other ??

length ? sorry if im being a little deep...
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 10:15, 2 replies)
“What is it, boy?” I asked in a husky whisper-shout as my loyal canine companion picked up the pace. “What do you smell?”
As he darted across the undergrowth I could see his lipstick was out. This was going to be pretty special. My legs moved, one after the other, as I leapt over rocks, vaulted over logs and shuffled through patches of fern at a breakneck pace, all the while keeping sight of my trusty dog-steed and his phallic beacon.
After what seemed like fifteen seconds, but was probably more like three months, we arrived in Alaska. My furry, wet-nosed accomplice slowed down and cocked his head to the side. It was then that I heard him speak: “Rufflin!”
“It can’t be!” I spat. “Macauley Culkin, all the way out here?”
My unbeshelled mammalian tortoise nodded solemnly. We advanced with caution through the greenery, taking care not to step on twigs and cats.
Before long we arrived at a clearing in the middle of which there was a log. Standing facing the log, as promised by my flightless, long-eared eaglehound, was the boy Culkin. His hands were clasped against his face and he was yelling at a wretched figure that was sitting hunched on the log. I opened my mouth to cry out “Damilola!” but stopped myself instantly as I realised it was Gary Coleman. Coleman was clearly distressed. Tears rolled down his bulbous brown cheeks, like urea seeping its way over a brace of ripened peaches.
“Do it!” Culkin screamed, and Coleman slapped his hands up to his own cheeks with a whimper. I lowered myself into the ferns. Culkin was clearly enraged and the last thing I wanted was to fall victim to his fury. I once watched him thwart two city gents using only common household items; I was no match for him. I pulled my beloved beaglehorse close to me and held his lipstick between thumb and forefinger. The time was almost upon us.
“You’re doing it wrong, man!” squawked Culkin, and almost knocked Coleman off his log with the force of his voice alone. “Try again!”
Coleman leapt from the log and made a dash in my direction. Culkin gave chase, and for a moment I was reminded of Time Bandits. However, Culkin soon wrestled Coleman to the leafy floor and my erection subsided. I could see the saliva on Culkin’s lips as he lay atop Coleman, who himself was face down in the slowly decomposing detritus that covered the forest floor. There was a scent of strawberries as Culkin unzipped his jeans. He caressed the Bros patch his mother had lovingly sewn to the pocket, and this caused him to breathe heavily and erratically. Coleman began weeping in earnest, nay, wailing. His voice, surprisingly deep for a kiddychap of his modest size, echoed throughout the canopy above. My trusty muttbrethren threw his head back to howl in agreement, but I was quick to clamp my hand around his bitter snout. He gave me a look that said, “I love you, my master, and I should very much like to sit in this position for some time.”
We sat like that for some time, while Coleman wailed, howled and hooted and Culkin panted in some kind of guttural symphony as if created by a swarm of buzzards made entirely from neck fat. When the din eventually faded to silence, I had the courage to step out and reveal myself. There was much rejoicing from all parties. We like it in Alaska. We find the lack of concrete reassuring and have no plans to return. Culkin sometimes has violent episodes. He once attacked me with a travel iron, and I do tire of his ceaseless booby trap construction, but by and large we are happy. Coleman often speaks of the time Muhammed Ali mistook him for a child, and we’ll laugh, and then the laughter will give way to tears and vomit.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 10:11, 2 replies)
Voyeurism in the Workplace
I am an unwitting voyeur.

I work in a hairdressing salon in the fashionable part of Bloomsbury, with around 5 other stylists.

We recently took on a young trainee called Roberto. I think his name is really Robert, as he's pasty white and from Catford, but he puts a latino inflection on it to add glamour and mystery.

Roberto is camp, so camp, it could be said, that he rides his moped to work sidesaddle.

He has taken a shine to me and it is for this reason that I am put in the unfortunate position of voyeur to his shennanigans.

Roberto drops things inches from my booth. He will bend over with straight legs and his tight denim clad arse inches from my face in an attempt to lure me.

He caresses his pecs when he is on the phone to customers and is deliberately looking in my direction.

He makes coffee for all the staff, and only I get a marshmallow in mine (at least I hope to god it's a marshmallow).

When he eats his kit-kat at coffee break, he practically fellates the bloody thing whilst looking at me with a come hither gaze.

I dread the moment he walks into the salon stark nekkid, turns around and slowly pulls his buttocks apart to reveal a poorly wiped anus.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 9:43, 2 replies)
Bikers, students, pubs...enforced voyeurism?
on a rare visit to Pompey, i went into an old bikers pub and by accident met Foz for the 1st time in 15yrs, we got to necking ale & reminiscing when we were rudely interrupted by 'Freshers on a pub crawl' all drinking halves and gen. being up emselves at their lifes good fortune.
they asked Foz and me to take a pic of them and teh pub as evidence of 'beer' being drunk, so as they toddle off outside, foz drops his pants I photograph his hairy arse and winding on we troop out take the required photo and they then ponce off to the next 'quaint locals hostelry'

on topic: we I guess forced them to see something they didn't wanna.....
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 9:40, 1 reply)
He likes to watch...
So, about 9 years ago, me and the Mrs split up and I was a little lonely, staying at the parent house. This was when dial up internet was first starting to have subscription free ISPs, I used one of the first X-stream (dunno if they still exist!)
Anyway they had thier own chat room and I used to frequent them on a regular basis. One night I got chatting to a woman who I won't name because I am pretty sure she reads these boards, so I'll call her J :D
She was married but seemed unhappy, but, while I liked her (and she was hot too, I'd seen photos and yes, they were up to date as I found out later..) I didn't believe anything would come of it.
A couple of months go by and she invites me up to see her, now I knew her hubby was going to be around, so I figured no sexytime would be happening. How wrong I was!
Anyway to cut this story shorter, I stayed a few days, but on the last night we had a little party, J, her hubby, and 2 of J's friends. Much Vodka and beer was drunk, J's friends went home, I passed out on the sofa, J and hubby well, I dunno I was passed out.
I was woken up later by J, grabbing my hand and pushing it between her legs saying 'Look what you've done to me'
So umm, yeah things happened, i was merrily boffing away at her, when I looked to my laft to see the sillouhette of her hubby in the doorway watching.
Didn't put me off my stride but I did whisper to J 'Someone's watching us!'
She said 'Don't worry about it'
Being drunk as I was, I sort of shrugged and carried on.
When the job was finished she left, I passed out again (haha, wayyy too much to drink, I'm amazed I could perform :p)
Next morning she explained that she'd wanted to do it, but the only way she'd have gotten a chancwe was for hubby to watch.
So I felt kinda used, but hey, it was a great shag, even if I was being used as voyeur material so a guy could watch his wife do it with another man.

Would I do it again? Hmm, maybe if I was drunk, don't think I would do that sober...
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 9:29, Reply)
Room with a View
On the High St in Lincoln (1990 I do beleive) me and some mates were having a bit of a sesh and was waiting outside Boots as one of our posse had gone in to buy something. Anyhoo, next door to Boots was a womens clothing outlet, I just happened to gaze upwards (no particualr reason) and lo and behold there was the changing rooms on the 1st floor, complete with a person of the female persuasion getting changed. We all waited until she had got undressed, dressed and undressed when we started the clapping and cries of "Well done" and general whopping that you would expect from a gang of newly recruited squaddies. She put her hands around her ample busom, went crimson and with a wry smile disappered from view, we also quickly legged it just incase the rozzers were called....
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 8:33, Reply)
My dog
When my parents were on vacation, they wanted me to look after their dog. I was living on my own near the university so I brought him to visit my place during the day. My girlfriend of the time came over, and we got busy on the couch, covered by a blanket. My dog, choosing to respect our privacy, left the room. But then I noticed him in the next room, sitting on the bed where he could get a good view of us.

Afterward, he came over to me and stayed at my feet the rest of the day. He seemed really impressed.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 7:29, Reply)
This one time.... at a party house..
I hit it off with a girl. We kissed, made out a bit and in the kitchen I put her up on the counter and fingered her out. While other people were watching/wandering through said party.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 4:59, Reply)
late entry...
No illusions of making the front page for this one, but just need to get it off my chest.

When I was working in Ye Olde London earlier this year, the time came for my review.

Boss was (and still is) a great bloke, so we retired to the pub down the road. Southwark Tavern, if you must know. Those of you that know this wonderful establishment, will be familiar with the vaults downstairs where you can sit in the little cubicles and have a quiet bevvy.

We proceeded to do this, and go through my role and responsibilities and feedback on my peformance etc, etc.

Now, while the vaults are self contained and pretty private, there are windows between some of them, which means you still have to whisper on Quiz night.

Anyway, early in my review I happened to glance over my bosses shoulder, through the window, and low and behold, what do I see?

A couple having a bit of a romp in the next vault.

I didn't see any minges or cocks flying around, so this is pretty tame by this QOTW's respones.

But can you imagine trying to hold a serious conversation about your career while some skank in a denim skirt is bouncing up and down on a grinning loon's todger, all this appearing to happen ON your bosses shoulder?

After a few minutes the boss noticed that I was somewhat distracted, looked over his shoulder and offered to delay the more serious aspects of our chat until the loon had had his fill, so to speak. Respect.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 3:03, Reply)
Just remembered this one.
many yrs ago with a nice older female redhead i was having an affair with, (fucked like a rabbit).
she decide to try the open air at night (it was a hot summer).
so we got down to it on the grass on open heathland on the army ranges in the surrey/hampshire borders.
as we were going at some speed, a helicopter hovered over us, im sure the bastard had night goggles on.
bet every aircrew in the air corp has seen a video of my arse now.
(, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 2:37, Reply)
dragging this one out of the suppressed memory vaults
i am also representing a friend's gallery at an art fair tonight. tapping away at my laptop i am trying to look busy and important as i write this, but half the pompous bastards can walk behind me and read it and it's for your eyes only.

so a few months ago i went on holiday with some friends. as you do, we kept bumping into the same people, and we ended up spending most nights drinking with our new friends. which had nothing to do with the fact that this particular group contained some of the hottest finnish eye candy i have ever seen in my life. is there such a thing as an unattractive finn?

well, there is at least one, as you will see if you stick with me, but he is a tiny minority.

we met the boys on the first night because i was propositioned at the bar by the token swamp donkey, a 6'8 streak of piss with a wispy ponytail and a bald head. he was not a promising start, but when his mates came over, we were swayed.

the minger's cousin in particular was absolutely divine, with the bluest eyes and the whitest teeth and the most tousled blond hair you've ever seen. he also had an amazing arse and abs you could slice bread on. we flirted like mad all week, and in the end i went back to his on the last night.

i'm usually an 8 date kind of girl, but this guy was so cute and i was so drunk that i thought there was no harm in a bit of what my friend called "rumpy but no pumpy". after a bit of a tussle with the lock, we fell in through his bedroom door and onto the bed.

at first it was lovely, he knew what to say and what to do, and i was considering shaving a few dates off the minimum (like 7), but gradually i became aware of a rhythmic creaking in the corner of the room. i tried to sit up but finnishboy had his hands up my top and he wasn't letting go. i strained my eyes over his (tanned muscular) shoulder. couldn't see anything in the gloom. relaxed.

and then, just as things were getting more interesting, i heard it. slightly laboured, quickening breathing. coming from the wardrobe. i screamed and covered the DDs with my hands. finnishboy groaned and rolled off me, asking what the matter was. i pointed at the wardrobe with a shaking hand, clutching the duvet to me.

finnishboy got off the bed and calmly opened the wardrobe door. we both stared in what i assumed was shock and horror at his skinny lanky cousin bent double in the wardrobe.

some rapidfire and rather guttural finnish ensured, during which i assumed my boy was threatening to cut off his cousin's head and rape his oesophagus. but no.

instead, he turned to me, shrugged, and said with a horrible calm, "he is sorry you saw him, but he wants to know if he can join in."

who the FUCK wants to do that with their own cousin?? for god's sake. obviously i told them both to fuck the fuck off, at which point finnishboy shrugged and said,

"in that case, he says.... can he just watch?"

length? about 6'8 of lanky streaky finnish inbred incestuous piss. girth? didn't hang around to find out!
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 22:07, 4 replies)
It's all a bit wrong
I and my nephew (2 years younger than me. Don't ask) were out getting wankered in a very grotty dive in Great Yarmouth, it was an underground smokey den called 'The Crypt' and as you can imagine it was full of goths and other people with severe personality disorders (us included), anywhoo they used to do a deal whereupon it was only £1 a shot of tequila, my nephew and I are exceptionally competitive and decided to have a tequila race. £20 was placed upon the bar and we managed to drink 10 shots each. We were feeling really quite rough at this point and decided to wile away the night by leaping around like loons.

As we were being twunts, I noticed a girl who I vaguely knew because my Dad knew her Dad etc. She was pretty rough to be honest and she had brought along an equally rough mate. Me and the nephew shrugged our shoulders and decided to try our luck.

So we are back at her place with her friend cosying up to me and my nephew necking with the family "friend" it turns out there was only one bed in her place and she said it would be fun for us all to share it.

It wasn't, I started to feel really unwell and managed to throw up all over my squeeze and myself. We had to wash ourselves up, so after we'd cleaned up we decided to go watch what was going on in the other room. Cue my nephew and our old family friend humping away with us two cheering him on.........In retrospect I think there is something wrong with me.

Length.........it's my nephew, I've already seen far too much.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 21:32, Reply)
Well, you would.
Being on a fine art degree course, you get pretty used to seeing all sorts of crazy shit about the uni building, photos of your naked classmates, big plaster cocks, etc. and to be fair, we are actually meant to look at this stuff so its not that weird or anything. But a girl in a studio I share has a few photos of a naked buff-looking guy, most likely her boyfriend, only to protect his modesty (or so as not to offend us... unlikely) she has pinned the pics up covering up his crotchal regions... naturally we all (read: only me) lifted up the corner of a photo to have a peek at this ubermench's wang. When relating this story to my boyfriend, I went out of my way to sound a bit less like I was looking at some other dude's junk, when he said "Yeah, I looked too..."
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 21:09, Reply)
I once walked through the streets of Winchester wearing only a sock over my cock. It was night-time and I wasn't alone, my fellow brethren of the pub joined me in this quest from the Old Vine (now changed name) to Sparsholt in the cuntry - one wearing but a sock too, one fully naked, another in the y's, and the final fellow, Jon, who looked like a walking clothes shop - swaying under the weight.

Several people whistled, others jeered, and one car sped away when I jumped out from a bush sounding tarzan jungle-cry and minus sock.

There was nothing accidental about it. Under the influence of several tequilas anyway.

Size? It's massive, I swear!
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 18:35, Reply)
I often stare out the window watching the world go by. Is that voyeurism or just being a sad cunt.

*I can't believe I opened myself up to the abuse that will inevitably follow*
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 18:13, 4 replies)
This is about penetration of a different sort
I used to work in a multi-storey car park and one of the security cameras took in a view of the decayed scrubland behind one of the walls. We'd sit in the security room and watch junkies shooting up from the stash they sometimes left under a few bricks. The cops were called eventually and they were booked (the one's that couldn't run anyway), the gear removed by the cops as 'evidence' I'm sure.

Later that day some more sunken-eyed folk arrived at the same spot desperately looking for the stash, which was gone. Poor bastards looked so forlorn searching for their 'herrrdinin'* . Watching all this on security TV makes one feel rather like a god.

*dublin speak for heroin.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 16:51, Reply)
Voyeurism - what a laugh!!!!
Lets be honest here people....if we see a couple at it then of course we're gonna take a sneaky peek whether for the porpose of wank bank material or so you can just point and laugh at the "offenders".

My story is the latter.

While in the states on a J1 visa, (student working/holiday visa) there was about twenty of us living in an absolute shitbin of a house in Boston. It was fan-fuckin-tastic. Drunk every night, Parties galore, and easy easy Ladies for company - the Irish accent is a ladykiller is the states - anyway, one of the lads wasn't the most experienced, he's a really good guy but he's an ugly bastard. He pulled an absolute munter while on the lash one night, and he was delighted with himself. One thing led to another and they headed back to the house to get down to business before the rest of us got back.

We decided to give them some space ie. about 5mins and SAS stealth style we make our back, cameras at the ready......what a shower of cnuts we are.

When we got back we could hear that our buddy was very enthusiastic, grunting away to his hearts content. Never have I witnessed a faster moving arse.She on the other hand was trying to calm him down saying things like "deeper , not faster" and "oh your done".

That was our que, in we burst into the room to get the greatest photos ever taken.

8yrs later and he still doesn't think it was funny.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 16:40, 2 replies)
When I was a callow youth, I was seeing a girl a long way away. Now, said girl already had a boyfriend who also lived a long way away. As far as her strict, religious (but very sweet) mother and her (non-religious) older sister were concerned we were "just friends". Despite the fact that any being with eyes could see there was something going on between us.

One weekend, I'd gone down to see her and we had the bungalow to ourselves, so being young and horny we decided to get down and do the wild thing.

Now, this bungalow was laid out such that all the rooms were off a main square "hall". So, as you walked in the back door into the kitchen you could see into two of the bedrooms. Now my "friend" wasn't exactly what you call quiet, so there I am taking her from behind with her screaming "Fuck me! Fuck me harder!" when who should stroll into the kitchen but her sister. As she did so, she copped an eyeful of me dumping a load of DV's finest vintage all over her sister's back. Cue much embarrassment all round.

Fast forward 14 years, and we catch up again after losing touch. Met up with said girl (and her husband) and her sister, who has absolutely no recollection of the event and still often says "It's great that you're still friends after all these years. How come you two never got together?"
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 16:02, 2 replies)
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)
The Horror...
When I was 16 I worked at a book store. one day I was watching the security cameras for the boss, who was, and saw a 13-14 year old ginger kid wanking to a magazine...a pregnancy magazine
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:55, 1 reply)
Surprising ex
When my ex and I first got together she arranged a dirty weekend down in Cardiff in a nice posh hotel’s honeymoon suite. To say the suite was impressive was a definite understatement and to say that we made full use of it also would be.
Upon our first nights stay there we had been happily getting down to business until the early hours of the morning when we heard a couple arrive next door, there was an adjoining door to the suite you see, and what we now noticed was that we could hear a lot of what was going on in the other room, of course we didn’t think for a second that they could hear us did we!
We had completely forgotten about our new neighbours by the next morning, so soon after waking we started going at it yet again, and very loudly this time...halfway through doing the ex doggystyle we hear a thump against the adjoining door, my ex jumps away from me clutching at the covers in an attempt to hide her modesty, of course no-one was actually coming through the door though; it was locked. We could however now see the distinct shadow of a person underneath the door jam and when I got down on the floor and looked under I could see two sets of feet next to the door!
I gestured to my ex that they were right by the door, and then immediately thought ‘great this is gonna put her right off carrying on now’, did it balls, in one of the few times that my ex genuinely surprised me she cheekily grinned at me and then proceeded to climb on top of me and go at it harder and more importantly louder than before, giving our new neighbours no real choice, but to listen!
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:42, Reply)
During a short spell at HMP (for ecstacy) and being a committed (pun!) Hardcore Raver I slipped into the following routine. Every Friday night there would be a dance music mix on radio 1 which lasted an hour or so until Westwood would come on and ruin it (I couldn't get any better music channels as I was in the middle of nowhere). To celebrate the weekend, get a mild arenaline rush and to keep fit in the confined space I used to have some extremely strong, sugary coffee, do a quick workout - pressups, squats, bench presses with the bed, chin ups on the ledge above the window, and dance like a loon to the latest hi energy dance tune (it was '95) to my reflection in the window. Having worked in a strip club (not as a stripper) I may have picked up some somewhat dodgy moves. Anyway - I am absolutely flying when my focus shifts from my reflection and I noticed a senior screw (prison officer) looking in from the other side of the window (I was on the ground floor). When our eyes made contact a look passed between us that said "Let us never speak of this again" and he continued his rounds. I think he was more embarrased than me and I got no trouble off the screws thereafter. I was able to get away with murder (not literally).

The other voyeur memory from this period apart for acquiring a hefty porn habit is gazing out through the bars on a balmy Spring evening watching rabbits fuck like ... on the other side of the fence. Probably payback for all the times I shagged my lady in full view of my sister's caged bunny. Isn't it ironic .. don't you think?

And no - I am not gay and never got bummed!
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:29, 1 reply)
Early summer waiting for my boyf after work in Leicester Square, smoking a fag. Two transients are lying on the grass in said square, fucking.
Full on, military tramp sex on display for anyone who fancied a peek. A scabby fanny and unwashed cock.
It's not even like you could say get a room....
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:24, Reply)
Fingers and bums
whilst enjoying a free Xmas party at work, i couldnt help but notice the "old Crow" of our workplace ask the head of operations for a dance, nothing wrong with that i suppose..... however letting him grope your buttocks may be acceptable to some women out there, he then proceded to poke his finger up her poo shoot!

what did she do?

cock all! jesus

still wake in the middle of the night sweating with the picture of them both embedded in my mind.

Pooflake, i hear you may have touched on this before in a preivious thread...

alls well that ends well i suppose he's sacked and shes in the corner of the office now praying quietly no one ever mentions what happened.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:16, 1 reply)
Close Encounters.....
As an early-twentysomething, I dated a nurse. A very passionate girl, who took it up the arse when the painters were in.

That aside, we were once in the middle of some very passionate snogging in a dark recess of the Hospital Employee's sports and social club, when I had the distinct impression we were being watched.

I pulled away from her for the briefest of seconds, and turned my head to the left, to be confronted by the face of a complete stranger, about two inches from our faces.

He wasnt fiddling with himself or anything, merely looking on in quiet contemplation.

I later found out he worked in the mortuary. I can only suppose he wanted to know if kissing a live person was a similar experience to kissing a corpse.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 15:03, Reply)
That reminds me
2 experiences:

On the beach, there's a German couple lying sunbathing. The man puts his hand on the girl's arse, then starts massaging her arse cheeks, eventually moving his hand up her crack. Maybe not too unusual (she had a very nice arse) but they were lying right by the main entrance on to the beach so loads of people walking past all the time.

And in a bar one evening a couple walk in, sit up at the bar in view of everyone, and start snogging. Soon his hand goes up her top and he starts groping her. Never worked out if they were doing it on purpose or just unaware of how visible they were. Probably the first.
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 14:40, Reply)
Monday, 8:30
I once lived in a large Council block in London, just like the once on the front cover of that Streets albumn if anyone needs to imagine it.

Anyway, across the road from our 5th floor flat we could look into the windows of quite a few others. The usual stuff, arguments, people watching TV in their pants. Then one day, Monday, at 8:30 a man waalks up to his window holding his member and polishing it vigourously, he runs round the room doing this for half an hour, finishes himself off, then pulls out a guitar and starts playing it, my flatmate noticed this happen again the next week, infact every monday at 8:30 he would do this. Then one monday my flatmate starts screaming with laughter and calls over 'jesus look at this' the guy had only gone bought himself an inflatable friend and was now giving it the most severe shagging I have ever seen anything get. We never saw him with it again and suspect that he might have fucked it to death on the first go..
(, Wed 17 Oct 2007, 14:25, 1 reply)

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