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.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 12 Oct 2007, 12:11, Reply)