Like a racehorse, I tell you
I was working on a mate's computer in his office in Cambridge, once. The computer in question was at a desk that looked out of a ground-floor window onto the little gravel parking space behind the building.

Working away, I was, when a very ginger and quite odd-looking lady in a large denim skirt walked furtively into the parking area. Looking around and unaccountably failing to see the BLOODY GREAT and slightly open WINDOW right behind her, she backed up to said window, whisked her skirt up around her waist, bent forward to reveal a fluffy, very ginger and knickerless foo-foo, and let loose with a truly impressive gout of steaming yellow piss. About four feet from where I was sat.

I just couldn't tear my eyes away. When she was done, she bent her knees and parted her legs just a little more and gave the whole area a shake, with an accompanying comedy fart. She dropped her skirt and strode authoritatively out of the car park, leaving me slack-jawed. I leaned forward and pulled the window shut, as the stench started to drift into the office.
(lustfish, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 19:15, 1 reply)

Her name's Bubbles, darling
Bubbles de Vere

A most chucklesome tale and a hearty click from me.
( chart cat has an itch, Sat 13 Oct 2007, 16:21, closed)