Pedal
Did you hear about the guy with three dicks?

He was wanking left, right and centre.

Sorry.
(Smell eep!, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 15:06, Reply)

John West
When I was in sixth form, there was a chap nicknamed 'John West' cos he got caught smearing fish paste on his german helmet and was letting the cat lick it off.

Click here for seamless Wesley Crusher fwap action

Hmmm. I notice Rob doesn't have a personal tale to tell this time...;)
( Smallbrainfield, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 15:04, Reply)

flat share
Feeling the urge I ran home to my flat, which I shared with 2 other guys. One had his posh parents visiting. They liked the nice boy image i projected whenever they were around, and so i had to delay my self love for exchanging 'how do you do's. At the earliest but politest opportunity I took my leave and laid out all my magazines on my bed at their best pages. A couple of minutes later my other flatmate burst in wanting to borrow something. From my position behind the bed he couldn't see what i was doing, but the magazines on the bed were a clear give away. He didn't get it, so I had to resort to saying "Sorry, Wayne, but I'm having a wank". He still didn't get it. I ended up shouting 'NOT NOW, I'M HAVING A WANK!'

This time he got it. He replied "Oh yes...so you are" and left the room. When I came out smiling a few minutes later it was quite clear from the pained faces of my friend's parents that they got what I was doing too.
(bloodydoorsoff, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:59, Reply)

an old school friend,
whos friendship i ended many yeas ago, who used to live down the street from me invited a few of us round at lunch time on occasion to watch his brothers porn collection, to which he on occasion would jack off to in front of us, then spilling his seed on the living room carpet and letting his dog in to lick up the offending mess.

needless to say i never let his dog lick my face ever again after i witnessed this.
( Thor_sonofodin has done things, terrible things on, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:54, Reply)

when I were aboot 14
I was prolific in the art of hand to gland combat.
I lived about a mile or so from the nearest village and was wandering along a country lane (I have no idea why) spanking the monkey. Cue next door neighbour driving along this usually abandoned little road. I whipped me jumper down over my little fella, and carried on walking. Only they stopped to offer me a lift, as I was still 3/4 of a mile from home. Thankfully I managed to persuade them that I was enjoying the walk, even though it was slightly drizzling.

when I was about 12 I was a lot more innocent, and me mates dared me to tell this girl I got a "boner" every time I thought about her. Not having a clue what that meant, I did. She never spoke to me again. funny that!
(teasus likes tea, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:50, Reply)

The joys of computers
My computer recently crashed or something and hid all the files (dont ask cos i dont hav a clue). The trusty pc now works again so i went into windows media player to retrieve my files via the file search. Sadly it did not recognise my realplayer files, but it did recognise a rather large collection of "video files" belonging to my older brother. He seems to be a fan of Alyssa Milano, and FATAL ACCIDENT VIDEOS. I was scared of him before, but now...
(Graz Da Frog, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:44, Reply)

not me...
a girl on my course was sitting in the main computer room on campus a couple of weeks ago. Next to her sat a chap (think he was member of the large oriental contingent that populate Warwick Uni campus) who was quite openly viewing websites of the nudey lady variety. Quite openly viewing websites of the nudey lady variety and playing. With himself.
She sat very quietly looking straight ahead and didnt say a thing. At all. There were so many other people there that it's not even as though he hadn't noticed. The computers are a foot apart!
(It's nice to know there is something that'll make her quiet actually....she's a loud one).
Have others (not of me...you aint gettin them), but i can't recall and have to 'revise' now.
fwap
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:44, Reply)

mmmm melons
Not me but a friend ... *ahem* ... once told of a trick he used to use including a small melon (canteloupe?) microwaved to 37°C with a hole punched in it....
He learnt the virtue of patience oneday after microwaving the melon at full biff, and in his eagerness for the hilt-deep gratification moment, finding a 100°C hot-spot in the middle.
He now despenses this advice.... Microwave your melons slowly to ensure a well balanced temperature spread.
And don't use Watermelons. a) the pips hurt, and b) when the buggers boil inside, the resulting blow-out destroys your Matsui.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:30, Reply)

Mother-in-Law Horror
My wife's mother helped us move out of our apartment and into our very first house. We were new parents, so my wife was busy taking care of our baby. Thus mom-in-law went around with me and helped carry the bigger stuff. (Thankfully, what I'm about to describe happened before two of my best friends showed up to help, or else I'd still be crawled under my rock to this very day.)

The spare bedroom of the apartment was my office. It had enough space for a twin-sized bed along one wall, and in some sort of fatal miswiring of my brain I had completely forgotten that my entire stash of porn was hidden beneath it. Mother-in-law grabs one end of the mattress, I grab the other, and we lift and carry it out. Neither of us noticed a thing because the box springs were still on the frame. We come back and take the box springs next, and there's three stacks of quality glossy skin mags, over a dozen well-used videotapes in their cases (very vividly and explicitly designed, of course), plus a little treasure-trove of Polaroids in a shoebox--pictures my wife had generously volunteered to contribute.

Problem is, I was backing out and the box springs completely shielded my view of what had been revealed beneath them. My mother-in-law, though, had to step directly over it all in order to proceed toward the door. Upon returning to that room for the frame, I cluelessly decided to take a rest and grab a drink from the fridge. Mom-in-law, meanwhile, zipped right back there without a word. I find her about five minutes later, sitting in my cheap little desk chair, turning the case for "Rocco Goes to Prague" over and over in her hands. No expression on her face. Polaroids of her naked and very enthusiastic daughter are laid up and down each thigh in two neat little cascading rows. She'd looked at each and every one.

As luck would have it--if you could call it that--I had entered the room noiselessly. So in effect I snuck up on her and "caught her" gawking at my stash. She was startled and jerked in surprise. All the Polaroids went sliding away off the tops of her thighs, and she actually made a motion like she was going to hide the videotape behind her back; but then she gathered herself and just calmly set it on the floor in front of her and began to politely pick up the naked pictures of her little girl and stack them back inside the shoebox. "Sorry," she mutters. Her face goes from red to purple.

What could I say? How could I even continue to live, for that matter? But, somehow, my voice sort of croaked out this lame little response: "Well, um, thanks for your help." And I turned and walked back out, sat at the kitchen table, and waited for the worst. But you know what? Next thing I heard was some innocuous "goo-goo-ga-ga" baby talk of mother-in-law's; she'd gone into the master bedroom with my wife to oooh and ahhh at the baby. And she stayed in there for a good long time, giving me the chance to box up all my porn and get it safely into the moving van. And we went back to working together a little while later like nothing had happened at all.

She never told, God bless her.

But I rather quickly (sad to say) discovered that the entire set of porn was effectively useless from that point forward, because my mother-in-law's presence was overpowering in my traumatized mind every time I tried to get out one of those mags or play a tape. And so the Polaroids went in a thick envelope in the back of my sock drawer, and the rest of it got dumped. Happy ending -- I got to start acquiring new stuff, and that coincided nicely with our first ever Internet account, so you can imagine how quickly I was able to ease my pain over losing so much lovingly-collected porn.

But of course, even to this day, I stilll can't look her straight in the eye.
(tookishlad, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:13, Reply)

Toss pot
I used to work for an IT company. One afternoon, our temperamental server decided to crash, so we all went down the pub for the rest of the day, leaving the boss to hold the fort and wait in for his brother-in-law (a computer engineer) to come in and fix the server. Once the engineer had arrived, the boss joined us at the pub where we all drank the night away in wild abandon.

By about 9pm, most of us - myself included - had left the pub so our boss went back to the office to lock up, only to find the engineer had got bored of waiting for Windows NT to reinstall, and taken himself over to an internet PC where he stood - trousers round his ankles - knocking one out over a porn site. He's never lived it down to this day, to the best of my knowledge.
(colourzoom, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:12, Reply)

My old boss lent me a European hard core porno when I was 14
I didn't sleep all night and must have been in the "Zone" all these athletes talk about because I managed to get through the pain barrier of wearing most of the skin off my knob
(NO_I'M_BRIAN_BLESSED, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:06, Reply)

Back when I was younger
This was just before I had started wanking so I must have been pretty young but i knew what it was and I was the right age to be embarrassed by it. My Gran, in front of my Mum and Dad, asked me what wanking was... she'd heard the word on telly. My Mum told her it was another word for masturbation which she seemed content with. She then said to me 'Does that irritate your hand?'. I turned bright red, my Mum and Dad laughed their asses off and after a confused look my Gran piped up, 'I meant the bandage' - in all the excitement I had forgotten I had a sprained wrist from Basketball... she wasn't even senile.
(Chom, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:03, Reply)

At boarding school
some bloke was having a shuffle, and ended up bursting a blood vessel in his bell-end. He then had to run all the way up to the nurses office (at about 1 in the morning) dressed in nothing but a dressing gown and a large beach towel wrapped around his nob, which was drenched with blood. However, he was a fairly short bloke, and he lost quite a lot of blood, so while he was waiting for the nurse to get dressed and come to the door, he fainted on the doorstep.

Cue the nurse opening the door to find an unconscious student wearing only a dressing gown and clutching a towel soaked with blood, with his mangled, bloody cock staring her in the face.
(chewbakayoko, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 14:02, Reply)

want a tip?
going to a boarding school and being in a room with a complete gaylord...sucks ass! he slept naked and got me in trouble by putting his clothes down the side of my bedand to shut him up most nights i ran in to the main room half naked(bottom half)and clapping three times then going to sleep.there was also a guy in the room next to me with a ballsack going down to his knee who constantly wanked(we knew this by looking through the small hole in the wall.oh and a kid i call sneaky-poo (wonder why) who got moved to the girls cottage in a seperate room for running to the beach connected to the school and fwapping away...the next thing we did was fishing.
(That guy with a hat., Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:58, Reply)

I've been in the reading bay in John Ryland's library in Manchester University
:|


edit/ i don't mean i've wanked in it, i'm refering to an older post where he says he's wanked in John Ryland's.
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:53, Reply)

Masturbatory Mishaps
This isn't actually a story of getting caught doing a bit of self-gratification, but it has the same result. Last summer, I went on holidays with my parents. We stayed at B&Bs most of the time. Well, there was this one B&B that had an impressive collection of magazines for the guests to read. They were stacked on a table in the middle of the corridor outside the entrances to all of the guest rooms. While we were standing outside our rooms waiting for the owner to give us the keys to the rooms, my Dad was having a look through the magazines, probably looking for Practical Boat Owner. Suddenly, I noticed that he stopped flicking through the magazines, so I had a look, and I spotted what looked suspiciously like the cover of a men's mag. I kept that in mind until late that night. Later that night, I crept out of bed to have a peek at the magazines. Sure enough, it was a copy of FHM. Unfortunately, my brother had a bed in the same room as me, so I had a fair amount of trouble getting the magazine home. I had cleverly (Or so I thought) hidden it curled up inside a fleece. Not long after leaving on the journey home, we stopped to visit some public gardens, and the wind was blowing. Er, my Mum was a bit cold, and miraculously asked me if she could wear the exact fleece that I had been using to hide the magazine. "Buggeration on it all!", I thought to myself, panicking and very quickly turning red. I quickly made something up about me not wanting her wearing my clothing. The narrowest of escapes, and if I had been caught, I'd have never heard the end of it. I was a bit paranoid for the rest of the trip home.

That was a bit drawn-out, I'll make this one short. About a fortnight of deprival, Miss World Competition, empty room, 14. Brother enters room. Quick use of hoodie to cover offending article followed by folded-arms used to hide any hints of what was going on. Embarrassment, but avoided catastrophe.
(Banjo-Fella, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:52, Reply)

Must ...resist ...this ...thread. Dammit, can't do it.
One notable incident:

Mag out on my desk as a 15 year old kid giving it the old heave ho when my Dad walks in without knocking.

Fortunately I managed to throw the mag behind my desk and pull my t-shirt over my bits in time - incredible reactions caused by a surge of adrenaline.

Unfortunately I had started to ejaculate. Either he's a very cool dad and didn't mention anything, or he just didn't notice it, but he started to engage me in conversation. You know that face you can't help pulling as you spume? He must have known...

I've got some good locations under my belt as well:
- In a packed dormitory when I was a cadet.
- On someone's doorstep before I posted their copy of the Sun as a paperboy
- In one of the reading bays on floor 2 of the John Rylands library at Manchester University.

An illustrious career I believe.
( ZoomZoom, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:48, Reply)

at school
there was a kid called Ben who had special needs and would always have an assistant sit next to him. Pretty much every IT lesson we would hear the assistant telling him 'not to go on those naughty sites' and had to keep closing his internet.

One day the opportunity arose that his usual assistant wasn't available and no replacement could be found. So mid-lesson we hear a few gasps and Ben is frantically fwapping away to some teen site. The teacher shouts and goes running to the other side of the room, but its too late and he chubs all over his hand and keyboard. I've never seen a kid so happy, he turned around with a huge fucking grin clapping to himself, and when he gets shouted at just looks at the teacher in complete amazement, as if he's done nothing wrong.

I've never laughed so hard in my life
(mrmonkfish yolo420weedwizard, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:47, Reply)

Reply to maddave
I never thanked you for giving me directions to the park.

Cheers mate.
(Market Man, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:46, Reply)

my brothers
mate had a stuffed parrot teddy that he evidently employed as chief wank mopper upper. A girl-friend of theirs visited one day, and turned around giggling and squealing, rubbing the toy on her face 'ooooh, it's fur's all spikey!'
Shudder.
(ell, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:46, Reply)

Hey maddave!
The Candyman in waders who haunts my dreams could have been directed to the public park by you and your mate.
I owe you a fat lip.
(skimmer, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:39, Reply)

I actually got caught NOT having a wank...
My mother is disabled due to tremendous problems with her legs. Many years ago, when I was a lad of 17, she could still walk but regularly popped sleeping tablets at night so she could sleep through the pain. The only problem was that they took a great deal fo time to kick in and basically sent her tripping while they took effect. I used to work regular late shifts at the local video rental place and would frequently hear her stomping about the place after I got home, trying to have a conversation with the dog or something whilst the tablets took effect.

One evening I'm sitting quietly in my room, still in full uniform from work, having a game of Dungeon Keeper II on my PC before going to bed. Suddenly my bedroom door flies open and in stomps mother branding a fluffy clean towel.

"Will you please stop wanking into towels?!!" she says, stoned out of her gourd. I blinked in surprise. Possibly I didn't hear her correctly.
"I'm sorry?" I asked.
"We've got perfectly good tissue paper in the bathroom! Use that instead!" she says, giggling like a halfwit.
"Mother," I said in the self-righteous tone I was prone to using when irritated, "I assure you that I have not been wanking into towels. Besides, that one is clean as a whistle. I suspect you've just grabbed it from the airing cupboard."
"No, you've been using it for your self-abuse!"
"Uh-huh." I replied. "Good-night, mother."

The funny thing was that though at the time I was single, desperately horny and was therefore masturbating for Britain, I really hadn't been using towels, dirty or otherwise, to clean up my man-milk.

So insulted and wounded was I from the mere accusation that I waited until she had gone to bed, grabbed the cleanest, whitest towel I could find from the airing cupboard, cracked one off into it, refolded it and placed it back in the middle of the pile.

Petty retaliation? Me? ^_^
(Orin delurked to post this gibberish on, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:38, Reply)

Bus vibrations
An Indian guy on my corridor at Uni was having trouble understanding the English sense of humour. He told some blokes he had never drunk beer so they took him to the bar and got him drunk. He could not feel his legs all afternoon and thinking he was being accepted into their group he shared with them his funny bus story.
Everytime he rode the bus from town to Uni he would select a particular row of seats. The good vibrations at this spot would build up to a outburst of fuck juice in his pants. Maybe it is fun to cum on bus full of strnagers in India?

His new friends told everyone on our corridor and he was laughed at for the rest of the year.
(mrdirtylegs, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:36, Reply)

Peado wanked in front of me!
I was about 10 years old and walking home from our local leisure centre from doing Karate. I was with my friend, also 10, when a car pulled up and the window rolled down. "Excuse me, do you know the way to the local park?" Came the question. Being happy, helpful young scamps we wondered over to the car and gave him directions. All this time though we were monitoring him very closely whacking himself off as he sat with no pants on. We never told anyone until I was about 16 and realised I had just helped a Peado get to the park!! In hindsight kids, tell your parents and get the police informed if this happens to you!!!
(maddave, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:32, Reply)

Public Toilet Shandymen Part 2
Similar to the winkng wanker post above.
I'd finished work for the day, and in dire need of a slash, darted into a public lav.
A public lav in a public park. Should I have expected any less?
Anyway,upon entry I saw your dictionary defination dirty old man. Tweed cap, grey bristley face, waistcoat.
*But* he was wearing those big rubber fishing waders, y'know, big rubbery leggings, and was busily rattling one out while looking over at poor me!
Christ knows how disturbing, or indeed dangerous this could have been if a kid went in instead of me.
(skimmer, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:29, Reply)

Anyway,
I was about to go on a date, and felt I should relieve myself before hand.
After 40 seconds of polishing the brass, while looking at bra magazines, I was done.

Sadly, I could not find where my create-a-baby juice had landed. I searched high and low - but it was no where to be seen. As it turns out, it had landed on my ear - but I didn't know that at the time.

The doorbell rang, it was my date - her name, Cameron Diaz. She saw the masturbatory by-product on my ear, but assumed it was hair gel.

She then used used my spunk to gel her hair upwards - which looked silly.

The End.
(Market Man, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:25, Reply)

never caught wanking personally...
(no, honestly... quite surprising really considering) and this isn't as such a 'wanking' story but I know of someone who was caught in the P.E. changing rooms talking to and feeding crisps to, his nob. I don't know why either, he was just crazy.
(josimarX, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:24, Reply)

I was caught by my best mate
when I was 13. We were alone in the house and I disapeared into the bathroom for a crafty hand-shandy complete with jazz mag.
Anyhoo, there was a knock on the front door and I called for my mate to open the door. As you can probably guess, he opened the bloody bathroom door and caught my with my hands full of mag and cock!
(taff, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:20, Reply)

Once I posted on b3ta...
...about my wanking habits - only for members of my family and/or friends to read.

Oh the laughs we had!
(McChaff, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:15, Reply)

At my folks' house...
entertainment was usually thin on the ground. Until they went out! Then it was officially shandy-time. Our working class window-cleaner, however had other ideas. Somehow managing to silently place his ladder against my windowsill, then speedily shimmy to the top without a sound. I was alerted only by a shadow in the room, and realised that he was less than enjoying an over-my-shoulder view of my favourite time-killer. The next day he came round to collect the money, and I was home alone again. I hisd under the dining room window til he was gone.
( Tone Depear fucking rocks, Wed 2 Jun 2004, 13:11, Reply)