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This is a question The worst sex I ever had

OK, enough of the fluffy.

What's the worst sex you've ever had?

(, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 10:41)
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This question is now closed.

You don't know what you are missing!
So many negative posts about sleeping with fat people! You don't know what you are missing!

Personally, I absolutely love it. My lastest lover is a strapping, gorgeous man of about 18 and a half stone. He was bloody fantastic in bed and I find all that weight on me a real, serious turn on. Big, strong and sexy...a real man mmmm! Something real to wrap your legs around!

I can't stand the thought of sleeping with a malnurished man who looks like he would snap and cry in two the minute you start getting enthusiastic. Tar, but no tar. Though, if thats what you like then good luck to you. Give me someone a little more robust.

As a larger woman myself, I have had quite a few men tell me that they much prefer women with meat on their bones. One very, very sexy and athletic man (who I would go for it if he wasn't married) I know has been sniffing around me for months and he has told me its because my size 18 to 20 frame and E cup boobs are his ideal fantasy! He is super fit and surrounded by thin, beautiful women all day at work, yet prefers the office big girl. He feels guys who only want size zero girls don't really want full grown women, but pre-pubescent girls or even boys. My recent lover tells me I'm amazing in bed, I'm sexy and make him feel like a love god. Not bad for a short, brunette fat lass.

I'm not normally a big headed woman but I'm merely trying to prove a point that thin people don't have the monopoloy on attractiveness and fantastic sex. The media may have you think that, but in real life its different horses for different courses. If you don't like fat people, you shouldn't make it wrong for other people to.

As a fatty, the only complaint I have ever had from lovers is that I wanted too much sex. Not bad for a fat lass and I am sure most red blooded men wouldn't mind that! I just happen to have been out with some repressed men.

So, dear reader, I urge you to shag a fatty! Its great and much more comfy than skin and bone. If you have shagged a fatty and they were crap then its not because of their size, but perhaps a lack of skill. If you found them so repulsive then why shag them in the first place?!

Live and let live! Free yourself from a lifetime of elbowy loving and lettuce leaves!

Spread the love and eat pies!

Some poster whose name I can't be arsed to look up again points out I sound like I am slagging off thin people with the elbowy love thing. I know, I know, I know thin people have feelings too lol.

Sorry if offended anyone. I'm a nice girl really and was simply standing up for my kind.

My actual intention was to say 'be yourself and don't be pressured in to harsh diets just to make yourself attractive to ignorant people'.

Hell, I had done a 12 hour shift and was tired when I wrote the post. Anyhoo... this is supposed to be a fun site so lets all get back to that eh?
(, Wed 20 Jun 2007, 0:57, Reply)
another friend louise
just got back from ireland after a dirty weekend with a potential new bloke.

every time she came, he told her, "ssssssssssssh".

now, nobody likes a screamer. but i don't quite know what to say to her in response... is it me, or is that really really rude!?
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 23:57, Reply)
The worst is always the first
Living in Sweden at the time and feeling all was right and ready with the girl. I "prepped" myself before the date, but that didn't seem to matter as 15 seconds in, I was done. 5 minutes of awkward silence later, I say that I wish I had brought another condom. Hold on, she says, and pulls one out of her dresser. 2 more times later, she's asking me if I'm sure it's my first time. Of course I am. She never believed me, though.

I guess it wasn't so bad on my part, after all.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 23:41, Reply)
i was 19
it was the night of my birthday and after a big night out me and my girlfriend decide to go to be for a bit of fun. did not happen. apparantly for some reason sometimes she just hurts alot down there just being touched.

got a hand job instead (which she does with alot o love and care.

she recently revealed to me that she doesn't enjoy sex alot as it hurts her a little (what can i say, i'm big)and that she only does it because she's afraid she'll lose me. Bless

length? through rumours spreading about it i've got the nickname "Totum"
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 23:32, Reply)
tears at bedtime
at the endish (you know the stage where your breaking up and getting back togeather and breaking up and sleeping with each other and breaking up and so on) of the relationship with my first proper girlfriend, we had got back together or jumped into bed or something after a few weeks of not seeing each other, and about after 5 minutes of intercourse she started sobbing... humm. so i withdrew and said "I don't think we should do this again"
-I can be so perseptive sometimes
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 22:36, Reply)
Poo tits
Received the following email from a friend a while back. I don't think he'll mind me reposting it here...

A friend of a friend (if only it were merely an urban legend as this would suggest), was going out with a lady. The evening progressed in a manner befitting two free and single individuals and they ended up back at her house, with the intention of becoming more than usually aquainted with each other.

Before commencing their lovemaking, the female of the pairing produced a plastic sheet to put over the bed. The reason given that they were using her parents' bed, and washing the sheets afterwards (as is only polite) would leave said parents in no doubt as to what had occurred.

So, plastic-sheeted, they continued. During the process, the male was surprised to feel a silk handkerchief being inserted into what had previously only been an "out" hole. This caused him some surprise, but what with all of the carnal ecstasy he was experiencing, he decided to let it go. Events progressed and the point of no return was reached, at which precise moment, the silk handkerchief was whipped free from its warm and rectal prison.

It is a quirk of physiology that his particular combination of orgasmic pleasure and handkerchief-related stimulation causes the contents of the lower colon to sense the same freedom as the handkerchief was now enjoying, and contractions occur to facilitate its rapid escape.

At this point, our male quasi-hero was rather upset, he stayed relatively motionless, eyes closed in panic. He could only think of two possibilities. Either his companion would be disgusted, ruining any chance of more carnal delight for some while, or she would be highly amused, and he would be ridiculed.

Bracing himself, he opened his eyes to find his bedfellow lightly massaging the newly-released contents of his bowels into her mammary areas.

That, in case you are still reading, is the legend of poo-tits.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 21:01, Reply)
There's been good and bad...
...on both sides of the fence, but even shit ones are good in a way because they're at least memorable. True, you might not look on them as fondly but they become part of you nonetheless, just the same as the best ones. That and in most cases they teach you a lesson and once you get over them, they're good for a laugh.

The only truly shit sex is mediocre sex. Unmemorable, unsatisfying, lukewarm, going-through-the-motions, what's-the-fucking-point sex. It sucks. It sucks more than the time when a mother-of-two told me her IUD had become detached just as she'd settled on my 19yo little soldier. More even than the day I got frisky with a bloke when we'd both had a serious curry the night before - oh yeah, that was a lesson learned alright. If you've never known mediocre boffing, you're lucky, or at least have been up to now because sadly you won't avoid it for ever.

Case in point: A couple of years ago, a lad piped up in a gay chat room and was a bit too full-on. There were other rooms if a lad wanted to get right to it - this one was just for shooting the breeze. I pointed this out and he began to insist that he had good reason for his familiarity because he'd slept with me. A bold claim, I thought as I had no idea who he was. I was having none of it until he described the interior of the flat I was living in during the time he was talking about. In detail. He then described me. In detail {ahem}. Bloody hell I thought, he's right.

Before you start, it wasn't because I've had so many* I couldn't place him - it was because it must have been so utterly unremarkable that I didn't even bother to note it, let alone remember it or him with it. I remember when the penny dropped saying to the screen 'Fuck mate, but it must have been staggeringly crap', then followed up with '...at least for me - you remember a good time by all accounts.' I felt so sorry for him, and at the same time quite pleased with myself. What? I'm a bloke aren't I?

I did apologise for, well, forgetting he ever existed, as much as I thought it was worth. To my surprise, he took it on the chin and wanted to hook up again - fuck, I must have been good. Still, I declined. Thing is, I couldn't then and still can't remember his face, his performance, or even his peepee and I'm just embarassed for me and him both. The proof he provided is the only evidence to me that it even happened, though it's evidence enough. I remember the face of everyone I've ever slept or even got intensely friendly with, male or female but him, I think, got shunted from storage with no save. That's mediocre.

Even mediocre sex can have a silver lining though, as I've already demonstrated - you develop new appreciation for the good and the shit ones. More for the good ones though ;)

* Trust me, by single gay standards I'm almost a monk. Especially since the departure of the ex a few months ago - I've sought out just one rebound fuck in 5 months and guess what, it was fairly mediocre and I reckon it was down to me that time. Fuck it, I'll make do with my hand for awhile. This time now has been officially dubbed 'Closed For Refurbishment'. I mean to raise my targets on all scores next time I choose, and I'm working hard to make sure I hit them ;)
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 20:47, Reply)
bernard manning
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 20:36, Reply)
Err, no
My worst sex was the ex, huge, but really didn't know what to do with it. Lay on top of me for about 5 mins, did all the right moves, right sounds then looked at me, and said, it's not in, is it?
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 19:45, Reply)
Painful memories
Picture the scene if you will...

It’s the summer of the year 2001 all is well with the world and I the young Rhubarb Triangle am living what passes for the good life in the fair city of Newcastle. I’ve just recently met the young lady who will later become the ex Mrs Triangle and as she lives in Leeds am spending a fair amount of time travelling up and down the country to spend “time” with her (for time here, you can read “horizontal time”).

On this particular weekend the ex Mrs Triangle has decided to try something a little different and has elected to go on top, at first all is well and much fun is being had (well I was enjoying it, and lets be honest that’s all that counts here) Some time into our carnal aerobics and I begin to feel a little twinge from the “old chap” being the polite young chap I was at the time I say nothing and merely attempt to gently adjust the young ladies position to prevent further recurrence.

In fairness this meets with little success and the intermittent twinges of discomfort continue, until finally I experience what can only be described as a god-awful snapping sensation. I signal my distress to my partner in a subtle fashion by screaming “YEEEAAARGGHHH!!” at the top of my voice. Sensing my disquiet the young lady in question dismounts to see what the matter is. Looking down at my member I am greeted with a positively Scarlet crown to the appendage in question. In my confusion I wonder whether said young lady is experiencing that time of the month until I realise the scarlet fluid is inside the protective sheath.

Now gents I’m sure I don’t need to spell this out but there truly are few sights more distressing than the sight of blood flowing from that particular part of your anatomy.

In considerable discomfort and unsure as to the extent of the damage I dress in the loosest fittings garments I can muster and we elect to make our way to casualty with all speed.

Once arriving at the local A&E and going through the frank embarrassment of discussing the reason for our visit with a nurse who did a marvellous job of not collapsing in a fit of giggles I am assessed in terms of the seriousness of my injury and asked to wait.

For those of you not familiar with the city centre of Leeds of a weekend, allow me to assure you that when the Kaiser Chiefs sang “I predict a riot” they were spot on with there assumption. As such I am left sitting very carefully in the waiting room for about 6 hours while a procession of Drunks who felt the need to fight / drink far more than anyone would consider safe / beat themselves to a pulp on a variety of inanimate objects are passed forward for treatment. Eventually I am ushered through to a treatment room where I’m told to wait for a Doctor. Given my discomfort caused by clothing upon my damaged todger and frankly wooziness caused by my inability to handle the sight of my own mangle cock I elect to lie down and free the old chap from his cloth prison. After another two hours the male Dr arrives, dons a pair of rubber gloves, examines the old chap and declares that I have broken my Banjo String (in truth this is not the term he used but given the circumstances the noting of medical terms was not the matter most forefront in my mind)

Having cleaned the worst of the gore from my member the Dr packs me off and advises to stay off the nookie for a period of about 4 weeks (at that point I would comfortably have foresworn it for an eternity)

Now as if all this pain and humiliation was not bad enough I now realised that it is 8 am on a Sunday and I am due at work in a little over 2 hours in Newcastle, And so I am forced to call in sick. Now being the moral young fool I was I could not tell a mistruth, and on speaking to my manager I let slip the full horror and swear him to secrecy on the true reason for my absence.

The rest of that day is spent attempting to sleep whilst applying an icepack to my Nethers. On the next day I head back up North and return to work. Shortly after arriving I am called into the office to be greeted by every single manager/ supervisor / slack jawed Gawker who then proceed to mock me relentlessly up until the point I managed to do something more entertaining to them the pack of Geordie bastards that they were.

Apologies for length, although that wasn’t an issue for sometime after this let me tell you
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 19:41, Reply)
on holiday in Portugal
it wasn't very nice
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 19:38, Reply)
Drunken Mess
'Twas not so long ago, about 6 weeks in fact.

The scene: house party. Full of 18 year-old lazy cunts and everyone of them rolling huge spliffs with the Town's finest skunk (me included), empty Jack Daniels bottles strewn accross the living room and the stairs. Just a general mess that you would expect from a bunch of college/6th form students. Anyway, I digress.

The girl: ooh she was gorgeous. Just a bit shorter than me, brunette, lovely figure with a bit of meat on her. Perfect. I was getting on with my smoking when she came over and asked for a toke. 'Sure, go ahead' was my reply, and we shared the rest of the spliff and got talking.

Fast-forward to about 3am when a lot of people had left. 'Fancy finding a bed' I suggested, 'Yeah, might as well' she said. SWEET, guaranteed shag (or so I thought).

We went upstairs in search of a free room...jackpot, the double was free. I got on and she quickly followed. We started frantically kissing and after I'd had enough I took her jeans off as quickly as I could and slipped a couple of fingers inside. She was loving it so I moved in with my tongue. Now, at this point, I was hard and this is where it starts going downhill...

I'd had enough of the foreplay and wanted to get my dick wet. She knew this and returned the favour by stripping me naked and getting a taste of sausage. I was grinning like a Cheshire cat as I hadn't had this much action in months. She removed her lips and it was time for the main event. 'Have you got a condom' she asked, 'Yeah' I said and handed it to her to put it on.

She put it on, I put it in and I went soft. FUUUUUUUUUUUCK! What the Buh-Jesus was happening to me? (Ten pint cans of Strongbow and countless spliffs). I didn't even have to take it out, it just flopped out like a dead mackerel or something like that.

'Fuck sake........I'm...........this has never hap....' I was mumbling like a cunt. 'Look, it doesn't matter, I understand. You've had a lot to drink'. She tried to make me feel better but it only made me feel worse. I fucked off to sleep on the couch and she rolled over with the double to herself.

In the morning I went before anyone and back to the safety of my own home where nobody could laugh at my shrinking cock. I went to sleep. It must've been about midday when a text woke me up, a number I didn't know: 'Thanks for last night babe. I really like you, don't worry about what happened I want to meet you again. Luv K.'

'Get in' I wailed and replied straight away. We met the next Friday and now we've been together over a month.

Apologies for length? Well, I suppose so. Apparantly on Friday I was 'hung for fun'.

b3ta cherry well and truely *popped*
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 18:22, Reply)
If you don't like shagging fat birds
Why do you keep pulling them? And then bitching about how fat they are on b3ta?
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 18:22, Reply)
Why don't you just shag Sarah?
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 18:20, Reply)
Bad. Just bad.
I pulled a fat fifteen pinter of a barmaid a couple of years ago on holiday. You should have saw the look of happiness on her face. This girl clearly didn't get much action. I on the other hand, had to take it, as my mate had blagged the fitter one who was working with her (and I wasn't going home empty handed, so to speak) so I made my moves while waiting until the end of her shift while she served me more beer and I'll be honest, it wasn't hard to pull. I just said "Coming back to mine?" and it was like "Okay..." (by the way, that line has worked for me since, back home as well. Co-incidentally, with another fat barmaid!!!! Unbelievable, yet true.) Tried not to make eye contact with anyone on the way back to my hotel out of embarassment.

Gets back to my room, and before I went on this particular ride, I threw a "safety belt" on, as it would be just my luck to have to pay child support to a fat bird for the next twenty years. Didn't tell this girl my real name anyway but that's beside the point.

So only me could throw a condom on inside out!!! After a few of my moves, I was feeling a burning sensation. Words immediately going through my head were; broke, snapped, AIDS, FUCK!!!

Didn't know what was happening to me. This was wrong. Wrong all over. I had to pull out.

After finally realising what I had done after a thorough examination and checking there was no blood or snappage, I couldn't be arsed going through with it after that. She wanted to carry on. Told her I couldn't, and that it wasn't going to happen.

So as I'm lying there, she only leans over and puts my testicles in her mouth, thinking that I would like it and that it would be "sexy". A big fucking fat no. No, no, NO!!! That's not what they're for, don't touch them, in fact get them out of your mouth, stop sucking and "JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM PLEASE..."

Was all okay and working by the next night, with the much thinner and more attractive girl I managed to blag. More than once as well as I recall.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 18:18, Reply)
Wild and Windy!
I pulled a rather chubby girl who turned out to be a rather enthusiastic participant in nightime naughties.

Going at it for the 3rd time said chubby lass decided to take control and having brought me around again with a B J, climbed aboard and rode me with some gusto. Great so, I'm lying on me back with Ms chubby bouncing around and thinking life doesn't get much better than this!

Suddenly Ms chubby stopped and looked me in the eyes and grinned. Next thing she let rip with a ginormous fart that tickled my bollocks like a feather duster laced with itching powder!

I writhed and wriggled around and eventually managed to unseat her whereupon she struck her wrist on the headboard sustaining some grazes and a large bruise.

She was not amused and took exception to my giggling!! Well it wasn't my fault - I didn't expect to be farted on!
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 18:17, Reply)
Not really bad...
..but EPIC!!1!1 sex. Having gone back to my room one night after having an after party at my shared flat. Was in the mood for some cheesy metal, so on goes Hammerfall. Into my room pops a girl id been chatting with earlier and we proceed to get down to it.

Having sex to power metal is possibly the strangest night of my life. You really feel like keeping in rythm with the beat aswell.

Was like a rabbit on speed.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:55, Reply)
One of me mates
pulled this bird, gets her back to his flat and starts getting it on. About 5 mins in she apparently gets there herself and says quite happily that she was done, leaving him just a tad frustrated.

So he fucked her friend later that night out of spite. That'll learn 'em.

Ps Spazzcat, you look identical to my younger sister *fwaps*
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:43, Reply)
false advertising
I once picked up a shiela in seattle. I'd actually made a date with another women I'd met in my travels but she turned up with her boyfriend which put my nose out of joint. A woman at the bar started flirting with me, which quickly progressed into her whispering various things she wanted to do to me if I came home with her. Well between the bum steer from the other girl and this ones promises, I took her up on her offer. I remember flying through unknown suburbs at light speed in her pick up before stopping to ask me if I had money for beer (i didn't). Anyway it was the worst spearing the bearded clam I'd ever had, especially after her kinky promises. She just lay there like a stunned mullet, and I had to do all the work. It wasnt even the drink I reckon, she was just a dud root. My last memory was sneaking out in the dawns light with neighbourhood dogs barking at me and wondering where the fuck I was.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:39, Reply)
This is probably...
...the most painfull to read QotW i have ever read...

I keep crossing my legs in imaginary pain.

Incidently worst pour moi. Freshers week at uni. Extremely drunk and have pulled. Get back to my room and get down there and notice quickly its like putting your hand in a wind tunnel, then she says about 10 seconds after getting down there 'can we just shag i cant be arsed with foreplay?'

Fuck this. Goodbye.

Im probably just crap. :'(
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:25, Reply)
Tiggy the Diver...
...scares me.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:15, Reply)
Fat, ginger & on the blob
nuff said really.

Nope, just remembered it got worse. It was in Farnborough.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:04, Reply)
Don't lose your virginity to a fat bloke
My first boyfriend was somewhat less than svelte. Being a gawky, buck-toothed social outcast at the time (at least that's how I saw myself) I thought I might as well go for it as he was the best I was going to get.

I was 16, he was 19. We were both virgins. However, he didn't have even the slightest clue what to do beyond putting his small, chubby, barely-erect member somewhere in the vicinity of a part of me that deserves a lot more respect than it got that night.

Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe he was just the only 19 year old on the fucking planet incapable of achieving anything more than a semi when confronted with a naked blonde sixteen year old. But it was like being rogered with an uncooked hot dog.

He also didn't understand that if you're on top you support YOURSELF. You don't just lie belly-down on your partner and wriggle, whilst crushing her to death.

As well as that, his lack of familiarity with exertion meant that he sweated. A lot. And as the grotesque ordeal reached its unfortunate end, I found myself staring at a drip of sweat, quivering ominously from the end of his nose, a mere two or three inches above my face.

I prayed. I prayed at that moment that the inevitable wouldn't happen. But in the end all I could do was watch, helplessly trapped beneath a lump of inept podge, as the malevolent salty droplet lost its grip on his nose and landed




First, and worst. It nearly put me off for life.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:02, Reply)

ah.. falling through the stairs..them were the days...
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 17:01, Reply)
I'm still a virgin, so I can't really answer this one.
I fell through the stairs once though.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:47, Reply)
Bit off topic
Having seen PotC 3 the other day, me and my mate have decided that a euphamism for being married should be Davey Jones' Curse - one shag every 10 years !

(only joking Mrs. Kite :-) )
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:36, Reply)
As I recall, it was a sign of devotion to God- a sort of blood sacrifice. (I'm a little rusty on the Old Testament shite.)

Here's a bit of conversation on the subject: filtered.sensibleerection.com/entry.php/65589
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:35, Reply)
Worst sex
She got a puncture before I was finished...
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:33, Reply)
"Is it in yet?"
A young ladyfriend of mine from uni once told me this story, about a slutty friend of hers I'd met before.

The story is this; Slutty Friend had hooked up with a lad and they were getting down to business in her room. In the middle of the excitement, Slutty utters the famous words, "Is it in yet?"
"Can't you tell?" retorts the feller, with a cocky smile.
"Do you really want me to answer that?" she replies flatly. Feller's face falls.

They didn't see each other again.

Length? Girth? I didn't ask.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:32, Reply)
Golden Sausage

That is all.
(, Tue 19 Jun 2007, 16:13, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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