All sex
is probably better than none.
None being the only kind i've had.
and probably the worst.
( Cae1, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 20:30, Reply)

Cold hard floor
This one will stay with me for a long time.

It was September 2005 and I'd just had my relationship with a lovely girl ended by her, mainly cos things just weren't working etc, you've all heard the drill. We're just good friends and all that jazz. Quality girl though, now one of my best mates. i digress.

It was Monday night at our uni, the main cattle-market, and, much to my joy, the first Monday of Freshers night, and, to make it even better, school disco night. Cue lots of short short SHORT skirts, low cut blouses and jail-bait for all the world to see. There were so many women, i just HAD to bag a fresher. Didn't I?

A few hours in and all is not going to plan. Girls are rejecting my spurious advances and sidling awkwardly out of my way. Damn, Maybe I'm just desperate. fuck it, i thought, who cares, I'll just get wasted. Which i proceeded to do, until 'she' caught my eye.

Standing there, smoking and looking a bit pissed off, was Ann-Marie (name not changed, you'll find out why later. No, she's not dead. As far as I know). An attractive red-head, odd but nice enough. And plus I was fucked. So I started dancing near her, then one thing led to another and we were tonguing each others tonsils like there was no tomorrow. So far, so good. But then it all started to get a little strange.

I should have seen it coming when the first thing she said to me was 'you're coming home wi' me tonight' in a crazy Ulster accent. incidentally, i love the Ulster accent and it gives me the horn, even with guys (it's never the 'wrong' pub with me;)), but there was a certain something odd about her voice.

I should have seen it coming when she bent over in front of me and touched her toes before grinding onto my rather surprised cock, all in the middle of the dancefloor, in front of a bouncer who just gave me the ultimate 'wtf' look.

Perhaps i should have even seen it coming when she started parading me to all her friends who were waiting for taxis after the bar had closed.

But no. In true Pacman style, i had to wait until it was too late.

We got back to hers, and sat smoking weed with her housemates, no harm done, they were pretty sound, nice black girl, ultra-camp guy, that kind of 'performing' house. ABBA on the stereo. No harm done.

The she disappeared and returned wearing nothing but a turquoise blue nightie (hmmm) and proceeded to eat a block of cheese. Now, i cannot stand cheese, unless it's mozzarella and on a pizza. This was cheddar. How am i supposed to kiss her now, i thought? I prayed for her to have another cigarette. She did.

we eventually went upstairs, doubts are really starting to sink in by this point, but I realise I might as well do the deed, as I've got no way of finding my way back to my house, which is a good 7 miles away. We start making out, hot and heavy, except I'm feeling a bit awkward.

I started grinding on her, and she declared that she had already come. Okay....

She slipped a condom on my now diminishing member and started to suck me off with sheath covering my manhood. Hang on, aren't you supposed to take... oh, never mind.

We started having sex, and she was making bizarre 'ooh' and 'ahh' noises, really odd sounding. She was also rather 'well-exercised', but only in a loose way. Most unsavoury.

After a while I decide that I just can't be bothered, tense up for a bit and pull out. Worst shag ever. Still is, years later.

Alas, if only it had ended there. I crashed out on her bed, and she started to cuddle me. More and more ferociously, then she began to grab my flaccid cock. What are you doing?! We've finished! What the devil is wrong with you woman?!! I shrugged her off but she continued, to the point where I could take no more. I slept on her floor. her hard, cold floor, with only my shirt to keep me covered. it didn't work very well. I eventually got to sleep at about 4, and awoke at 5. Lovely. I lay there and waited for the clock to tick by, most agonising wait of my life, and then got up at half seven and left to get back to uni. Bugger.

I still told people that I was some kind of sex hero, and no-one knew the truth until a few months later. I'm up the bar again, this time in march 2006, and I get chatting to her housemates. having not seen her for six months, i enquire of her whereabouts.

Oh, they say, she doesn't live here any more. We evicted her.

How so, say i?

I quoth thus: 'We crashed out on the sofa, and she wouldn't leave me alone (this is black girl talking). She kept fondling me. I promptly told her where to get off, but she kept doing it. Then we did some research and found out that she'd been released from a mental home prior to moving into our house.'

I fucked a mental.

As one of my mates put it, 'you do pick 'em.'

Apologies for length, but not that it mattered, she was a mental.
(pacman_40 Pocket Kleenex: for the wanker on the go, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 20:17, Reply)

When I was younger, still living with my parents and cycling everywhere from lack of driving license,
I set off from a pub, rather worse for the pathetically predictable student style binge drinking, on my bike.
Somewhere on the journey home I decided a wank was in order. Soon enough I found myself shit faced, cycling through the city with my cock out as I pumped away at it trying to stir some sort of sensation in my booze-numbed member.
Eventually I managed to reach the vinegar strokes. As I was reaching my house in fact. And so it was that I sprayed an almost perfectly horizontal line of spunk down the side of my dad's Ford Fiesta. Which, effectively, means I have fucked my own dad.
( baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 20:17, Reply)

I Like! Is Nice!
Recently had a fling with a bit of a nutter. Quite a goer though, so there was an upside.

We started seeing each other a little after the Borat film came out and being in the humourous group we are, quotes of the film were not unknown.

Hence, our first ever shag session almost being cut short by the heavy breathing in my ear turning into a groaned "Sexy time!!"

"Oh dear Christ what the hell have I have got my knob into?", was my first thought, I recall...

A Borat image in the mind does not make to keep the old fella turgid.

She loved the length often after though, so long as I kept my hand over her mouth.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 19:50, Reply)

The worst sex
Women obviously

bindun?

appologies to half of the population of the world.
(Charlietron Still can't think of anything witty to put here, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 19:13, Reply)

My First Time
Thanks to B3ta, I had the 'Willies from Mars' song in my head whilst I lost my virginity! It got so bad I had to get up at one point, switch my pc on and play it!! It was a bit of a turn off as you can imagine. Dumped the next day, not spoken to her since.
(silkysean pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:56, Reply)

Romance Is Not Dead
Sounds like part of a crap eighties stand up routine but I promise it's true. Two middle aged women at work who shall remain nameless and the conversation, as often, turns to sex.

One says "My husband can't get enough, he's always waking me up at three in the morning to have sex!"

Other replies, totally seriously, "Your husband wakes you up first? Awwwww, that's sweet."

......
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:54, Reply)

Sweets
I will get around to posting my own tales of woe...but for now, have this...

Mr Cadbury and Miss Rowntree met on a Double Decker, it was After Eight.

She was from Quality Street, he was a Fisherman's Friend.

On the way they stopped at a Yorkie Bar, he had a Rum and Butter, she had a Wine Gum.

He asked her name, "Polo, I'm the one with the hole" she said. "I'm the one with the nuts," he thought! Then he touched her Milky Way.

They checked in to a hotel, and went straight to the bedroom. Mr Cadbury turned out the light for a bit of Black Magic. It wasn't long before he slipped his hand into her Snickers and felt her Cream Egg.
He fondled her Flap Jacks then he showed her his Curly Wurly and Tic Tacs.

Miss Rowntree wasn't keen to have any Jelly Babies, so she let him take a trip down Bourneville Boulevard via her Party Ring. He was quite pleased as he always fancied a bit of Fudge. It was a magic moment as she let out a scream of Turkish Delight.

When he pulled out, his fun size Mars Bar felt a bit Crunchie. She wanted more, but he needed Time Out, however, he noticed her Pink Wafers looked very appetizing.

He did a Twirl, had a Picnic in her Sherbet Dip and finished off by giving her a Gob Stopper!

Unfortunately, Mr Cadbury then had to go home to his wife, Caramel. Sadly he was soon to discover he had VD.

It turned out Miss Rowntree had been with Bertie Basset who apparently had Allsorts!!!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:51, Reply)

Fishy Mimsy.. and absoloutly NOT for the reason you'd expect...
Despite having slept with terrible shags, potato-sack stylee lovers, people who raked my manhood with thier teeth, and those who's genital hygene can be likened to that of a corpse, this has to be the worst night of amourous missadventure in my life.

********************************************

I'm going to apoligise in advance, and suggest that if you're eating, skip this and come back later.

Ere we go.. are you sitting comfortably? good.

I live in Sweden...

... and have in the past mentioned Surströmming and the violent aroma. If you doubt my wisdom, go and play with youtube. You'll find all sorts of people being violated by putrid fish smells.

Now.. Midsummer in Sweden is one HELL of a party. I've been here for a good few years, and I can't remember a single Midsummer where people haven't got royally rat-arsed, or fallen over while dancing round the giant phallic symbol that we erect for the party: Rinsing your recently abused pallette of rotten fish with large quantities of Vodka and Akvavit can get you more drunk than you'd care to imagine.. but as for the frog-dance there is no excuse.

Anyway... there's lots of rampant alcohol fuelled shagging that goes on. This night I was going to become another statistic.

6am, and the missus and I have swayed home in the lazy and meandering way that the drunks have perfected over an eternity of liver-abuse... We were determined to nail each other to the bed when we get home. Now.. to be fair to her she was awesome in bed, it's just that this night was about to go wrong. Terribly terribly wrong.

We'd both been drikning for nearly 12 hours straight. We were both obscenely drunk... and I was having difficulty getting hard. I could hardly keep my body erect, let alone Mr Winky. Missus Humpty decided that - as sitting on my face was always a dead-cert for trouser-snake charming - she'd hoik her dress up, and ride my tongue.. This she did. Rather hard. I'm not only used to this, but a great fan to boot. My tongue worked away at her feverishly, her cute puckered barking-spider a bare few milimeters from my nose. I was in heaven, and riding my face like a drunken pro, so was she.

She was sat in the perfect position to tug away at any signs of life, and as she and I both neared the point of no return I - mouth full of mimsy - was forced to heave air through my nose at a colossal rate, much like a jet-fighter at full throttle just before take-off....

We both came.... and - as fate would have it - the orgasm ripping through her body caused her to grind down harder on my face.. and fart: forecefully injecting un-diluted rectal gasses into my air-hungry nose.

A FULLL force, and totally ripe, hot Surströmming fart (far worse than the initial burst of smell from the tin), CLEAN up my nostrils. The reaction was instant.. and completely unaware of her crime and mistaking my convulsions as throws of exstacy, Mrs Humpty ground down harder on my face as I gasped for air.. The enormity of my horror peaked as, in the full grip of natural bolidy rejection, I hoyed my stomach's content, including a large amount of undigested, rotten fish, straight up her pink mitten.

As the fetid herring now deeply stuck in my nostrils caused me to start a gagging fit that would go on to last an apparent eternity, She ran screaming to the bathroom with rotten fish, stomach acid and alcohol dribbling from her burning mimsy.

Oh how we laughed. (much much MUCH later)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:29, Reply)

Sweaty, lager and curry-fuelled sex
I felt like I had a 2 stone bag of chicken madras blobbing around my middle, and we were both sweating like pigs. Thank goodness it was at her house.

The other worst time was when the cat came and curled up on my arse, just as I was on the vinegar strokes. Furry pervert.
(rogerzilla, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:21, Reply)

the worst sex?
the worst sex? no sex
(thebadger Isn't lurking for a change on,, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 18:06, Reply)

My ex-girlfriend.
Easily the craziest girl in the world.

Easily.

She was the definition of Bunny-boiler.

But quite the goer in the bedroom. Her mum was out and we were getting down to it one day when she looked me straight in the eye and said:

"I want you to rape me"

I spluttered "w-what?" to which she replied

"Fucking rape me. Chase me round the house and rape me"

So there I was, I had to chase this girl around the house, both of us with our bits flapping around. When I caught her I had to put my hands around her neck and say things like "Shut up bitch or I'll cut you!"

This is ALOT less arousing than it sounds.

Particularly when she said "Oh no please stop!! Please let me go!!" and started sobbing.

I immediatly stopped thrusting and said "Oh my god are you okay? I'm not hurting you or anything am I?"

"No" She replied "I'm just getting into character..."



.
( KernKraft Gosh, there isn't much noise outside today, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 17:59, Reply)

Whilst I was loosing my virginity ....
..I realised this was such a momentous occasion that not knowing her name would annoy me for ever. So in mid shag I stopped, asked her what her name was and shook her hand...what a gentleman eh?
Anyway - her name was Laurie and she was frankly not bad.
But I would imagine she thought i was the worst shag ever for that.
(John Elton, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 17:35, Reply)

GF
was rimming me whilst giving the old boy a tug...




....then I farted in her face..


OK for me though!
( social hand grenade I was a lurker before you were a lurker, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 17:29, Reply)

My first time was great....
My first time lasted all of 1.75 minutes but was one of the best shags I ever had!

My worst time however was with the same girl but several months later - by this time she had become VERY vocal and (to my teenie delight) would often scream the house down during our steamy sessions.

This particular occasion was a thursday night and me and Charl*tte had come home from college and raced upstairs discarding our clothes on the way and got straight down to the noisy business of making teh sex, leaving my bedroom door wide-open.

Afterwards I went downstairs in a towel to get a couple of glasses of Cresta and there's my mum sitting on the sofa taking sharp drags on a cigarette and clearly in distress.

"Get that whore out of my house this instant - I will not tolerate that kind of behaviour in MY HOUSE!!!"

It turns out mum (bless her) had come home from London early and was in the garden watering the flowers when she heard me coming in the front door... So naturally she came inside and followed the trail of clothing up and in to my room to be confronted with my skinny white arse as I pumped and heaved over the naked Charl*tte.... Mum was stunned in to a chain-smoking silence and retreated to the living room where she seathed and waited for us to emerge so she could give me a bollocking.

So although the sex was good - recalling just makes me think about my mum standing in the doorway behind me and no matter how hard I try I can't help but wonder how long she was stood there!!! AAAArghhhh!!!!
(aroe_m0rre, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 17:14, Reply)

Righty.
I apologise now for crudeness.

This was a while ago now. Got back from a night at the local Labour club (yes, they're amazing places to pick up chicks) and went back to the house of a girl I've known quite a while. I'd always wanted some slap and slap with her, so when we got upstairs I'm hearing the word "jackpot" in the back of my mind.

So, we're having a bit of pre-sexing fun and then the time comes for action. We start off and then all of sudden 'down there' feels a bit juicy. I look down to see Red. So, what do I do? Ask her if she's on (yeah, stupid I know). Her reply was no. It turns out that i'm spouting claret out the end of my spam dagger. AND A LOT OF IT.

Having pretty much ruined her matress with what looked like a shooting, I now had to get home, using a towel to contain the bleeding. So, i'm in a taxi, with a towel down my pants and my trousers have blood on them. Whatever the taxi driver must have thought i'll never know.

I finally make it home with a towel that has now been transformed from a nice small floral design into the equivalent of an elephants lady towel. Finally, the bleeding stops. I have a wash, get changed and go to sleep.

Only to be awoken by my dad, who thinks I've tried to kill myself (genuinely) after seeing a towel covered in more blood than the floor at a PMS meeting.

Needless to say, we haven't sexed since.
( Kavanagh thinks that -6C is warm, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:59, Reply)

OK.
Girlfriend and I. Both living with our parents. Only opportunity for nookie in the car when one of us drove the other back home. Happily there was a moor about halfway between our houses and it was perfectly quiet, but not - you know - SCARY quiet.

One day, however, there were other people in our place. Bastards. Not to be deterred, and, frankly, with-horn, we drove on and found an MOD airbase all along one side of the longest straightest road I have ever seen. The usual spot was fairly secluded, but the base had a rough verge next to the road and I figured cars would be flying past far too fast for anyone to see what we were up to.

It was stressful to say the least. Cars shooting past made the car lurch sideways intermittently, and you could watch headlights appear on the horizon close together, slowly get further apart as the cars approached, then shoot by as the car rocked in the draft.

One set of lights did not get further apart. Indeed, that set of lights pulled in in front of us then turned off. We had both front seats folded back and I hopped like a salmon, trousers round my knees into the front seat.

In rather a panic I turned the headlights on. In the beam of my lights was a man in camouflage gear on one knee pointing a rifle through the windscreen. AS I SAW HIM there was a loud knocking on my window. I wound it down and another rifle poked through the window. I can smell it right now...

I bet they had a right laugh. I, on the other hand, thought I was going to die. Don't forget I am sat in the front seat of my Mum's Honda Fucking Jazz, on my bare arse, with my cock out. And, sitting bolt upright as the seat back was folded flat.

"Do you have any identification?" "Er, I have a Bristol and West Cashline card." "That'll do." ('That'll do'! As if terrorists can't get building society savings accounts) "It's in the back. Erm... [looks back]...can you pass me my wallet? It's in my coat."

Girlfriend, holding both tits under one forearm rummages through my pockets and passes me my pointless and embarassingly lame Cashline card.

"Right sir. As you are aware, there have been a lot of IRA threats on post offices recently, and we can't have people loitering by MOD property can we?" "I guess not." "We're going to let you go, but please - don't stop here again." Shit, I was going to be back tomorrow.

So that was it. Except I had to drive away from the base, down the hill, through Batheaston, down the dual carriageway, and about five miles further on on my bare arse, with my cock out, and the seat down, with my naked girlfriend shouting at me, until I could find somewhere to stop and get my pants up again.
( collapsibletank procreates, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:43, Reply)

erm
b3ta.com/questions/notlosingyourvirginity/post64346/

/laziness
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:39, Reply)

Well
Torn banjo strings are never pleasant. But the very worst was a woman who seemed to think that being me saying "no" meant "rip his trousers off and rape him". And at the end of all that it was like opening a window and fucking the night, she was that loose.

*I* don't have any problems with length...
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:37, Reply)

» Personal Hygiene
Repost.
The FIRST Mrs. Kite
Now the current Mrs Kite is a fragrant, clean creature but her predecessor was a stinky whore. She never showered, bathed once a week (but bizarely shaved her arms every other day ?!). But the worst was one day we were getting amorous and I decided to "go down" on her...so im about to get intimate and I get a rich, cheesy whiff from her biffer, look closesly and (without being too graphic or FrankSpencerish here) the gap between her Labia Majora (look on Wikipedia) and her inner thigh was FULL of smeg - about the size of a Dairylea triangle !

*shudders*
(kitescreech still here, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:33, Reply)

Not me, but a friend from uni...
... had his "shagging CD", of smoove soulful tunes to stick on and aid the seduction process. He'd leave it set up so he just needed to dim the lights, turn on the stereo and hit play.

Until some cunt who was round at his house using his musicy stuff while he was off on the pull swapped his "shagging CD" for Minor Threat, turned the volume right up, pulled the knob off and put it back on so it looked like it was still set fairly low.
(gordonjcp, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:31, Reply)

The Shocker (tm)

(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:31, Reply)

Frenulum.
In two pieces.
( collapsibletank procreates, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:29, Reply)

Not that outrageous but...
made me question why I had entered into a consentual relationship with him.

Sex, to begin with, was a flop, both metaphorically and physically speaking. Then, when he started to maintain an erection, it wasn't much better. His sweat smelt a bit like marijuana (which sounds nicer than it really is, you wouldn't want to get high on his bodily fumes) and he sort of flapped about when he was on top. He hadn't quite figured out how to use his hips, so imagine a fish that's been cast ashore, trying to shuffle back to sea.

And the worst sex face ever! The first time with him, I stopped to yelp "OHMIGOD are you hurt?!" which was met with a look of puzzled annoyment.

What a shame - he had a massive wang :(
(petite chaussure, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:18, Reply)

Loads
There's been quite a few to be honest.
It's how you rate the worst that matters, is it in terms of terrible consequences, unforgivable betrayal, blinding physical pain, acute embarrassment or just how fat they were.

I once pulled one of my younger sister's friends during a night out on the piss. She invited me back to hers for to do 'the deed', but before that she suggested a cheeky toke. I'm one of those guys that can't drink and then smoke so I pulled a whitey while she was on top of me, was sick on myself and passed out. If she's had worse than that I'll be surprised.

I also once shagged a really fat girl (orca fat) in the back of the mobile phone shop i worked in at about 3am. Fucking horrible it was, she was slick with sweat in every crevice. I kept expecting a KFC to spill out.

Another time I once came so hard i passed out and headbutted the poor girl.

Oh and there was that time we both passed out during a bout of 'brown love' and woke up in a very, very messy bed. My bed too. Bugger(y).

All great times. On those dark, lonely, wanky nights I'd love to relive any of these experiences. (Apart from Orca, I'd rather have the KFC).
(fatcock has decided to be more mysterious.....or has he?, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 16:11, Reply)

First time.
Just doing the business when i get hit with the bombshell 'you do realise if we both died right now we'd go straight to hell?'.
Carried on anyway....
(evilsquirrel Stopped sharking and went for chips and drinks on, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 15:50, Reply)

Well...
...I was married for 17 years.

I win.

(Seriously, though- her idea of sex was for me to grope her until she gave an exasperated sigh and growled "Okay, come here" and flung back the covers as though she had just let rip with a monumental fart. And then she wondered why most of the time I turned her down and went to sleep...)

(On the plus side, now at the age of 44 I have a girlfriend who's two years older than I am, and I am getting the best sex of my life. And the ex sleeps alone.)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 15 Jun 2007, 15:41, Reply)

She ruined it
I was thoroughly enjoying myself, but after a while her screams of "Rape! Stop it, I'm your mother! RAPE!" started to phase me and I gave up and had a wank on the cat instead.

Parents, eh? Always ruin everything.
(ratthingbazzterd, Fri 15 Jun 2007, 15:39, Reply)