the horror
Well, ashamed as I am to admit it i've had a number of nightmare encounters, though thankfully I can laugh a them in hindsight. In fact having foolishly submitted many of them in an email to get tickets for Graham Norton (I know) I was harrassed on the phone by their researchers for weeks trying to get me to come in and shame myself on national telly. NO fucking chance!

But since I like you all so much I'm going to divulge all.

I've had the mandatory banjo string snappage (left an attractive bloody smear on the wall as my remarkably still erect member dashed it's zorro like signature as I scrambled to the bathroom) Also gave her flatmate a shock as he returned unexpectedly and was greeted with a full frontal view of me butt nekkid and dabbing at my blood soaked cock with his towel.

On losing my virginity in the bathroom at a teenage house party I managed to twang the condom over the head of an irate dad coming to find his daughter. (being first time I didn't realise you had to ROLL it off)horffic memory, I still cringe.

One drunken night I used sweet and sour sauce as a makeshift lubricator without telling the girlfriend and had a shocked phone call from her the next day saying we had to go to the clinic because she just had a bath and was seeping orange from 'down there'. Was fun coming clean on that one.

On the grand occasion of my first ever threesome I managed to lose a BULLET up the fanny of one of the girls since she thought it would be dead erotic for me to try and stimulate her with it. (it was a blank ironically enough). After a few moments getting her to jump up and down to dislodge it the mood was well and truly lost.

and then finally, my most utterly humiliating sexual encounter, ended with me heading to casualty with what I can only describe as elephantitis of the penis.

to summarise (ish)...was at university going out with a fantastically numbile young lass who happened to be quite into her clubbing, preferably amphetamine enhanced. So I went out with her one night for speed/dance frenzy and ended up back at her place after. Now for those of you that have attempted chemically enhanced sex you will be aware that some drugs leave your member looking and feeling much like it's been soaked in a bowl of ice water for 24 hours, that is to say numb and utterly shrivelled.

My girlfriend however was very determined to have a shag and embarked upon a handjob that I couldn't feel and she, being off her nut, couldn't judge exactly how hard she was gripping or how long it went on for, and so ensued about an hour of vice grip tugging on my unfeeling member.

I don't remember when we gave up and passed out. What I do remember is waking up, going for a piss, and discovering that my penis looked like a ballon trick gone horribly wrong. It was swollen in precisely the wrong way, skin at breaking point, like it would pop if you stuck a pin in it. If you took one of those sausage shaped ballons, tied random loops of string around it then blew it up you would have something approaching the horror that was sitting in my pants at that time.

Fear and comedown induced paranoia dictated that I fling some clothes on and walk the 5 miles to the nearest hospital, peeking into my pants every few steps to check that it hadn't burst like an overcooked sausage.

I arive at casualty and after some agonised waiting I get my turn with a queue of people behind me. The nurse asks for my name and what my complaint was. Dying with shame but utterly convinced I had a ticking cock bomb in my undercrackers I mumbled that it was a bit personal and with a quizical look she ushered me to a private room. At this point the whispers started amongst the nurses.

In my little private room a nice middle aged lady came in and asked me what exactly was wrong. Still screwed on speed my brilliant response was "my penis is swollen".

There was an thoroughly unpleasant silence and then she asked me to elaborate. I told her most of the story but desperately tried to avoid any drugs related incrimination. She gave me a starnge look as if thoroughly convinced that I was actually some horrible pervert and had injured myself in some deviant form of onanism. She asked me to remove my trouser and pants and 'pop up onto the bed' which I dutifully did. She barely stiffled a laugh, poked it with a little wooden stick thing, then left the room assuring me a doctor would be along shortly. If she had had a camera she almost certainly would have used it.

It was at this point the hospital gossip went into overdrive as I had no less than FIVE different nurses pop into the room to assure me the doctor 'would be along soon' all the while staring at my sorry state.

Finally the doctor came in took a cursory glance, told me it was just abrasion swelling and that I should go home, wait for it to go down and then "check I could still get an erection".

Cunt.

The he asked me if he could bring in his students because he was 'sure they would find this most interesting'

NO FUCKING WAY!!!! was my polite response. Then made my inevitable walk of shame out of the room, through the wating room and out to the street.

The most gutting thing was that I went home, had a fitful nights sleep imagining exploding penises or living the rest of my life unable to get wood. The next morning, hardly daring to peek into my pants, I discovered all was back to normal. I nearly cried with relief.

Then it dawned on me that had I stayed at home I could have avoided the whole sorry experience.

Having said all that, I am actually a fantastic shag. Honestly.

Length?

*sobs*
(Darth Vegas Poke It With A Stick, Mon 18 Jun 2007, 20:27, Reply)