b3ta.com user pb4ugo2bed
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» Office Christmas Parties

I use to write porn for a 24 hour text message service. I'm a man, but I'd pretend very convincingly to be a woman as I replied to men paying premium rate charges to text a woman that didn't exist in the hope that their feeble cocks would eventually see some daylight. Basically, I was fuelling their wank fantasies.

Christmas party day, they told me to man the computer. Whilst they ate, drank and were merry, I tossed about 500 men off, via the medium of SMS. Crying. Alone.
(Thu 16th Dec 2004, 14:56, More)

» When I met the parents

Poo stain
After seeing a girl for a few weeks when I was sixteen, she told me that her parents were away for the night. So after a club, and drunk, we went back to hers, did some monkey style fucking, then fell asleep in her mum and dads bed.
At 5am their car pulled up in the drive. Frantically getting dressed in the dark, I managed to get my shit together just in time and escape through the back door before they saw me.
Only after the three mile walk home, when I went for a shower, did I find that I'd picked up and put on a pair of her dad's pants instead of my own, and that they were painted on the inside with the most enormous skidmark I've ever seen. And it wasn't mine.
(Thu 19th May 2005, 16:47, More)

» My Wanking Disasters

my penis is tiny
apologies for length
(Tue 1st Jun 2004, 18:28, More)

» Shoddy Presents

My brother once went to tremendous lengths to give me a present I'd always remember. He got up extremely early, took a shit in a metal box, wrapped it up and slipped it into my pile of gifts. It was a surprise, I'll give him that.

The next year I gave him a box of live crickets.
(Thu 23rd Sep 2004, 13:09, More)

» My Wanking Disasters

Special delivery
My dad gets up early to walk his beloved dog everyday (fear not, for this isn't a man-canine masturbation tale and you may read on). Anyway, somewhat misled by the fact that our back garden gate was always swinging open no matter how much he was sure that he'd locked it the night before, he decided to get up extra early one day and catch the crafty culprit.
Again, that gate swung about in the wind. Walking through it (muttering bugger and fuck as he went), he glanced through the window of our shed (which it must be said was remarkably warm and comfortable). Therein lay the paperboy, furiously nudging a spunk slug from his tiny semi-erect cock as he had done every day for two months in some kind of morning-shed-wank ritual.
I don't know what his house was like, but if you're so uncomfortable shaking one out in your own house that you need to do it in someone else's garden then may pity fall upon you.
He quit that afternoon, the twat.
(Tue 1st Jun 2004, 18:10, More)
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