Hello, how are you today? I’ve had a very long day working ‘darn sarf’ so I thought I would unwind by giving you a further instalment of the sexual misadventures of the fat lad from Donny.
I’ve been considering writing this one for a while but was unsure because it is a bit strong and anyone that knows me will tell you that if it’s strong by my standards then it must be pretty horrific by normal standards. So, with that in mind if you have a heart condition, suspect you may be pregnant or are easily offended please look away now. Then again if you are a dirty pervert read on!!
Happy Birthday to me!!
It was September of…..actually I’ll keep the year to myself because if not I’m sure some of you would be able to deduct who the star of this story is, I will retain said lady’s anonymity for reasons that will soon become clear. Anyway! It was September and my birthday was approaching and the lady in my life at the time said she had planned a surprise for me. I was to drop my car off at her house along with my jim jams and a toothbrush and she would take care of the rest. A taxi came to collect us and we went off to the finest restraint in Doncaster, I was a bit disappointed when this turned out not to be Burger Jim’s but I appreciated it none the less. We drank wine and scoffed down some steak then she paid and led me to the next destination, the Purple Door. Now anyone from Doncaster will know of this establishment but for those of you that don’t it is, well, a strip club. We walked in and took a seat and I was keen not to show my delight but inside I’m sure even my appendix was getting an erection. My partner then asked me to choose……I’m not sure if any other fellas out there have been in this situation but never, ever immediately point to a dancer and say in a little Britain style ‘I want that one’ I did the only thing I could think and said ‘it would be so much better if you chose’. She looked around as if she was looking at the shampoo selection on the shelf at Tesco and eventually picked out a tall brunette and took me by the hand and followed her into a booth. I felt like a teenager seeing his first set of chonkers but very wary about letting my gaze lay on her for too long. I needn’t have worried, my date was looking at her like Charlie looked at the Sweeties in the shop window prior to visiting the chocolate factory.
Our visit to the club had the desired effect and we immediately left and got into a minicab to get back to hers in double quick time. We climbed into the back and following the usual ‘what time you on till/Have you been busy’ conversation my girl decided to get her head down for a bit of a rest. I glanced down to see her unbuttoning my fly and almost being blinded by Pedro’s rather dramatic entrance onto the scene. I reengaged our driver in conversation to take my mind off other matters ‘I see you chose the Skoda superb over a Passat, you do get a lot more for your money’ followed by various enquires over fuel consumption and servicing costs. I must admit I have no idea what his answers were, my mind was elsewhere. The noises that were coming from my crotch I was starting to wonder if my girl had snuck a slush puppy in with us, actually the numbing sensation this would have provided could have been of benefit. The asked me to guess how much his new motor had set him back, he might as well have asked me to explain the principles of quantum mechanics. ‘erm 25 grand’ I splurted out ‘Don’t be daft mate it cost me five’ I have never cared so little about the cost of a motor. Thank god we were home….
We pulled up to her house and I was physically dragged through her front door and straight into the dining room. As a kid whenever I saw a game of football I would always take my ball out into the garden and imagine in my head that I was Ian Rush or John Barnes and re-enact whatever they had done in the game, well as it turns out strip clubs have a similar effect on this lady, in here head she was now a superstar stripper. She sat me down on a dining chair, tying my hands behind me and climbing up onto the table. She gyrated and disrobed slowly and drunkenly, not in perfect time with the background music but let’s face it, I wasn’t giving points for artistic merit. She dropped back supported by one hand, thrusting her groin up in a MC Hammer style, giving me a gynaecologist’s view of her ‘Blinking horse’s eye’ . One thrust proved to be too many and I heard an almighty crack, It was immediately apparent that however much I was enjoying her routine, her furniture was not such a fan. One of the legs on the table had dislodged and sent her tumbling towards me. It also was soon clear that the table was not the only thing to give way, unfortunately for me her bladder had too. I was soaked, warm, but soaked. She scrambled to her feet to untie me, apologising as she did it profusely and sliding along the laminate flooring and trying to regain her footing like she was dong the running man, sobbing as she did. I laughed a lot and tried to comfort her but it turns out girls are keen on being hugged by a piss covered man, wherever it originated from!
The moral of this tale? Leave it to the professionals, or at the very least invest in a Vileda Supermop.
I’ve been considering writing this one for a while but was unsure because it is a bit strong and anyone that knows me will tell you that if it’s strong by my standards then it must be pretty horrific by normal standards. So, with that in mind if you have a heart condition, suspect you may be pregnant or are easily offended please look away now. Then again if you are a dirty pervert read on!!
Happy Birthday to me!!
It was September of…..actually I’ll keep the year to myself because if not I’m sure some of you would be able to deduct who the star of this story is, I will retain said lady’s anonymity for reasons that will soon become clear. Anyway! It was September and my birthday was approaching and the lady in my life at the time said she had planned a surprise for me. I was to drop my car off at her house along with my jim jams and a toothbrush and she would take care of the rest. A taxi came to collect us and we went off to the finest restraint in Doncaster, I was a bit disappointed when this turned out not to be Burger Jim’s but I appreciated it none the less. We drank wine and scoffed down some steak then she paid and led me to the next destination, the Purple Door. Now anyone from Doncaster will know of this establishment but for those of you that don’t it is, well, a strip club. We walked in and took a seat and I was keen not to show my delight but inside I’m sure even my appendix was getting an erection. My partner then asked me to choose……I’m not sure if any other fellas out there have been in this situation but never, ever immediately point to a dancer and say in a little Britain style ‘I want that one’ I did the only thing I could think and said ‘it would be so much better if you chose’. She looked around as if she was looking at the shampoo selection on the shelf at Tesco and eventually picked out a tall brunette and took me by the hand and followed her into a booth. I felt like a teenager seeing his first set of chonkers but very wary about letting my gaze lay on her for too long. I needn’t have worried, my date was looking at her like Charlie looked at the Sweeties in the shop window prior to visiting the chocolate factory.
Our visit to the club had the desired effect and we immediately left and got into a minicab to get back to hers in double quick time. We climbed into the back and following the usual ‘what time you on till/Have you been busy’ conversation my girl decided to get her head down for a bit of a rest. I glanced down to see her unbuttoning my fly and almost being blinded by Pedro’s rather dramatic entrance onto the scene. I reengaged our driver in conversation to take my mind off other matters ‘I see you chose the Skoda superb over a Passat, you do get a lot more for your money’ followed by various enquires over fuel consumption and servicing costs. I must admit I have no idea what his answers were, my mind was elsewhere. The noises that were coming from my crotch I was starting to wonder if my girl had snuck a slush puppy in with us, actually the numbing sensation this would have provided could have been of benefit. The asked me to guess how much his new motor had set him back, he might as well have asked me to explain the principles of quantum mechanics. ‘erm 25 grand’ I splurted out ‘Don’t be daft mate it cost me five’ I have never cared so little about the cost of a motor. Thank god we were home….
We pulled up to her house and I was physically dragged through her front door and straight into the dining room. As a kid whenever I saw a game of football I would always take my ball out into the garden and imagine in my head that I was Ian Rush or John Barnes and re-enact whatever they had done in the game, well as it turns out strip clubs have a similar effect on this lady, in here head she was now a superstar stripper. She sat me down on a dining chair, tying my hands behind me and climbing up onto the table. She gyrated and disrobed slowly and drunkenly, not in perfect time with the background music but let’s face it, I wasn’t giving points for artistic merit. She dropped back supported by one hand, thrusting her groin up in a MC Hammer style, giving me a gynaecologist’s view of her ‘Blinking horse’s eye’ . One thrust proved to be too many and I heard an almighty crack, It was immediately apparent that however much I was enjoying her routine, her furniture was not such a fan. One of the legs on the table had dislodged and sent her tumbling towards me. It also was soon clear that the table was not the only thing to give way, unfortunately for me her bladder had too. I was soaked, warm, but soaked. She scrambled to her feet to untie me, apologising as she did it profusely and sliding along the laminate flooring and trying to regain her footing like she was dong the running man, sobbing as she did. I laughed a lot and tried to comfort her but it turns out girls are keen on being hugged by a piss covered man, wherever it originated from!
The moral of this tale? Leave it to the professionals, or at the very least invest in a Vileda Supermop.
