Tag Archives: wank

The Daughter of Bob Geldof

1 Sep

I’d always secretly fancied Peaches Geldof since she first started appearing in the newspapers at 16. I’m not sure if it was the trying-desperately-hard-to-be-cool aura she gave off, or the fact that she looked as if she’d let you wank into her handbag without batting an eyelid.Yes, she wasn’t the type of girl I’d typically go for, but there was definitely something about her that I found most alluring, and so, I had a big crush. With her being the daughter of one of the most famous men in the country, and the fact she’d started the make a name for herself as a ‘celebrity’, I knew my chances of anything happening (should we ever meet) were incredibly low. Fate, however, works in a funny way, and it was on a sweaty summers day that I finally got my chance to chat up Peaches Geldof.

It was a Friday and I was in Camden for a meeting with a client. It was nothing too fancy; I was in casual attire and we held the meeting over a pub lunch – all went well. It went so well in fact, that an agreement was met earlier that I had expected, and so I had a couple of hours to kill, rather than go back to the office until the end of the day. I went into the Arizona Bar for a pint, whilst I perused the newspapers and contemplated what to do next. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed a girl come into the bar and ask to use the toilets. I didn’t pay too much attention to be honest; I was deep in thought. It was only when I heard the girl return that I did look up, and to my surprise it was Peaches Geldof, dressed all fashionably, with sunglasses on despite being inside, a leopard print dress and finished off with a moody pout.

‘It’s now or never’, I thought, rather hastily to myself, and I called out her name.

“Peaches!”, I shouted. She turned and looked at me as if I’d farted in her mouth.

“Erm, can I get a photo with you please?”, I enquired, rather less boisterous than my first call.

Peaches smiled almost awkwardly, and then agreed to the photo and came over to my table. As we got chatting, I lied to her about my ‘love for fashion’, and talk turned to Peaches wish to bring out her own label. I explained that I may be able to help her, and offered her a drink, which she accepted without hesitation. As we continued to chat, I forgot that I was talking to quite a famous person; to me she was just another girl down the pub, although as the drink intake increased, she was beginning to look very attractive indeed, and my confidence levels soared tenfold.

“Peaches?”, I said softly, and I began to trace my finger up her ankle, following the outline of a garish flower tattoo she had running all the way up her leg.

“Do you fancy getting a hotel room?” I continued, finger now at the top of her thigh. Peaches blushed. She tilted her head forward slightly, and then looked up at me. A smile formed across her delicate lips,

“Not yet, mister! Let’s have a few more drinks first”.

‘What a tease’, I thought, before agreeing. We made our way to another small pub, of which I don’t remember the name, where Peaches was good mates with the owner. We started on shots of sambuca; I don’t think I spent any money, much was the willingness of the bar staff to keep our drinks topped up. After an hour a so, Peaches took me by the hand and led me up some stairs at the back of the pub. I asked where we were going,

“It’s ok. I stay here a lot – I basically have my own room”, slurred Peaches. Her faux New York/London accent was turning me on something rotten. As we reached the top of the stairs, she pushed me into a room and we started kissing. It was drunken, sloppy kissing, but it was passionate. My hands began to wander, but every time I ventured south towards her cock-slot, my hands were pushed away. I had a raging erection, and I was willing Peaches to take it in one of her grubby little hands. But she wouldn’t.

We carried on kissing and I think she sensed my sexual desperation. “I’m sorry, we can’t shag”, she said, every word punctuated with a kiss. “I have a fiancee”

“Well why the fuck am I here then?” I asked. I remember feeling both angry but incredibly aroused by the fact that she’d used the word ‘shag’.

“We can watch each other?”, Peaches mumbled. Well, that was enough for me, I was naked in no time, and I slipped her out of her dress. She lay onto a bed and began strumming away like George Formby on speed, whilst I stood over her, tugging myself silly, trying to aim my pulsating bell-end at her mouth in case I had a chance of receiving a sly suck. The site of a drunken Peaches Geldof, fwapping away blissfully, was mesmerising. My whole body tensed as an arc of gooey mess shot from my rigid rod and landed on Peaches’ leg.

“THAT’S FOR ‘DO THEY KNOW IT’S CHRISTMAS?’ YOU FRIGID TWAT”, I shouted as my first release trickled off her leg onto the bed. Peaches was in a daze, but carried on rubbing her flaps slowly. I felt the urge to go again,

“AND THAT’S FOR LIVE 8, YOU SHOWER OF SHIT”, my jism landed a good foot short of hitting her again. I knew it was time to leave. I dressed hurriedly and fled, leaving Peaches half cut and half naked in the upstairs of a pub.

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Wardrobe Wank

28 Jul

Jimmy and Dave are dirty fuckers. Although they are mates of mine, I sometimes cringe at some of their behavior on nights out, particularly when they involve the opposite sex in their antics. It is no secret amongst my group of friends that Jimmy and Dave like to go ‘twos-up’ on girls. One of them will meet someone on a night out, invite them back for some horizontal liaisons, and then invite their mate to join in. It shocks me really at how many girls agree to this. Quite why Jimmy and Dave want to share their spoils with one another is anyone’s guess, but I suppose it goes to show how close they are as mates. They always regale their frolics to us the following day, and the story normally involves them hi-fiving each other at some point. Very romantic.
One particular night, Dave had got lucky with a brunette girl and had invited her back to his hotel for sex. She must have been pissed because she agreed to, and at the end of the night, Dave, Jimmy and the girl made their way back to the hotel at which the two boys were staying. Dave had taken a massive shine to this girl, and he’d made it clear to Jimmy that he wasn’t up for sharing, which wasn’t normally in his character at all. He’d met her the previous night, and although nothing had happened, he had spotted her again, chanced his luck, and scored. Now he wanted her all to himself, and no matter how much Jimmy pleaded with him on the way back, Dave wasn’t considering even asking the girl if she’d be up for it.

Although unimpressed by his mate’s lack of generosity, Jimmy agreed to wander around the hotel for a bit, whilst the two lovers got it on – the problem you see, was that they were sharing a room and therefore Dave would have no privacy. When they arrived back at the hotel, the three of them had a drink at the bar, before Dave and his beauty retreated to the bedroom. Jimmy agreed to wait at least an hour before returning, and he stayed at the bar on his own, feeling horny but with no one to help relieve the tension.
Back in the hotel room, things got saucy as soon as the newly acquainted pair fell through the door, and within no time they were rutting like animals; both working up a sweat as they let their inhibitions go. Being drunk, Dave was surprised that he’d actually managed to get an erection, but now he was firm, there was no stopping him and he found himself lasting longer than he’d ever done before. The recipient of his clunge rod was certainly not complaining, and her bacon pocket begged Dave for more and more.
Before long, both Dave and the girl were so hot that they needed to open the patio doors, which led out onto a small balcony. The room was on the top floor of the hotel, so there was little danger of anyone seeing Dave as he slid the doors open with nothing protecting his modesty. As he opened the door, Dave had a brainwave. He called over his lover and asked if she fancied a spot of alfresco sex. She didn’t hesitate and sauntered over to the balcony railing, before grabbing them, bending over so her cunny flaps were winking at Dave.
“Take me from behind”, she ordered.
Dave didn’t need to be asked twice, and he held her by the hips before entering her. This was turning out to be one of the best shags of his life.

Meanwhile, Jimmy was sat downstairs, very drunk and bored. He had looked at his watch about a hundred times, waiting for an hour to pass so he could go back to the room and get to bed. ‘They best not have done it in my bed’ he thought to himself, although secretly he didn’t mind because at least he’d be able to sniff the sheets. Eventually, after finishing his forth pint in the hotel, over an hour had passed and Jimmy decided to venture back.
When he reached the door to the room, he put his ear to it. He couldn’t hear much and guessed that Dave had finished his business and was asleep. He turned the key in the door and opened it very slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. The first thing he saw was his bed, and he noticed that it was as fresh as how he’d left it. Then he noticed that Dave’s bed was also empty. Looking further ahead of him, Jimmy saw the reason why; Dave’s bare backside was thrusting in and out as he pumped away like a Jack Russell on heat. Jimmy was suddenly turned on at what he was witnessing.

Out on the balcony, Dave was oblivious that he had been caught in the act and carried on with the job in hand, savoring every moment. Just as he was about to spray his milky treat, he heard a noise behind him, coming from inside the room. Without breaking his stride, he peered over his shoulder.

What he saw was a sight he would never be able to forget, no matter how much he tried.

Jimmy was stood just inside the door frame, against the wall. He was partially covered by a curtain but Dave could see that he was leaning against the side of a wardrobe and visibly having a wank, aiming his todger at the gap between the wall and the back of the wardrobe. Dave didn’t say a word; he just braced himself for his own climax and let out a groan of pleasure as he spilt his load. Too afraid, to traipse back inside and confront his mate, Dave was at a loss as to what to do. From behind, he hugged the girl he’d just rogered, grateful that she was unaware what was happening behind them, whilst thinking about what he should do next. Now they’d finished shagging, it was getting quite cold.

Again, Dave peered over his shoulder, and this time the scene wasn’t as bad as expected. Jimmy had finished his wank and was now crashed out on his own bed, so Dave suggested to his bit of skirt that they retire to bed, to which she agreed. She noticed Jimmy as soon as she walked through the door; it was hard not to as he was spread out like a starfish, face down, with his trousers and boxer shorts still pulled down around his ankles. Dave had to reassure her that Jimmy was so drunk he wouldn’t have even noticed them outside.
The next morning, once Dave had ushered his conquest out of the hotel room, he woke Jimmy and asked him what the fuck he was playing at the night before. Jimmy’s head was pounding and his mind was hazy and he struggled to remember much. Dave told him to think hard whilst he went and showered. Ten minutes later, Dave emerged from the bathroom.
“Dave”, said Jimmy.
“Yes mate?”
“Did I have a wank behind the wardrobe last night?
“You know you did you dirty fucker! Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was a dream”
“You are a sick bastard”.

Jimmy has managed to refrain from wanking behind wardrobes since the incident, but one does wonder why he chose such a place to aim his pecker. What a strange man.

Big Ginger Blanket

23 Jun

Craig had always been a bit simple. He was a good lad, lacking severely in common sense, but that’s why I liked him so much. Nights out were better when Craig was around.
I’d been seeing Natalie for a few weeks, things were ok; I think we both knew it was nothing serious. On the Friday night of this particular tale, I had a bit of a dilemma on my hands. Natalie wanted me to go out for drinks with her and then back to hers for a game of hide the sausage, but Craig had already asked me to go out on the lash with him. Not one for standing up my mates, especially after already committing myself, but not wanting to miss out on the chance of getting my willy wet, I decided to compromise. I asked Natalie to bring along a friend, and we’d all go out together.

At 7 o’clock, I went to Craig’s for a couple of beers before we went to the pub. As usual, Craig was in good spirits and looking forward to the night ahead.

“Who’s Natalie bringing out then?” Craig enquired.

“I’m not sure actually, I could ring her if you want?”

“Nah, no point, we’re meant to be meeting them soon. I’ll wait and see. I hope she’s fit”.

“Well I’ve met two of her mates and they’re both nice”, I said, lying.

We got to the pub and got a drink in each. The girls were running late (as usual) so we found a table and waited, passing comments on the various people coming in and out of the pub. By the time the girls eventually showed up, we were on our forth pint.

“Hi guys, sorry we’re late. This is my friend Sandra by the way”.

To say Craig was disappointed when he saw Sandra would be an understatement. He was gutted. She was, to put it nicely, hideous. She was very fat, with at least one band of blubber hanging over the top of her jeans. Her head was quite big, and red, and she had garish ginger hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed for a while. She reminded me of a ginger Grotbags. Her hair clashed quite spectacularly with her bright pink t-shirt.

“We’ll get the drinks in”, I said, pulling Craig up from his chair and to his feet.
At the bar, Craig was in a sombre mood.
“I was hoping to get a shag tonight”, he garbled, knocking back his drink.
“You still can, mate, Sandra’s probably up for it”, I teased.

“Fuck you”.

The night went well. We all sat and chatted and had a good laugh. Sandra, for all her shortcomings in the looks department, was good fun, and was drinking pints at an alarming speed. In between drinks, we downed shots and before long, we were all in a sorry state. Natalie suggested we carry on the session back at her place, so we left the pub and jumped in a taxi.
Back at hers, we moved onto vodka; Craig was having neat shots, whilst the rest of us mixed it with orange juice. I sensed Natalie was eager to get to bed, so we made our excuses. Sandra said that she was going to stay up for a while, whilst Craig didn’t really know what was going on, he seemed to be happy where he was, sprawled on a chair. Natalie tossed him a blanket and said that he could kip on her sofa, and then we went upstairs to her room.

I woke the next morning with my head pounding. Natalie was already up and dressed, and urging me to get up.
“Turn the fucking light off, Natalie. What time is it?”
“Nearly 10. Haven’t you got football today?”
She was right. I dragged myself out of the bed, slung my clothes on and staggered downstairs. Crag was awake, sat in the same chair, fully clothed. I didn’t think he’d got changed for bed and had just slept where he fell asleep.

“I was wondering when you’d be up, mate. Come on, let’s go”, he said as I walked into the front room.
“What did you get up to then?” I probed.
“Just ring a taxi, I’ll tell you on the way”.

Ten minutes later, we were climbing into a taxi. I’d said bye to Natalie, but there was no sign of Sandra, who had slept in the spare room. As soon as the taxi door closed, I asked Craig to spill the beans.

“Well”, he began. “You know I was fucking hammered, right? Well, I think I might have shagged Sandra last night”

“What do you mean, you think you shagged her. You either did or you didn’t?

“I can’t remember! I was that drunk. But I do know that I woke up this morning next to her and that she was naked”

“You must have shagged her then! Ha-ha! Nice one, Craigy!”

“It gets worse mate”

“Oh, yes, please go on”. I waited with great anticipation. What could top Craig shafting Sandra?

“Well this morning, I woke up and looked at her, and she was laying there snoring like a big fat pig. She looked horrible, but I was feeling a bit horny. So…so… I had a wank over her big ginger carpet”.

“HAA! And she didn’t mind?”

“Well, she was still asleep wasn’t she? So, she still doesn’t know”

“You dirty bastard” was the only response I could come up with; the image of a naked Sandra was now firmly imprinted in my mind, making my hangover a million times worse.

“Please don’t say anything to Natalie”, begged Craig.

I promised I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. I still haven’t to this day. I did however tell all the boys at football that afternoon, and it earned Craig a new nickname; The Phantom Spunker.

Naked Surprise

11 Feb

A few years back, after a particularly boozy works party, I found myself in the unfamiliar and quite seedy surroundings of a Premier Inn hotel room. Swaying about the room in a drunken haze, I decided that the best course of action would be, of course, to get completely naked. Off came my clothes, as I did my own sensual striptease to no one in particular, using the music from the Channel 5 smash hit TV program Quiz Call which I had on in the background. I seem to recall swinging my shirt around my head before flinging it against the wall, and as I slipped out of my jeans, I lost my coordination and balance, and fell face first against the bed – thank fuck there was no one around to see me. Fortunately, it was quite a soft landing, despite the fact it was a hotel mattress.
Undeterred by my stripping shortcomings, I removed my boxer shorts and stood proudly in front of the mirror. Something wasn’t quite right, ahh yes, my socks! I whipped them off in a flash and sat on the bed, at this point unsure of what I was going to do next. Afterall, I had countless options! I could choose to watch Quiz Call, I could walk around naked for a bit, I could go and be sick if I really tried, or I could half a half-hearted attempt at a wank.
I decided that, in my state, Quiz Call seemed the most appropriate course of action. It was actually quite good, and I contemplated phoning in myself.

“Ok, so we’re looking for words that can follow ‘Hand’”, the annoying male presenter shouted at me through the screen. Surely ‘job’ would be one of them, I thought to myself, feeling smug that no one else would phone in and say that, thus missing out on a whopping £500. However, as I watched and noticed that no one was getting a correct answer, I decided against wasting my phone bill, instead getting more vocal and angry at the show because no one was getting a correct answer. Before long, I was in a bit of a rage, shouting at the nauseous presenter through the glass of the TV screen, calling him all manner of things, mainly a ‘fucking twat’.

It was then that things took a turn for the worse. There was a knock at the door. ‘Who could that be?’ I thought to myself, before getting to my feet to answer it. As I stood up, I stumbled slightly, forgetting that I was still quite drunk. I ambled over to the bedroom door and pulled it open.

“Yes, what’s up?”, I enquired, in a quite cheery fashion.

The woman, in her late 40s, that was outside my room looked me up and down, very slowly. Then she looked down again. It was at this point I remembered that I didn’t have any clothes on. It probably wasn’t helped by the fact that I was propping the door open with my foot, and had my hands resting on my hips. I felt like a filthy pervert, but felt that I had to carry on to save face.

“Can I help at all?” I asked again.

The lady looked up at my face, struggling to make eye contact with me.

“Erm, yes, er sorry. Can you keep the noise down please? It’s a bit loud in here?”

I looked around behind me, hands still sat proudly on my hips, my flaccid cock free for the lady to view.

“No problem”, I smiled, before closing the door. I’m sure I saw her roll her eyes before she walked away.

I went and turned the TV off, and did what I should have done in the first place. I had a rubbish wank

Rejection

6 Oct

She turned me down and my heart it sank,
But I added her to my wank bank.
So I think I’ve had the last laugh, no doubt,
Cos I think of her when I rub one out

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