Erotic Lumberjack Adventures

Chad Sexington 09:30 12/Jun/09

The Kinky Veterinarian

Being somewhat of a travelled man, I have come across quite a few creatures of the night in my time. From timid little things to bellowing behemoths, I have shagged them all. Sit down and Uncle Chad will tell you of the story of the kinky veterinarian.

Her name was Jenny and she was a country girl. Loved her country music and horses and the like. She was also dynamite in the sack. The first night we got it on she told me the night was all about my pleasure. I wasn’t to touch her or do anything to her but sit back and enjoy the ride. And enjoy the ride I did. She was enthusiastic and quite flexible and had the “I crave cock” look in her eye. In fact the only time my dick wasn’t in her mouth it was deep in her lady-bits. I thought “we have a winner here, Chad” to myself. Never have I seen a girl repeatedly ask for a mouthful of man juice before. She’d even get a bit angry if I didn’t throw a load down her throat.

A few weeks went by and Jenny started falling for me. I tried to tell her I wasn’t into having a relationship because my lumberjack job takes me all over the country. It was then that she started getting a bit of kink on. One night we were shagging away and she pulls out a vibrator and before I could ask “where the fuck is that going” in an anxious voice, she’d shoved it to the hilt up her arse.

This was something new. Something exciting. I didn’t think much of it.

Then other weird things started happening. I’d gone for a run. A jaunt in the woods, you know, getting some exercise and when I came back she was pleasuring herself on the couch. Okay. This is cool. But before I could join her she said “you look sweaty. Take your clothes off”. She then, and younglings I am not exaggerating here, proceeded to lick my body. Not just my sweaty arms and legs but every nook and cranny. You know when you go running and your balls and groin are just coated in sweat? Yeah, well Jenny licked that up. You know when sweat drips down your arse crack and pools around your shitter? Yeah, Jenny got stuck into it there as well. Quite possibly the weirdest thing I have ever done.

On one hand I am thinking “This feels kind of nice” as she slurped my man sweat while jerking me off.

But on the other hand I was thinking “this girl is a complete gronk. How many guys has she done this too”.

Then she wanted to kiss me. Passionately.

That’s when I drew the line. Well there and the fact that she had repeatedly asked me if it would be cool if she fucked me with a strap on.

“No, Jenny. No it isn’t cool”

She still lives in Brisbane. Looks after sick dogs and cats. Probably still craves man-juice too. She also possesses what I believe is the largest porn mag and DVD collection ever owned by someone without a penis. This is, of course, another story to be told one day.

Chad Sexington 09:31 12/Jun/09

Putting on a Show for Gollum

So here’s another one. I went out with this girl for a year or so. Her name was Tanya and she was from Mullumbimby. Lovely town. Full of hippies, ferals and trees. We met after she’d moved to Brisbane and hit it off straight away. She was about 5’8, skinny (but not sick looking) and covered in lovely tattoos. She also had a lot of weird friends.

One night she rings me up and asks if I want to come over. She’d been drinking with a friend of hers and wanted to introduce me to her. I bounded over like an excited puppy and had a few drinks with them. Her friend (Gen) was a nice girl if a little plain. She was from Coffs Harbour and was visiting friends in Brisbane for a week. Well after a few drinks, these girls were pretty sloshed by the way, I discovered that poor young Gen was in a nasty relationship. Her boyfriend treated her like shit, hit her and basically never tended to her needs. She started crying saying she wanted to leave him and I put on the concerned lumberjack façade and gave her a hug.

It was getting late and Tanya and I crawled into bed leaving Gen in the spare room. We started getting down and dirty, kissing and fondling and then Tanya said something a bit weird “Gen wants to watch us have sex”.

I said “What? That’s a bit weird” but who am I to question someone’s weird fetish. Tanya told me that she was going to sit outside and watch us through the window from the veranda. This was one of those Queenslander type houses in Paddington so the veranda went around ¾ of the house. Sure enough, I was lying there getting an exquisite blow job from this hippy princess and I notice movement from outside. We had candles lit in the bedroom so I could see an outline of a girl watching. It was Gen and she was getting an eyeful. I didn’t think much of it and continued my business. I had rolled Tanya over and was “dining at the Y” when I heard a sound. Just a soft rustling sound but a sound. In the room.

I turned slowly and there was Gen. Standing no more than 3 feet away, hand down her pants. Tanya looked up and said “Hi, enjoying yourself?”. Gen said “I sure am. Do you mind”. I certainly fucking didn’t mind. Gen then hopped into bed, on the other side. I was stoked, I was going to get some threesome action. I went to touch her but Gen grabbed my hand and said “No touching. I don’t want to cheat on my man. I just want to watch”


Her boyfriend belts her left, right and centre. Treats her like crap but she won’t let a hairy lumberjack touch her? I was a little put off but kept at my job and I must say it was a little unnerving to be pounding seven kinds of crap out of your lady with another girl just watching, no more than 30cm away. At one stage I had Tanya’s legs over my shoulders and was driving home the railway spike and Gen changed views. I turned around and fuck me dead if she isn’t doing the David Attenborough behind me. She was crouched down…head between my legs watching my dick. Her face was about 10cm from my balls. She was even doing a running commentary. “Oh yeah, I like this view. I can see it all. Wow that looks amazing. Gee that’s deep” etc etc.

I finished my business and she scurried out of the room like Gollum. When I woke up in the morning she’d left but Tanya told me she’s basically fudded herself stupid until about 3am after our show.

That was the last I ever heard of the incident.

Chad Sexington 09:33 12/Jun/09

Chad Visits the Grand Canyon

I’m a worldly man. I’ve bedded many types of women. I do have a penchant for the older lady. They tend to know what they want and have no qualms asking for it. I met this lady at a friends party. Her name was Sue and she was easily 40. Maybe a little older. At least 10 years older than me. But she was tight. She was quite the athlete and regularly ran half marathons. We hit it off straight away and ended up going home together.

In the cab she can’t keep her hands off me and I get a little embarrassed as I just know the cab driver is listening. Cheeky Iranian bastard! Anyway we get back to her place in Spring Hill. I don’t like bringing girls back to the Cave as it means I have to shoo them out in the morning. It sounds harsh but lets face it, after a one night stand the last thing you want to be doing is having an in depth conversation about world events in the morning. Plus, the notion of sneaking out of a house makes me excited.

We start getting it on and one thing becomes apparent. Chad Sexington is a little out of his depth. This is a big call but this cougar was insatiable. The moment I knew I was dealing with a seasoned sex veteran was the exact second she sucked not only my cock but both of my balls into her mouth. For those of you who haven’t tried this, I am not going to recommend it. It’s a weird sensation. Sitting there with your entire junk in a girls mouth and she slurps away. She was also quite rough which is something that I am okay with but when a girl says to you “fuck my throat” you tend to blink in a confused way.

The bummer part of the evening was when we went to do the deed. I didn’t have a ring-dinger. Neither did she. I briefly entertained the idea of inserting my hard penis into her anus but she said “that’s for guys I REALLY like”. Instead I went down on her which was fun for all parties involved and then she requested a few fingers. I inserted one, then two fingers. She was rather happy with this and asked for another. I inserted a third and started thinking “this is kind of cool”. Without saying anything I slipped in the fourth finger and kept doing my thing. Now, I have large hands. Not freakishly large, but large enough that people sometimes say “Gee you have large hands”. The fact I could throw four fingers up to the base of my thumb into this girls spadge was a little freaky. I slowed down the speed and I got in trouble. She said “no, not like that” and grabbed my forearm and just started flogging herself with my hand.

I was like Mike Tyson in a sparring bout. Except instead of a rookie boxer, I was punching what was starting to resemble a sloppy mango that has been stood on in the supermarket. Don’t get me wrong. I was loving it. I was getting right into it. Dirty talking. Telling her to take what I was giving her. Occasionally poking her puckered bunghole with my spare hand. Really playing the part.

All good things come to an end and she obliged me with a very skilled hand job with added mouth. I saw her several times after the near-fisting episode and we even shagged. I was amazed that I could actually feel anything while I was having sex but her vagina had the elastic nature of a trampoline. She could even do tricks with it like pick up a pencil and fire it across the room. In the end I started liking her vagina more than I liked her which isn’t healthy and she dumped me.

Chad Sexington 09:35 12/Jun/09

Welcome to Browntown. Population: Me

As some of you might have guessed from my previous couple of stories, I am no stranger to kinky sex. Sure, I don’t mind getting all vanilla and making sweet love to a lady I adore, but when the opportunity arises to do something a little freaky, well this lumberjack comes running.

A few years ago I was living in Melbourne. I was working for a nice large firm which gave me a bit of leeway when it came to clocking in and out of work. I had a company car and would sometimes just go and cruise the shops. At one shopping centre, Westfield Doncaster to be exact, I started becoming known to the sales assistants of a particular clothing chain. I’d go in, try on some pants and a shirt, exchange witty comments for giggles and then leave. This continued for some time until one day a gorgeous girl by the name of Amanda asked me if I wanted to get some coffee. Not one to turn down a bit of flirting, I joined her for a hot cuppa and started chatting. She was 32. Lived down the road. Was studying uni part time and had a kid. She was also quite the smoking hottie. She was blonde, about 5’6 with a nice looking chest and an arse you’d swim through shark infested water to eat your lunch out of.

My kind of girl, really. The only issue was she was married. Yes, married. We had coffee a couple of times a week and I started wondering what her motives were. I’m not usually one to cut another guy’s grass so I started to back off but the signals she was sending out just screamed “I need your cock in me now!”. We’re talking grooming me, touching my arm, long hugs, getting me to check if anyone can see her g-string through her pants. You know, the usual “lets get fucking talk”.

One thing led to another and she rang me to say she had a day off and wanted to catch up. This time coffee at her place. Okay. That sounds like a plan. I rocked up to her house at about 10 in the morning. I told my boss I had a bunch of meetings and would be in later in the afternoon and waltzed on in to a lovely middle class home in the suburbs. She met me at the front door in a dressing gown and said “oh tee hee…I haven’t even gotten changed”. Lets just say it took about 2 minutes before she was naked and climbing all over me.

She led me down the hallway and I saw a few pictures of her and her husband. I started getting cold feet because he was a rather large looking man who looked like he’d glass people just for kicks. One picture was of him and a bunch of mates at a kick boxing tournament. Oh great. Just super. She assured me that he was at work and that he wasn’t due home until at least 7pm. I put this knowledge to the back of my mind and got to work on this tight piece of arse.

Now kiddies, I am going to tell you something I am a little ashamed of. Chad Sexington pretty much always indulges in safe sex. I say pretty much because this means that once or twice I have dipped my wick in an orifice without the right protection. Not something to be proud of and I can’t justify it. So let’s move on.

Amanda proved to be not only a hot looking little creature but also an absolute insatiable monster in the sack. She’d come twice in ten minutes. And she wanted more. This was awesome. I couldn’t do any wrong. She was also a little kinky as I found out as I was doing her from behind and commenting on her perfect arse.

“Do you want to do me up the arse?”

You know what, Amanda, I think I do. I think I do. She handed me some lube and I got all greasy. She pulled a vibrator out and started working on her front while I eased my dick into her butt. Being a seasoned sodomy veteran I took it easy until she looked over her shoulder, all flushed, and said “you can go harder if you want”.

Well. I didn’t need to be told twice, so I started throwing everything into this performance. Now usually when you compare an anal sex scene in a porno movie to what actually happens in real life things tend to be different. Well, not with Amanda. I was slamming my dick in there with all my might, all the while hooting and hollering like I was at a rodeo. It was probably this hooting and hollering that made me miss it but Amanda said “stop! Fucking stop!! Holy shit, it’s my husband”.

Sure enough, Captain Knockyourteethout out had come home. She’d heard his car pull up in the driveway. What the fuck was I going to do. I dismounted like a Polish gymnast (forgetting to salute the judges) and did an anxious dance like Mr Bean flailing on fire. “Quick, get in the walk in” Amanda urged at me. I ran straight into the walk in wardrobe and hid, naked as the day I was born, amongst some jackets and assorted winter clothes. I then thought “Fuck! My clothes” but Amanda had shoved them under the bed and crawled under the doona.

The bouncer wannabe came into the bedroom and said he’d forgotten his safety boots and then started muttering something about Amanda still being in bed. She then told him that she was horny and showed him the vibrator and fuck me if they didn’t start getting it on right there. 3 metres away from where I was hidden. In a wardrobe. I just hoped he wasn’t a stayer and would finish quickly.

It was then I noticed the smell. It smelt like the public toilets at a shopping centre the day senior citizens are let out of the retirement village. I looked down in the gloom and noticed that my usually immaculate cock was covered in a fine sheen of faeces. Awesome. I had shit all over my dick. I tried to put the smell out of my mind but fuck me it was bad. It was so bad I started retching. Little retches. Trying to be quiet while some gorilla fucked this hot girl an arms reach away. I found some old stockings in a boot and wiped my cock with that but FUCK! I got some on my finger. I started feeling really sick and wiped my finger on a suede jacket hanging down. Fuck I was going to throw up.

It was at this point that old mate was getting right into it. I thought I was loud in bed but this jarhead was screaming like one of those Mexican soccer commentators. Really going at it. I noticed that he was reaching his climax so I timed it, and I am fucking proud of what I did. Just as he yelled out “Ohhhh Gaaaaaaaaawd!!!” I threw up into a shoe. A sneaker. One of his, I assume. It wasn’t a big barf but just the coffee and muffin I had earlier. Straight into the shoe. No one heard me and he got up, went and cleaned up and said he was going to leave. “Just got to get me boots”

Fucking boots. Where was I again? In the walk in wardrobe. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! By some small stroke of luck his boots were just outside the wardrobe door and I could clearly see a large simian arm, covered in thick hair, reach down and pick them up. I prayed he wouldn’t smell the shit or vomit or the steaming stench of anxious-man but he grabbed his boots and left. I waited until I could hear his car start up before I relaxed. Amanda rushed over, opened up the walk in door and there I was, in the foetal position, slowly rocking back and forth, like a hairy naked Ann Frank.

She apologised, standing there, hair astray looking like she’d done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. She came over, kissed me (I swear I flinched a little at this point) and said “Let me have a shower and I’ll clean myself up. Then we can get back to what we were doing”

“Uh, okay”

I waited until I heard the shower start up then grabbed my clothes and fled like the scared pussy little man I was. That’s what you get for fucking around with another guy’s lady. I never saw Amanda again because I never went back to Westfield Doncaster.
I sure hope she didn’t notice the vomit.

Or the shit on her jacket

Justin Sawell 09:35 12/Jun/09


Chad Sexington 09:36 12/Jun/09

Chad gets Hosed

Here’s a little story from about 6 years ago. I had met this girl online. Some random chat site where you can talks crap to a bunch of like minded weirdos. Not unlike this one, really. In between talking about the merits of the metric and imperial system and whether or not the pyramids were created by aliens (they were) with random Americans, I found Kim. Kim was also from Brisbane and seemed like a cool chick. We started chatting on MSN and one thing led to another, as it always does at 1am on a Tuesday night, and we started talking about sex.

Kim seemed like a worldly girl. Very experienced for a young girl. 22 years old to be exact and my loins started throbbing as she told me of her various sexual conquests. I had to have her. She wasn’t particularly good looking, kind of piggy faced and not a small build either. A little chunky and tall which isn’t what I usually go for but she was a nice lass and we decided to meet. We met at a local pub and she was a little more horrific than her pictures showed but there was something about her that was alluring.

Think scene girl back in 2003 and add a few kilograms. She was covered in piercings and had some awesome tatts. One of them ran the length of her thigh and she had no qualms about showing me how far up it went right there in the pub. She was dead set keen for some lumberjack action so I suggested a cheeky vodka back at my place. We get back to the Cave, and as I said I don’t really like bringing girls back to my den of debauchery but she was different. We got along well and she was a little on the kinky side. Just my type.

We go in and make some small talk and I make some nice vodka, lime and sodas in a tall glass. Things were getting awkward and for once I found myself tongue tied. She then said “are you shy because you want to fuck me”. Well goddamn if I didn’t throw my drink at the wall and start pawing at her then and there. It was then I found out the extent of her piercings. Tongue? Check. Both nipples? Check. Clit hood? Check. Both labia? Fucking check. Sticking my hand in her sopping panties was like fumbling around in Grandma’s change purse. That is how much jingling was going on.

We retired to the bedroom and I start going downtown. She stops me and I’m thinking “oh man, here we go. I’m going to get blocked”. But she said “you should know that I get a little crazy when guys eat me out. And I squirt”.

Yeah. Awesome. I just mumbled something about respecting her limits. Mumbled because I had a mouth full of vagina. Sure enough after a few minutes she was practically levitating off the bed. I’m holding her down and she’s growling and groaning like some sort of naked tattooed zombie. She then pushes me head further south and says “go on, eat my arse”. Not one to disappoint a girl I start giving her the rim job from hell when all hell breaks loose. She starts bucking. Shaking and then whoosh. I get sprayed in the eye and ear (I really need to draw a diagram here to explain the angle of my head) with a load of lady-juice. Right in the fucking eye. It stings bad but she’s holding onto my head in a vice-like grip. I can’t get out. I’m tapping like a pro-wrestler in a submission lock but she won’t let go. I try screaming but my mouth is full of her arse.

I start panicking but then she slowly relaxes. My neck is fucking sore from being clamped and my eye is stinging like a bitch. Add to that I had vagina-sap in my ear. I’m banging my head like a little kid trying to clear his head after being dumped in the surf. She apologises and then proceeds to give me quite possibly the best blowjob in the world. One of those ones that after you’ve thrown some ball yoghurt down her throat she keeps sucking, so I stay hard. We went to sleep in each others arms but she molested me twice more that night.

She started getting a bit weird over the next month or so but we ended up coming to a ‘fuck-buddy’ agreement and for a couple of months there I’d leave my door open on a Saturday night and she’s stumble in drunk at 2am and get me hard by eating my arse. It was her thing. Again, who am I to question someone’s sexual antics.

In the times we shagged, her convulsing resulted in a broken bed, ripped off head board, ripped sheets, a hole in the wall and too many stained sheets to mention.

She now lives in Sydney and is married to some hot shot DJ.

Lucky man.

Chad Sexington 09:39 12/Jun/09

Fire in the Hole!

I mentioned this girl on another thread and it jogged some memories. Some really good memories and once decidedly bad one which ended our relationship. He name was Andrea and she was a young naïve little minx. Just my type. We met through a mutual friend at a party. She was 18 and I was 27. Yes, I am a dirty fucker. She was petite up top, with nice pert boobs and long dark hair. She also possessed possibly the largest arse on the planet. Not big and lump but perfectly round and smackable. Needless to say we hit it off and we went back to my house where I smashed seven kinds of shit out of her. I was a drunk and selfish lover (vodka does this to you) and basically fucked her like I was in the Olympics and Steve Macavaney was calling me home down the back straight. I had no idea she was a virgin at the time and I doubt she’ll ever forget her first time. I felt bad but figured the best course of attack was to ignore her and run away.

Yes, I am a bad man.

18 months on and I am out in the Valley with friends and who do I bump into? Lovely Andrea. Her with the booty from Mars. We hit it off again and I apologised for my actions and she said it was all cool and I had taught her a lot and would it be alright if she stayed with me that night. Being a perpetual bachelor I told her that I wasn’t keen for a relationship but I was keen to satisfy her urges. She was down with that, bless her cotton socks. That night was the first of many awesome nights. She was very skilled at giving blowjobs, had a vagina with which she was able to milk me like a cow and, of course, this big slappable booty. She was also rather adventurous in bed but there was one thing she wasn’t really into.

She was cumophobic. This is a word I have made up because I don’t actually know the real name for it. She was absolutely terrified of semen. Now of course semen is able to carry nasty germs with it and has been known, on a few occasions, to cause random outbreaks of babies but her hatred wasn’t rational. She wasn’t worried about babies or diseases or the like because we often shagged without a condom (she was on the pill) but when I got close to eruption she’d get this hard look in her eye and say “don’t you fucking come in me or on me”. This caused quite the conundrum because I love nothing better than planting my seed deep inside a woman. There’s something natural and wonderful about sharing an orgasm while in each other’s arms, staring blissfully into each other’s eyes.

There’s certainly nothing natural and wonderful about her screaming “arrgh…get it out of me…arrrgh..” while you viciously clutch your penis like a grenade with the pin pulled out trying to find a nice place to sit and enjoy your climax. No sir. I never understood what the hatred was all about and I never found out but having to “finish off” in the bathroom isn’t what I’d call a great sexual experience.

However, Chad Sexington isn’t one to back away from a challenge. After a couple of months of sexual encounters I had moved from ejaculating in the bathroom like a naughty little boy to coming onto a towel right next to us to actually coming inside her. She ended up loving it after I pointed out how romantic it was. Strike a win up to Mr. Sexington. I should have left the challenge there, but oh no, I had to take it one step further.

I wanted to come on her.

Now I don’t think I am alone in spraying my seed like a horny tomcat all over my lovers. In fact I have met quite a few women who get off on it just as much as I do. So, my next challenge was to convince Andrea to let me come on her stomach or on her ample juicy arse. One night we had a few drinks, shared a joint and got our groove thing on. We fuck for ages and things were getting heavy. I’ve got one of her legs over my shoulders and in between moans of delight she whispers in my ear “I want you to come on me tonight. I want to feel your hot come on my body”.

Excellent. Chad had won again. She then said “I just don’t want it anywhere near my face, okay”. Of course I agreed. The time came and I started getting the knee trembles and told her “here it comes” and pulled my throbbing todger out of her gooey girl-hole and aimed.

Before I go on, we need to discuss a topic. Some of you might be aware of it but other might not. At that time in my life I was into a sexual practice called “edging”. Edging is the act of bringing yourself super close to orgasm but then backing off. It’s a hard thing to do but the end results of an hour or two of edging can be awesome. We’re talking really long powerful orgasms. Ones where you growl in a guttural way which harkens back to when we were cavemen eating mammoth testicles. Some girls love edging because it means a session will go for a longer period and include more foreplay and multiple orgasms.

One other effect associated with edging is super powerful ejaculations.

And this is what happened.

Let’s recap. I am poised, slippery penis in hand ready to unleash my goo on Andrea’s stomach. Andrea is watching with anticipation, one hand holding my arm the other fiddling with her lady bits. Now when I usually come, I only fire a short distance. And usually only once followed by smaller oozings of jism. I think you know what I am about to say.

I fired a fucking salvo that wouldn’t have been out of sorts in the famous navel battle of Midway Island in World War Two. The first shot didn’t hit her stomach. Nowhere close. It went straight into her eye. Blam. A load of hot cum right in her left eye. She screamed loud “Aaaargh fuck!” and her arm holding my hand moved which meant the next salvo went right into her open gob. Right into her mouth. “Glaaaaarb!” she screamed again. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t move. This orgasm had been building since she started rubbing my dick while watching a DVD hours earlier. There was no stopping this assault. It was like Operation Desert Storm. Buttons had been pressed, things were in motion. People were going to get hurt. Immediately following the first two salvos were two others. Less powerful but still packing some distance. One went up her nose and the other straight into her luscious long brown hair.

I think, in the end, I managed to dribble some onto her stomach which meant that the objective was met and it wasn’t my fault if friendly fire had taken out a few casualties. I tried to explain this as she vomited in the shower while trying to get sperm out of her hair.
We didn’t see much of each other after that. Don’t know why.

Chad Sexington 09:40 12/Jun/09

At a Swingers Party No One Can Hear You Scream

I once went to a swingers party. Held once a month in this nice looking house in Spring Hill. I went with a lovely girl called Lisa. She was keen to check it out and I just tagged along. I had recently broken up with a long term girlfriend and Lisa had helped me get over the heartache. When I say get over I mean she shagged me silly. Lisa lived out at Wellington Point and was a manager of a large car/auto retail shop. A bit of a bogan but a nice girl. Plus she was bisexual.

She suggested we go to a swingers party because it was something she was keen to try once in her life. After much cajoling I agreed. Plus, because we were a couple we got in cheaper than a single desperate guy would. It was a Friday night and I got home from work and cleaned myself up. Wood chips can be a bastard to get out of your hair. Lisa turned up in her souped up Nissan 200SX wearing a very short skirt and a revealing top. There was no doubting what she was looking for that night. Group sex and lots of it.

We found the address after a few wrong turns and got some Dutch courage by sharing a fat joint in the car before going in. I had no idea what to expect. I had visions of a room full of scantily clad nymphs and horny men pawing at them while sipping French champagne from vagina shaped glasses. Boy, I couldn’t have been further from the truth. We walked in and Lisa said to me “Chad, have we got the right address?” I was wearing a nicely cut suit and she was done up to the nines.

It looked like we’d walked into the Strathpine RSL.

Before us lay a scene straight out of suburbia. The living room was dimly lit but someone was watching the footy. There were about 10 people loitering around and I noticed that we were the youngest there by an easy 15 years. What had we gotten into. The hostess, Cathy, greeted us and handed us a glass of what tasted like cat urine mixed with fruit punch. I gagged a little bit and covered up my revulsion with a well-timed coughing fit. Lisa and I found a seat over by the window in the corner and lurked there while we looked at each other, stoned out of our brains wondering what the fuck was going to happen.

Eventually someone came over and started chatting and to my delight it was a young couple who were having similar thoughts to us. A few beers were had and a few more wines and before you know it the music is pumping and the old fucks are starting to get frisky. In my stoned state I had the distinct impression we were watching a live action nature documentary. The women would flirt endlessly with each other and some of the men while their partners watched warily from the shadows, waiting to make their move. It was a little creepy and certainly not erotic. Cathy the host, an easy 48 year old lady with enormous boobs and a flashing smile only slightly overpowered by her cheap gaudy gold jewellery, asked us to go to the basement where the fun was and we obliged. This was starting to get interesting.

We get downstairs and over the sound of music we hear the unmistakeable sounds of animal sex. I walked past the pool table where a lady of age-unknown was being frenziedly eaten out by a silver haired geriatric. This has gone from being weird to downright funny. I suppressed my giggles and tried to keep a straight face. In the gloom we saw about 14 people, all involved in sex or watching intently. Lisa and I and the other young couple found a corner and we sat there and watched. “No pressure” was what Cathy told us. Well I think that’s what she said. She had a mouthful of cock at the time. She may have been telling us a great recipe for muffins for all I know. Cock flavoured ones.

One thing led to another and Lisa and this young girl started making out. This was more like it. I went to go get another beer and walked past a room. It was dark so I went in and noticed a couple getting right into it. The guy had her legs over his shoulders and was giving her the old one-two. I crept closer to get a better view and then noticed something a bit weird about the woman. She appeared to have a hairy chest. Ahhh right! This swingers party catered for all tastes. “Do you want me to suck your cock” the ‘woman’ asked in a low gravelly voice.

“Um, yeah, no thanks, mate. Um. I’m going to go now”

I backed out of the room (noticed the use of the word backed) and found Lisa who was busy getting attended to by another couple. The young guy from the earlier couple touched me on the shoulder and said “it’s a bit weird isn’t it?”. His name was Ben and his lady was being spit roasted on the couch by two guys while another girl watched. I said “Are you…um…are you going to get involved?”. Ben said “I really don’t know. Maybe later”. So we grabbed a 6 pack from the esky next to the table stacked high with condoms and went and watched the footy. The Broncos were sticking it to the Rabbitohs and this was actually, weirdly, more interesting than what was going on downstairs.

For some reason I just wasn’t aroused. Amongst the old wrinklies and random fatties there were a few cute girls downstairs but I just wasn’t into it. About an hour later Lisa comes upstairs, all stumbly and jittery, and asked “I thought you were fucking me hard for about half an hour, but when I turned around it was some 50 year old bald dude!!!”. She wasn’t angry, just amused. She dragged Ben and I back downstairs and said “I need you to help me with a fantasy. I want to be DP’ed”

Ahh, now I was starting to get interested.

I was pretty buzzed from the beers so agreed to get my cock sucked and before I knew it I was lying on a rug and Lisa was hovering over me. She squatted down on my bits and, you know what, it was good. Very good. She bounced on me for a bit and then I noticed guys crowding around. Now I’ve seen a few pornos and I am no stranger to seeing a lot of dicks on the screen but man, up close, another man’s hard dick is a terrifying sight. She pulled one guy close and started sucking him. The cunt stood on my hair, apologised and nearly belted me in the face with his dick trying to get out of the way. Then someone took the initiative and started shagging her butt. Now this was a weird feeling. I could actually feel shit going on in there and Lisa was in heaven but I couldn’t help but feel a little ‘gayed out’.

But I was trapped. I was underneath a girl while a couple of random dudes took turns shagging her arse and getting her to suck them off. I couldn’t escape. There were feet all around me and I was getting trod on and kicked and I wasn’t happy. That’s what they don’t show you in pornos. The awkwardness. The “whoops, don’t mind my dick” conversations.

And my fucking traitorous dick stayed hard the whole time. Motherfucker! At least if he went flaccid I could have wriggled out and muttered something about “having a rest” but no! He was loving it.

The final straw happened when some old fuck announced “Oh gaaawd, I’m going to come” while getting sucked off by Lisa. She pulled him out and continued to jerk him off. I started panicking. I was underneath her and this old man’s dick was about a foot away from my face. I started making little mewling noises and was able to move my head to the side just as a thick wad of jism erupted from his member. It hit right where my face would have been. I was done. I’m outta here.

I crawled out from underneath and went upstairs, more than a little shaken. Ben was on the couch and he said he ran away when he felt someone fondling his arse while he was standing, waiting for his turn, only to find out that instead of a horny young girl it was a creepy looking bloke pawing at his rear end. It wasn’t cool.

So here’s a tip for all you wannabe swingers. Swinger parties are full of creepy old fat people and a couple of weird cock craving bogans. You’ve been warned.

Lisa and I parted ways shortly after that episode. She was too kinky for me. I had met my match.

Chad Sexington 09:41 12/Jun/09

Chad vs Jesus

Okay, here’s a little story about how Chad beat Jesus. It starts back in 2001 when I had recently become single and set out to shag anything moving as long as it had a vagina and a heartbeat. I wasn’t fussy. I’d go with mates to dodgy hotels in the city and end up balls deep in some hairdresser called Simone, rutting like a horny dog in an alleyway. I had no morals and I had, obviously, no respect for myself. I’d be talking to girls at a bar and while they were talking I’d be nodding and smiling in the right places but all the while I’d be thinking of all the nasty things I was could do to her. Just for kicks one night I went out and decided to get with girls of a larger persuasion.

Just for kicks. I climbed aboard these large lasses like a marine biologist would to a whale carcass on a beach. I’d thrust away at an appropriate moist spot (vagina, arsehole, armpit, knee) until I did my business and then leave. I was a horrible man.

My head was in a bad place. That was until I met Jane. Jane was a student studying law. She was a smart girl. Terrifically smart which made me wonder why she loved Jesus. Yeah, she was a mad crazy born again Christian. One of those sickeningly grinning types who think when the world goes up in a ball of flame that they’ll be fine and everyone else will burn. I am a staunch agnostic so it is a wonder why I took a shine to Jane.

Maybe it was her perfect pert breasts. Maybe it was he tidy little arse, usually snugly contained by a pair of tight jeans. Maybe it was the fact that within 5 minutes of meeting her I was told, in no uncertain terms, that she was saving herself for marriage because that’s what Jesus wants. And by fuck this lumberjack loves a challenge.

She was cool to hang out with. She liked a drink. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t really preach about Jesus too much. She spent a bit too much time around foppish wet-sock Christian guys at the local youth centre for my liking but she was cool. She also didn’t mind a bit of ‘heavy petting’. She even used that phrase. “Lets do some heavy petting, Chad” she’d say after one too many glasses of Riccadonna. Apparently my idea of heavy petting differed from hers because I immediately tried to insert a number of fingers in her clam but was denied. Heavy petting was “kissing and rubbing”.

Yay. Kissing and rubbing. Awesome.

I tried hard to go from rubbing and kissing to touching of flesh but I got denied every time. Sometimes she’d do a strip tease for me and get nude, but I wasn’t allowed to touch. She’d be grinding away to some silly song on the radio and I’d just have to sit there and watch like I was at some weird strip joint in my living room. I hated it but the idea of conquering this girl’s ideals became intoxicating. She’d sit on the couch and make me sit right in front of her and watch he finger herself silly. I’d get slapped for inching closer. I just wanted a taste I’d tell her. “No. You know why”. Jesus didn’t want her to have sex but he was apparently fine with her bucking on 3 fingers while I sat looking like a kid on a field trip to the zoo. I wasn’t even allowed to get my old todger out and flog it like some rabid sea cucumber. No way. That was “dirty”.

I’d have to march off to the toilets to relieve myself.

Why was I hanging around her? Because I was taunted by the forbidden fruit. That’s the only reason. I wanted to “beat the Christian system” so I endured. I was even faithful, which was weird for me. But I wanted that prize. That juicy, shaved prize.

Then one night, after her graduation, we went out to a fancy restaurant. We drank a lot. We ate awesome food. We played cute footsies under the table with each other. Then we went to a nightclub and danced up a storm. I rubbed up against her and she leaned into me. I whispered sweet things in her ear and she lapped up these words like a cat does with full cream.

I think I even said “I love you” in her ear. I’m such a cunt.

We stumble back to her place and immediately start making out. She’s well drunk. I’ve thrown a hundred dollars of booze down her gullet. She stumbles around and then gets all serious. She looks me in the eye and says “I’ve fallen for you, Chad. Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes Jane, I do”. Again, I’m a cunt.

Bingo! Clothes start coming off. She tries to do a strip tease but is too drunk and falls over the coffee table. She lurches back upright like one of those punching clowns you had as a kid and slurs “I wanna suck your cock”. Well, my pants came off in record speed. Whoosh. My piece of wood is at attention and she crouches down, looks me in the eye and takes me cock deep in her mouth. I’d like to say it felt wonderful but it didn’t. It felt like she was chewing on an ear of corn and must have mistaken my gasps of pain as gasps of pleasure. I didn’t want her to stop though but in the end I withdrew my now raw penis and reciprocated. I must say it was easily the tastiest vagina I have ever tasted. It was like a peach, dipped in honey and then covered in fairy dust.

It didn’t take long for her to say “I am ready for you” and I mounted her like I was a jockey at Flemington. I kind of forgot she was a virgin which caused a little bit of concern after the fact but in the end she got right into it. Loved it in fact. So did I! I had won!! I had beat Jesus. Take that, you bearded motherfucker!! I rolled her over and started doing her from behind. I’m getting right into it. Lightly slapping her awesome arse, really giving her the treatment. It was then the word slipped out. I was doing a bit of the dirty talk and uttered softly “yeeeah, take that dick you little whore”.

Yeah, that didn’t go down too well. It was a horrible thing to say but I had said worse to girls (when asked) and had worse said back to me from some ladies who like that. Jane didn’t like that. I kind of pretended I had said nothing but she’d stopped responding (I kept at it, of course). She then let out a wail “What did you call meeee??”

Oh fuck.

I was then howled at for a good ten minutes by this girl who’d just broken her vow to Jesus to have sex with me only for me to call her a filthy name. I felt horrible. I wanted to make things better. She wanted me to grab my clothes, which I did. She ended up curling into a ball, sobbing “Sorry Jesus. Sorry Lord” over and over. I tried to touch her but she flinched and looked at me with these hate filled eyes “Get the fuck out now”.

I have never felt so bad in my life. I may have won the battle, Jesus, but you won the war.

Chad Sexington 09:42 12/Jun/09

Chad Gets Creeped Out. A First!

Weird girls. They make the world a more interesting place. In my times as a sexual philanthropist (or enthusiast, if you will) I have come across plenty of weird creatures of the night. From girls who like you to call them filthy names to girls who have a bizarre fixation with semen. Even a girl who insisted I lay motionless like a corpse while she fellated me. But one girl I went out with had a truly bizarre fetish. One that I had a bit of trouble dealing with. A rape fetish.

Now before I go on, I need to discuss something with you. I certainly do not condone violence against women. Well, against anyone really, but women in particular. Anyone who slaps or hits a woman in anger needs to be ‘dealt with’. Lets get this straight out there. What transpired in the story I am about to tell you is completely true and occurred with my girlfriends full consent. So all you wannabe rapists, put your tools away and get that creepy grin off your face.

Anyway, her name was Sally. Sally and I had known each other for years before we hooked up. She was a friends with an ex of mine and, surprisingly, was actually attracted to me even after hearing of my debauchery in the bedroom. We hooked up one night at a friends party and I actually thought I had found “the one”. She was super cute. Long curly blonde hair, tanned skin, quite curvy and with rather large fun bags. She loved a drink with the boys, smoked bongs like a trooper and swore like a sailor. I was in love. Yep, boys and girls, this lumberjack had fallen head over heels in love. We moved in together and I washed my hands of my philandering ways. I was ready to “settle down”. Fucking scary, right?

Anyway, after a year of blissful love we were sitting on the couch one night, stoned and a little drunk and she asked me what my greatest sexual fantasy was. Just out of nowhere. Like talking about movies and then this question popped out. I said mine was to be serviced by the Swedish volleyball team. You know, kind of funny. Ha-ha Chad. You funny cat. She looked me in the eye and in a low, kind of embarrassed voice said “I kind of have an obsession with rape”. I was more than a little gobsmacked and my munchies were quickly forgotten.

“What kind of obsession?” I asked. “Well” she took a big breath. “Put it this way. When I see a story in the paper about a girl getting raped, I get turned on”.

Whoa. Okay.

I asked her why and she replied “I want to know what it is like to be out of control. To be scared and to be abused”. Man, this was more than a little freaky. I didn’t know what to say. What can you say when you girlfriend tells you she fantasises about being viciously raped by a hairy knuckled stranger? She then snuggled up to me and said “do you want to pretend to rape me one time? Please?”. I was in a position of helplessness. I loved this girl and she wanted me to be rough with her? I tentatively agreed

She led me into the bedroom and sat me down and went over the ground rules. No hitting with a closed fist. Only open hand slapping. Anything else was fine. The safe word was “strawberries” and when she said it I had to stop what I was doing. Yeah fine. Sounds like a plan. I can do this. She then looked me in the eye and said “Please mister. Don’t hurt me?” Oh right. We’re starting now are we? Jolly good. I grabbed her and she slapped me hard “Let me go”. Okay. This was weird. One part of me was “Yeah Chad. Lets do this. Get your acting on and slap this bitch down!”. Another part of me was “can’t we just have normal sex and cuddle afterwards?”. I lightly tapped her and she went wild. Spitting in my face. Saying “no no no no no”. This wasn’t easy. I held her down and uttered quite a few words to her that I won’t repeat here and hope to never say to a girl again. I tore her clothes off. I fucked her hard. I wasn’t nice. It wasn’t fun. For me that is. She was loving it. She was sopping wet and came a couple of times before I’d even started fucking her. Weird chicks can be frightening. Not once did she say “strawberries”. Not once. And I did some horrific “crazy porn star” things to her as well. Really degrading things.

After an hour of this I had come twice and she’d come more than a few times. We were both covered in a sheen of sweat but she had red marks on her arse and tits, semen in her hair and some weird bruise on her upper arm (still don’t know how that happened). We lay in each others arms and she kissed me gently and said “thanks babe. I know that wasn’t easy for you but God it was great”. Yeah, okay. Weirdo. Next time how about we just fuck normally?

It ended up being the “thing we did when we got drunk”. We’d come home from a night on the piss and I’d pretend to rape her. I like to think I got quite good at it too. I was really playing the part. We’d even role play and I’d hide in the darkened living room and she’d pretend to come home from work and I’d jump her before she turned the lights on.

“oooga booga, it’s rape o’clock!!”

I’d tie her up and sodomise her on the kitchen floor. You know, just for the fun of it. One thing I noticed was that each time we did it, it got increasingly intense. Boundaries were being pushed like a stolen car towards a cliff. I wasn’t too sure where I’d draw the line. In the end, I found that line pretty quickly.

We came home one night and she said “let’s do it!”. I was hoping for a lovely blowjob followed by some vanilla sex and a sleep in. Nope. Not tonight. I started up the stairs and she said “no. Lets do it somewhere different”. Right. We’d become sexual deviates now. Crossed the precipice. Soon I’d be shoving cucumbers up my bum while she got a goat to lick my balls. That’s where it all ends up. Vegetables and bestiality. She pointed at the creek out the front of the house. An urban creek. Concrete lined and with a really dark culvert frequented by junkies and kids doing graffiti. I reluctantly agreed and walked over to the drain with her.

One thing led to another and I was slapping her left, right and centre (and each time I connected I inwardly flinched). I then spat on my dick, turned her around and gave her some “prison sex”. I was disgusted with myself. Sally, of course, couldn’t be happier. Then it happened. I was busy pounding her butt when she said “strawberries!”. I thought “fuck! What have I done”. I said “sorry baby. Sorry”. To which she replied “no, you’ve done nothing wrong, there’s someone watching us”

Sure enough, in the gloom of the drain, there was a dude watching us. Creepy fuck. I was about to get all indignant and start yelling at him when I looked at where we actually were. We were in a tunnel next to the creek but smack bang in the middle of a bike path. Oh dear. I started getting really embarrassed but then I thought “what the fuck is that dude doing”. It’s 11pm and this cunt is out going for a walk? Not likely. How long had he been watching? Had he seen me slap her around? Why hadn’t he said something or stepped in.

Oh yeah, it’s probably because he’s a fucking rapist. That’s why. He’s probably been walking along thinking about looking in a few windows when BAM! He’s walked straight into the nasty scene from the movie Deliverance. Rapist heaven. He was probably waiting for me to say “Yo man, you wanna piece of this bitch?”

That was it. I’d had enough. Not only had I crossed the line, but I’d danced over it with scant regard for my morals. What if the guy had stepped in? What if cops had been called “Oh yeah Officer. My lady likes me to slap her around and then butt fuck her. Sometimes we go bowling”. Fuck this. I pulled my pants up and started walking back. My drunk buzz had worn off and I started feeling sick. Also disgusted with what I had done. Sally didn’t see it this way. She tugged my arm “come on baby. Let’s finish it in the bushes. I’ll do anything you want me to”.

“Yeah, you know what, Sally? I don’t want to smack you around. I don’t want to feel like a creep. I just want normal sex like normal people. I’m sick of feeling like a dirty cunt, you weird woman” I yelled at her. She started crying but I’d had enough. She called after me “You don’t love me anymore, you don’t love me anymore. Why won’t you rape meeeeeee???!!”. I can still hear those words echo around the streets and they haunt me.

We broke up shortly after that and I swore I would never go near a weird chick again. Yeah, right.

Iggy Shresh 09:44 12/Jun/09

Tucker Max you aint.

Chad Sexington 09:45 12/Jun/09

Chad and the Trash Monster

This is a story I told quite a few years ago under another ‘pseudonym’ on a similar thread. Its about a one night stand I had in early 2001 just after I had broken up with a long term girlfriend. It was the first of a few dalliances that occurred when my heart was lying in the gutter with the shit kicked out of it. You know that feeling? It feels like the entire world is against you and the only thing you can think of to drag yourself up and out of the gloom is to be firmly embedded in a lusty girl’s loins. Yeah, that’s the one. I had those feelings for quite a few years. My doctor said he could give me some Xanax but I said I preferred a generous serving of poont from time to time.

It was Easter. I had avoided getting smashed the whole long weekend. I spent my time working on some glorious wood carvings and catching up on my back catalogue of Bruce Willis movies. I like Bruce Willis. Then on the Sunday night, just as I was attempting a particularly difficult sculpture while watching an episode of Moonlighting, I was frogmarched into a cab by two mates of mine who had deemed my insular behaviour to be nothing short of traitorous to the male reputation. We were heading into the city. To the Victory Hotel. Otherwise known as Slut City.

We found ourselves a seat upstairs and it was clear from the outset that some serious drinking had gone on that afternoon. Bouncers were dragging people out every 20 seconds and I saw two projectile vomits within 5 minutes of sitting down. Awesome. My kind of night. I was either going to get some sex or get belted by a footy player called Dazza for “lookin’ at him the wrong way”. The boys start buying jugs and before too long I am enthralling the table with an amusing anecdote about the time I was chased by a group of Tongan gangsters in Inala. Oh we did laugh. We also laughed at this rather large lass who had the misfortune of having a particular hungry arse while wearing hipster jeans. Her g-string was practically choking her and I remarked that her back looked like a ham strung up for Christmas.

Eventually the hilarity ensuing at our table attracted the attention of two comely lasses. They sat down and let us buy them drinks and laughed at the appropriate moments in our stories. They were flatmates and keen for a good time. We were in here. Or so we though. Midway through a story told by a mate about the time he got syphilis, one of them got up and left. Who would have thought stories about STI’s wouldn’t make girls gooey at the fork? At least we still had one lady to woo. Her name was Simone and she was a hairdresser. She looked exactly like Shannon Doherty and was terrifically drunk. My kind of girl. My two mates were practically fighting over her like stray dogs snapping at each other over a half eaten bucket of KFC. I couldn’t be fucked really. I was drunk but not spastic and was starting to get bored. Of course, those lads who know the “Way of the Woman” will know that in a group situation, a girl will most likely be attracted to the guy who is paying them the least attention. Same thing with cats.

Simone started leering at me and said “Geez, you’re cute”. Now cute isn’t a word I’d associate with my looks. Rugged? Perhaps. Chiselled? In the right light, maybe. Beaten with a stick? Oh yeah, that’s me. She then said “my feet ache” and Old Chad busted out the foot massage. Right there in the bar. Off with the shoes and I start rubbing. This is a good technique to know, younglings, but you need to know when to use it. Walking through a club asking women to take off their shoes so you can rub them isn’t going to get you any loving. Sure, try it out and see how you go. You may be known as that creepy dude with the foot fetish, but it is a skill that all men should know. So there I was, focussing on this dainty hoof, giving Simone the Super Deluxe foot treatment when one of my gobshite mates said “You’re going home with one of us tonight, aren’t you?”.

Nice one man. Nice. Smooth. Simone paused, looked my mate in the eye and said “yes, most likely” and then laughed this throaty sexy laugh. “It’s not you though” she said. “Nor is it going to be you” she said to my other mate. That only left one little deer in the headlights. Me. I stopped my foot rub and said “Super!”. I was ready to call a cab then and there. But Simone wanted to dance. Now I like dancing. I am quite a good dancer and like to think I can hold my own on the dance floor. But Simone was ragingly drunk and I didn’t like the idea of trying to hold her up while we busted our moves. In the end we tried our best and lasted 3 songs. Have you ever seen Weekend at Bernies? The movie where two young dudes carry around the corpse of their mega-rich boss? Well imagine that movie but instead of a moustachioed boss, the corpse is a buxom hairdresser whose tits are popping out of her top. Same expression on their face though. We got a tap on the shoulder and a bouncer said “take her home mate. She’s had enough”. Sure thing, Boss. I was in a cab with her within minutes.

As I said I don’t like taking one-night stand girls back to my cave so we went to her place which was a nice looking Queenslander in an inner city suburb. She fumbled around in her purse for her keys while I fumbled around in her top for her titties but in the end she had to, noisily, bang on the door. Her flatmate opened it up and gave her a gob full about leaving her keys behind. We staggered into the house and I said “gee, your flatmate seems a bit uptight”. “Oh that isn’t my flatmate” she replied. “That’s my ex”. Oh. Awkward. Hope he doesn’t mind me smashing her vagina all night long. I was dragged into her bedroom by my belt and was shocked to see that we’d be getting down and dirty in a room that looked just like the local dump. There was shit everywhere. I was momentarily disgusted but my disgust was replaced with a nice feeling as the starting sucking on my dick. This is a good thing. I put the filth to the back of my mind and got to work.

Simone was quite stacked. Large boobs and an arse that was pretty damn tasty. She was also a good ten years older than the 28 years old she told us in the bar. Easily ten. I didn’t mind because she looked just like Shannon Doherty and my dick was deep down her throat. I ended up disrobing her and going to town on her luscious body but then something happened. Perhaps it was the amount of beer I had drunk or it was the McDonalds wrappers my head was resting on but I couldn’t get it up. Nothing was happening downstairs. I slapped, cajoled and pleaded with my old fella but he wasn’t keen on fulfilling his obligations. The final horrible moment came when Simone knelt in front of me, fingering herself and asking me to fuck her hard and my penis failed to respond. A first for me. I was gutted. I started to apologise to Simone but she was already asleep and snoring like a wilderbeast. Awesome. Here I am in some random skank’s bedroom, surrounded by food detritus and soiled underwear and I can’t get it up. I decided to try and get some sleep and then to sneak out later on.

I was awakened by two things. The noise of a couple having sex in the bedroom next to Simones and by a warm wet feeling on my dick. Simone had woken up and had decided that some cock sucking was in order. This is a good thing. My penis had forgotten about the filthy bedroom and was keen for action. Well done soldier! I then proceeded to shag her as best a drunken lumberjack can. Maybe it was the sounds of the people in the other room having sex or the thought of her poor ex boyfriend in the front room having to listen to his former lover get pounded but I really put on a show. I had her bent over and I was giving her the good stuff. I was grunting like a wild boar and she was screaming “YES! YES!!! Do it to me!!!”. My thrustings had moved us up the bed and she was all squished up against the wall. I asked “are you okay” and she slapped my leg and said “Don’t stop!!!”. So I obliged and pretty much gave her the number one treatment. From the sounds coming from her room next door her flatmate’s suitor was doing the exact same thing. Have you ever seen a nature documentary about lions mating? They get all vicious and snarl at each other and sometimes they go a little crazy and bite and scratch? Well that’s what the noises emanating from the bedroom next door sounded like. BBC on the Plains of the Serengeti.

These animal noises started doing the job and I could feel myself getting close. I started down the final stretch and gave Simone a couple of real hard ones. Her head hit the wall pretty damn hard and for a minute there I thought I had knocked her out. She still urged me on though and I came like a champion. A real groaner. Like I had just released a thousand devils from my soul. The guy next door did exactly the same thing and it felt like we’d shared a bond. I climbed off Simone who had already started to snore again and thought “fuck this. I’m outta here”. I found my pants under the bed next to something wet and squishy. I don’t know what that was and I don’t want to know now. My shirt was hanging from the ceiling fan and fuck knows where my socks were. I left them behind. I crept out of the room, only momentarily thinking of leaving my number and then re-thinking this decision as something I shouldn’t do, and stalked into the hallway.

Only to bump into a dude. It was my mate. From the Victory Hotel. He’d scored the other flatmate. Obviously she hadn’t been too put off about the story of syphilis and had gone home with him. Turns out he was leaving and saw her being thrown out of the pub by the bouncers for being too drunk and had decided she was ripe for the picking. Err nice one man. Some people prefer their partners to be coherent. I guess I can’t be mad at him since my sexual partner for the night had been doing an impersonation of a corpse on the dance floor. We giggled at each other in the hallway and said “let’s get the fuck out of here”. He said her bedroom was like the trash compactor in Star Wars. I said “Fuck! So was Simone’s”. A legion of men could be entombed in this house and no one would know. Perhaps we were the lucky ones. We went to go out and found the front door locked. Like locked with a key. One of us was going to have to go back into a bedroom, wake a sleeping monster and ask for a key. I volunteered but seriously couldn’t raise a peep from Simone. I shook her gently. I whispered in her ear. I slapped her face. I shook her harder. I started getting a little panicky and my voice went up an octave and then I heard a strange guy’s voice say “oh, she won’t wake up”.

It was her ex boyfriend. Standing in the doorway in a pair of boxer shorts rubbing his nipples. Oh here it comes. I’m going to get stabbed and buried in a shallow grave in the backyard. He said “the slut won’t wake up when she’s had a lot to drink. The fucking slut. Fucking guys in my house while I am here. Fucking slutty cunt”.

Right. This dude obviously has some separation issues. How do I get out of this one. “Hey man. I didn’t know. Sorry” I pleaded. “Oh I have no grudge against you. It’s not your fault she’s a slutty cunt” he said with a weird reptilian look in his eye. “Um, do you think you can let us out”.

“Oh yeah. I can do that” he said in a weird voice and walked us to the door. Man, I was expecting to be stabbed right there but he was good to his word and let us out. The last I saw of him was him walking back to Simone’s bedroom with a nasty look in his face. I didn’t know what to do. Should I go and say something? Should I try and wake Simone to let her know that Brisbane’s version of Jeffrey Dahmer was going to go to town on her. In the end I did the only thing I really could do.

I caught a cab with my mate. Jumped in a taxi, giggling like schoolgirls. We told the cabbie about our adventures and he stopped the fare at $15 because he said he hadn’t laughed that hard in years. I sure hope Simone was okay though…

Chad Sexington 09:46 12/Jun/09

Captain Chad and the Scurvy Dog of Poon

This story is about the time Chad was cursed with the Kavorka. The kavorka is a Latvian curse made famous in a Seinfeld episode when Kramer apparently becomes attractive to all members of the opposite sex. I laughed when I saw this episode and then had a good hard think about it. We’ve all had moments when we’ve walked into a room and women seem drawn to us. Maybe it’s the pheromones oozing from our pores. Or it could be the fact we look like the business. Or maybe it’s just the fact we’ve stumbled into a uni party full of drunken students? This story harks back a long time ago to when this little lumberjack was at university studying forestry management and beer imbibement. It was a hazy time, filled with bawdy songs, jugs of New and plentiful poont. Oh how I sometimes miss those days.

Every couple of months there are certain parties at uni that you absolutely must attend. Toga parties, gender bender parties and epic band nights. This party was a fancy dress. Awesome. Nothing better than shunning the lumberjack flannel and dressing up like a pirate. Which is exactly what I went dressed as. A pirate. Complete with eye patch, stuffed parrot and hook for a hand. I real booty stealing pirate. Not that I was keen for booty. Tonight was all about the boys. And this, dear readers, is perhaps the reason for the kavorka. See, as mentioned in an earlier story, women tend to be attracted to guys who seem to “not care”. The last thing a girl wants to do is hook up with the desperado leering at her from the dark corner. Well, most girls. I have been that desperado before and this approach has worked but the quality of the poont landed isn’t that good. My theory is women are more attracted to men with an air of “I really don’t care for vaginas right now”. And this is what happened to me that night.

I walked up to the uni club with my band of merry friends in tow. We’d started early with a cask of Stanley’s finest wine and a bag full of nature’s finest. We were buzzing when we walked into the club and positioned ourselves at the bar and ordered about 10 jugs of New. This was going to be a great night and it was kicking off nicely. Immediately following our entrance a gaggle of girls came over to say hello. We said our polite hellos and a few of the braver blokes tried a few moves on them to no avail. Here’s a tip. Girls don’t really want to be fingered by a drunk Dr. Evil lookalike at 7:30pm. I wasn’t too fussed having noticed that the club had installed a pinball game. Ahh pinball. My one real vice. It was the Indiana Jones pinball game and I knew it well. I shoved about 10 bucks into it and started smacking the shit out of those silver balls. God I just love pinball. I slayed all comers. No one could match me. It was then I noticed a hot little nymph standing next to me. I glanced at her while the “multiball” function was kicking into gear and exchanged pleasantries but of course I had to say “excuse me” while I continued my game. No sexy nymph is going to stop me from hitting the high score.

In the end the plug was pulled on the pinball game as a band was about to kick in. This made a certain lumberjack a little unhappy but strangely, the inquisitive nymph was still hanging around. Her name was Stacey and Stacey was new to uni (tee hee hee) and didn’t know anyone here apart from her best friend Gill. Gill came over to meet me and damn was she also fine looking. Both of them would have been around 21 and Stacey was dressed as a Gumnut baby and Gill as Medusa (her with the snake hair etc). Okay, probably not the best choice of outfit but it turns out she was slightly obsessed with Greek mythology and was kind of into that sort of thing. I really couldn’t pass judgement because I was a pirate, right? One thing led to another and I had introduced these girls to the lads and walked off. I’m still not sure why, but I just wasn’t interested in the ladies that night. Or so I thought.

At about 11pm I am hitting my straps. I’d danced up a storm and was well and truly hammered. It was about this time that I started having a deep and meaningful discussion with Gill and Stacey about the finer things in life. Blowjobs, to be exact. Don’t ask me how we got onto this discussion but things certainly took a turn for the better when Stacey said she had no gag reflex. What? “Ha-ha prove it” I leered. Yeah, nice one Chad. Smooth mother fucker you are. She then, and I am not kidding, grabbed a fake plastic toy snake from around Gill’s neck (Medusa girl, remember) and slowly inserted it into her mouth. Slowly. Ever so slowly. I laughed, then giggled, then sorted of snorted and then was fucking quiet as she took a good 10 inches of snake down her throat. Oh my Lord. Gill laughed as well and said “she’s quite talented, isn’t she” and then proceeded to slide this snake in and out of her friend’s mouth. Throat fucking her friend with a toy snake. Boy, I should have been as hard as a rock by then, shouldn’t I?

Well no.

I said “That’s a cool trick. I’m going to the bar”

You silly fuck, Chad.

Here’s an opportunity to bed two comely lasses and you want another pot of beer?

On my way to the bar I stumbled through the dance floor only to have some luscious young first year grab me and grind herself against me. “Yeah, that feels nice but what I want right now is a pot of beer”. I couldn’t help myself. Was it the kavorka? Was it the fact that I just didn’t care? Why were women jumping me all over the place.

At the bar I placed my order and was promptly asked by some nubile young thing if I’d “found any booty yet” with a wink.

With a wink, you cunts. A wink.

I said “no, not yet. Oh here’s my beer” and walked off. Looking back I see an opportunity gone begging to dip my doink in several founts of spadge and for some reason I turned them all down. I wasn’t too drunk. I certainly wasn’t too stoned. I don’t know what happened other than I kept drinking like the bar was going to run out of beer (which is did later on but has no relevance to this story now). I was about 2 hours later when I saw my mate walk out with both Gill and Stacey (plus plastic snake) under his arms. What the fuck had I done? I’d turned down a room full of tang just to get drunk. “Fuck it” I thought. I’ll molest myself and sleep alone tonight.

From there it gets a bit hazy. I got drunker and then fell down a lot. But the kavorka wasn’t done with me. Oh no. I staggered downstairs only to bump into the biggest nerd in my year. Her name was Emma and she was butt ugly. I’m not being mean here. Well maybe I am but there was no way you could look at her and find any redeeming features. She had bad acne. Ginger hair. Small boobs and a big arse. Even her personality was horrific. She was quite possibly the most boring person on the planet. She was also quite enamoured with me for some reason.

“Hey Chad! Where are you going”

“Home if I can make it. If not, that garden bed looks sweet as”. I replied.

“Oh you can stay in my flat if you want”. Emma lived on residence in a communal 6 room flat. I reluctantly agreed thinking it was actually nice of her to offer me her couch and perhaps I should be grateful. We stumble off into the darkness and somehow find her flat. I fall into the entrance and make my way (on all fours like a dog dressed as a pirate) to the couch and she says “Oh no, Captain Chad. My room is this way”.

I then recall behind dragged down the hall into her bedroom with the faint knowledge dawning on me that this chunky ginger nerd was going to have her way with me. And that is exactly what she did. I got thrown on the bed and she said “tonight is your lucky night Chad!”

“Are you letting me go now” I asked hoping that this was the ‘luck’ I was about to receive. But alas, no. She stripped off in record time and then had me nude as the day I was born.
“I’m going to fuck you all night long” she purred into my ear, her breath smelling of cheap bourbon.

Awesome. Do I get any last requests? Will the Governor call and grant me a pardon?

Oh fuck no. She seriously raped me. Well, the term rape is a bit harsh considering my cock was firmly at attention the whole time but man it got weird. You know that scene from American Pie where “Michelle” the band geek just slays the main character in the bedroom? Well I reckon the writers were looking through Emma’s window jotting down ideas. I’d never seen a transformation like it. The mild mannered nerd had turned into a cock-craving extremely vocal lunatic. We aren’t talking cutesy dirty talk here. We’re talking her yelling “fuck my cunt! Fuck my cunt!! Give it all to me!! Yeah, fuck my hole. Fuck me Captain Chad! Harder HAAAARDER!!”

I swear plaster fell from the ceiling. She wouldn’t get off me. Whenever I feigned sleep she’d start sucking me or rubbing my arse. She wouldn’t relent. She was insatiable. I couldn’t get away. By the time I figured out an escape plan it was 7am and I was rubbed raw. I had bite marks on my neck. Nail marks on my back and arse and my cock felt like it had been thrown in a blender with some chopped onions and chilli. Penis salsa. In the end I faked it. Yup, I faked an orgasm. I put on a good show. Really threw my heart and soul into the part. She threw a couple of fingers up my arse for good measure and I must say it made my climaxing yelps seem a bit more realistic. She lay on the bed, panting like some ginger monster and I said “I’m just going to go clean up” and I grabbed my clothes and went to the nearby bathroom.

I got changed quickly, avoiding looking at my shameful face in the mirror and got dressed in the only clothes I had. My pirate costume. Walk of shame anyone? But it was 7am. Surely no one would be awake. Turns out I was wrong. Well wrong. The whole fucking flat was awake and watching the Today show. I meekly walked out into the lounge room, dressed in black leggings, puffy shirt and stuffed parrot. They all looked at me and as one shouted “Haaaaaaaaaarrrr!!!” and gave me a round of applause. I did the only thing I could do.

I took a bow.

Turns out no one had got a wink of sleep the moment we got home and they’d heard everything. I was offered a cup of coffee and was about to accept it when I heard Emma’s door open. Fuck this. I fled like a pussy. As I ran down the stairs I could hear one funny jokester yell out “Run for your life, Captain Chad!!”. Yeah, not so funny when you’ve been molested by a ginger she-monster, fucko.

I crawled to a mate’s house and there the bastard was. Sitting on the couch in his boxers while the two nymphs (Gill and Stacey) showered together. “Just had myself an awesome threesome, Chad” he said. “Even the plastic snake got some action”.

I cursed him and then threw up in his sink for an hour or so.

I saw Emma a bit after that and we never spoke of the incident again. Then about 4 years ago I was introduced to a new worker in my office. You know who it is, don’t you? Emma the nerd. Yep. She still works in the office with me now. Funnily enough, after 14 or so years passing since the incident we still have an uncomfortable silence when we are together in the lift.

One day I’m going to leer at her and go “haaaaar!!” just to see the reaction I get.

Chad Sexington 09:55 12/Jun/09

Chad Tries his hand at Marine Biology. Fails.

This little story is about Chad and the Internet Behemoth. It’s a story of lust and loneliness with a little bit of depravity thrown in for good measure. I have mentioned before about my dalliances with women I have met online. Now, forget what you hear from a lot of people, but the internet is a great tool to meet ladies. A girl I know once told me that she loved meeting people on the internet. She said “Oh its so good. You can pick and choose who you want to chat to. The chase is the best part”

I don’t know about the chase. I just sent message to anyone who looked like a bit of a goer. “Oh you’ve got nice boobs? BAM! You have a nice smile? BAM! You have crooked eyes and a missing tooth?………BAM!”. It wasn’t really a chase as such. It was more like the Allied bombing of Germany in WW2. I just dropped bombs from a great height and hoped for casualties. And it worked well. Sure, I got a few non-regulation fish that needed to be thrown back but sometimes I caught myself a stunner. This story isn’t about one of those experiences. God no.

I had got myself a spanking new computer. It was a real humdinger. It even came with a shiny webcam. Alright. Chad’s going to see some bitches. After a few issues with it, fixed by firmly belting the thing, I got it working. MSN was now more fun. Not only could I exchange witty remarks, I could now see my victims. I mean friends. Please bear in mind that this was 2002 back when webcams were kind of new on the market and produced grainy coarse images. I didn’t care though and within a week I had nubile young things doing strip teases for me, even if they were in black and white and you had to sort of squint to see what was going on. I was on a roll. It was this overconfidence that caused this lumberjack to stumble into the clutches of Brenda.

Brenda was a nurse and it is common knowledge that nurses are all kinky freaks. I got excited straight away. The pictures she sent me showed a cute and buxom, Rubenesque if you will, women with a nice smile. She also appeared to be after the same thing I was. No strings attached sex with likeminded people. Awesome. Our cutesy little chats started turning into “cyber sex” and soon we were exchanging naughty pictures. That’s right, dear readers. This lumberjack took pictures of his genitals, in various states of arousal, and sent them to a nurse. In exchange I got similar pictures. Not as artfully taken, mind you, but nude pictures all the same. I am not ashamed of this at all. I figured I was using my man-bits as bait to land a fish. And boy, did I hook a live one.

Things escalated over a couple of weeks and one night after imbibing a bit too much vodka, I reluctantly agreed to perform a little striptease on my webcam. Yeah. I’m a weirdo, right? I dimmed the lights as genitals tend to look a bit freaky under florescent lights. Like the innards of a freshly killed rabbit. I put on some music and got my gear off. Brenda was loving it. Telling me what to do, urging me on. I felt a little embarrassed but in the end it was all harmless fun. After I finished my show I received a bunch of “new” pictures in my inbox and it seems Brenda was pleased. Very pleased. Like “happy Labrador puppy” pleased. The message sent with the pictures was “We need to meet in real life”.

You know what? Sure thing Brenda. Stalkers and weird fat chicks with knives be damned. I was going to get some loving. I sent her a message saying: “Yep. Let’s do this. My house, tomorrow night” and clicked send. I spent the next day at work mentally preparing myself for a night of sex. I took some vitamins. Ate lots of vegies. Shouted motivational slogans at my penis. You know, getting prepared. It was at about 3pm that I realised I hadn’t given Brenda my address. “Oh bugger”. Turns out I didn’t need to. Brenda turned up at 7pm on the dot. At my house. I didn’t really think too much about how she found my house nor the fact that I had seen her car driving around the block since 6:15. Turns out I probably should have put the numbers together but my penis was in control now.

She knocked on the door and I felt like a right cunt straight away. I opened it and there was this really large strange girl standing on my step with a bottle of cheap sweet wine in her hand. I asked, and I cringe even writing this down, “Can I help you?”.

I reckon it took about 0.25 of a second from me to register the look of disappointment on her face and realising that this behemoth was Brenda. “Ha-ha just kidding. Hi Brenda!” I said with a smile. Of course, I was smiling on the outside. Inside my soul was screaming “Noooooooooooooooooooooo!!!” like a person who has seen a cement truck roll in front of them on the freeway and nothing could stop the imminent destruction. I invited her in and pecked her on her ample cheek. Right. What to do now. I was stuck for ideas. I had envisaged a buxom nurse coming in and letting me woo her until she was slipping all over the floor. Not tonight. Brenda sat awkwardly on the couch and I thought “Right. Drinks. And lots of them”. I needed to get drunk. Well drunk. I couldn’t back out of what was going to happen. I can sometimes be a cunt but turning a girl away just because I mistook 10 year old pictures of her to be recent is a nasty act.

I went to the kitchen to get a few glasses for this horrid wine she’d brought. She was putting some CD’s on so I smashed a 7 ounce glass of vodka and poured two glasses of sickly sweet moselle for us both. I sat on the couch, kind of timidly, almost like an animal trainer getting to know a new polar bear. I was nervous as all hell and we made some small talk. You know, about some movies we’d seen and that funny episode of Seinfeld that was on last night. Ha-ha. She must have sensed my nervousness so she shuffled across the couch like an elephant seal in heat and caressed my face. One of her hands was on my thigh and she started kissing me. One half of me was going “Alright. Going to get some loving” but another half was screaming “Man the harpoons you scurvy dogs!”. In the end I figured I’d do the deed and then send her an email saying I had moved to Melbourne or something. Right! Lets get this show on the road. I was about to make a move when she said “How about a strip tease”.


Yeah, Brenda wanted a strip tease. Not wanting to make her angry, I obliged. Now, doing a strip tease to a webcam is weird in it’s own right, but doing it to a semi-drooling cetacean on your couch is freaking out there. I wiggled out of my clothes as sexily as I could and I like to think my dancing style was almost up there with “Manpower” and not like a homeless man with cerebral palsy. Whatever my style was, it did the trick. She lunged at me and inhaled my penis like a slightly undercook cocktail sausage. I fell back against the wall which only served to make her snuffle more in my groin like a pig rooting for truffles in the French countryside. I ended up half on the floor, half on the couch and still she didn’t remove her lips from my cock. Just slurped away. It was a weird sensation and I am sure if I didn’t pry her off me that she would have sucked me inside out. She sat there panting. “Right! Let’s fuck!” she said.

I was roughly pushed into the bedroom and it was at this moment that I almost feared for my life. She threw me on the bed and started taking her clothes off. I was transfixed. It wasn’t a sexy strip tease, it was like a bunch of carnies taking down a circus tent. Every now and then I’d hear a spring go BOING and a chunk of flesh would escape. It was hypnotic. With the final unclasping of a load bearing latch these two enormous boobs exploded into the room. They seemed to have their own gravitational field because boobs that big shouldn’t stand up like that on their own. I was no longer aroused, I was keenly interested in how the general laws of physics had been broken. I reached up to fondle one and she pretty much grabbed my face and jammed it in her chest. Her nipples were huge and rubbery. It wasn’t really erotic but I gave them a good going over. More scientific when you come to think of it. She lay on the bed and the poor piece of furniture groaned under our weight. Off came her skirt and there it was.

Her vagina.

It glistened in the candle light like the Sarlaac Pit in Return of the Jedi. I generally prefer a woman with a trimmed spadge but in this case no trimming had occurred. Rampant slash and burn combined with a liberal spraying of Agent Orange seemed to be the technique used. You know when you see people cutting up a raw chicken and they break the breastbone and you are left with this gaping raw hole with puckered chicken skin all around? Yeah? Well this was exactly like that. Now when confronted with a sight like this you shouldn’t do what I did. I paused, gasped and put a hand over my mouth. Not the coolest move in the world. She looked up and asked “Is…is something wrong?”.

Gulp. “No Brenda. Nothing’s wrong” and, my poor readers, I went down there. I had to. It was my manly duty to do it. Like soldiers going over the top at Gallipoli or defending against the nasty Hun at the Somme, I said a brief prayer and gave her the Lumberjack special. And in doing so I reaffirmed my suspicions that I am a dirty bastard with no standards. And look, I’ll give her the respect she deserves. She was awesome in the sack. A very willing lover and very unselfish. It was just that she was so bloody huge. At one point there I am going at it like a man on fire and she stops, pulls her huge belly up so I can get deeper and then says “okay, try that”. I didn’t know what I was fucking, to tell you the truth. I could have been balls deep in her belly button for all I know. But she loved it.

Afterwards we were lying in the bed covered in a sheen of sweat, panting like dogs on a hot day and she rolls over to talk to me. Once I recovered from the aftershocks I said “wow, that was kind of cool”. She said “yeah, but I don’t think we could go out. You’re not really my type”.

I didn’t know whether to be happy that I had a “get out clause” or annoyed because I had been rejected. I was confused. Brenda helped me get over my confusion by kicking off another round of animal sex. And that was when I hurt my neck. But that, my friends, is another story all together.

bias-employee of the 09:56 12/Jun/09

best thread ever

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