Paid Members Lenin Posted August 28, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted August 28, 2016 Strangely enough it's not always what it seems. A Glasgow dominatrix I once knew explained that with the advent of broadband requests for her to plop on folks faces went through the roof. Never one to miss a money making opportunity she start "saving" suitably sized nuggets from each bowel movement and freezing them. On the day of one such appointment, it would be partially defrosted and then stuck back up her bum in preparation for the big moment. Utterly bizarre. I always wondered if she'd been rumbled by an angry customer suspicious of the perfect jobby dropping out on queue. I only wonder that because if I need to use the loo after my wife I'm hit with THAT smell which tells you something truly, truly awful has happened here and I have to reconsider everything I know and think about her. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rey_Piste Posted August 29, 2016 Share Posted August 29, 2016 One of my mates had a prostitute living in the garden flat of his block. Since it was a house converted into 3 flats they were lettered A,B and C. The ground floor flat was A, his top floor flat was C with the garden flat being B. He was constantly getting the bell rang for his flat by gentlemen asking for Sonya. Considering the fact that he mostly worked evenings he soon got fed up of the constant ringing. So he goes to confront Sonya half expecting a real stunner to answer the door. He was shocked to find a large Afro-Caribbean woman in her mid forties who resembled Rustie Lee. After he found her Adultwork page she specialised in adult babies, where she took the role of their nanny. The day she had a barbecue for her repeat clients was apparently hilarious because her garden had a dozen or so middle aged men sipping on beers giving each other furtive looks. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Undefeated Steak Posted September 2, 2016 Share Posted September 2, 2016 Took the dog for a walk down the river side an hour or so ago. Was lovely as the sun was setting. There were birds flying back to roost; I even saw a vole scurry past. And then it hit me like a thunderbolt. That unmistakable feeling in the stomach. The curry I'd eaten not an hour prior must've been a bad un. I was stranded, but with other dog walkers about and without a toilet within a 30 minute radius I was panicking. The first wave came and I rode it out. And the second. Slightly more difficult but managable. The third harder. And the fourth even more difficult. The sweat started as panic set in. SOS messages and calls were sent from my phone to no avail. Nobody would get my message in a bottle. I headed back home down the back paths, but the quicker I walked the worse I felt. And the faster I walked, the more the dog was pulling on his lead, sure it was a game. A game it wasn't. I was in pain by this point. 10 minutes from home and I have to take the decision of joining the path adjacent to a main road. The paranoia began as I was sure every passing driver was taking great delight in my ever growing problem. And I made it to the final corner, less than 2 minutes from home. Base camp. At this point I was in an abdominal submission, reaching for the ropes. Reaching, reaching for that bottom rope. My arm extended toward that rope, and I grabbed it. I was safe. But then the cruel tricks of life pulled me back into the centre of the ring and I was stranded. I tapped. Shit gushed into my duds in some of the most upsetting, demoralising and embarrassing few moments of my life. And it came and came. The floodgates were open. Sorry gents but I don't ever want to share this tale with anybody in 'real life' and if anything good can come from it, I thought the UKFF would be the place to share it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
King Coconut Posted September 2, 2016 Share Posted September 2, 2016 This thread is a rich vein! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Moderators Chest Rockwell Posted September 2, 2016 Moderators Share Posted September 2, 2016 I have to know about the aftermath. The clean up. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Lenin Posted September 2, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 2, 2016 (edited) Nothing worse than the sweats, stomach doing knots, whipping the kegs down thinking you've made it as the burning flow starts into the pan. Sounds like I'm running a bath. Relief. Only to look down and see the first few seconds worth of dross ended up on the floor. Amazing how a simple exhale can result in such a mess. Thank God these days no one carpets their bathrooms. Edited September 2, 2016 by Suplex Sinner Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Lenin Posted September 2, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 2, 2016 In other news why can't hand dryers all operate the same blast cycle? I hate farting in the cubicle (why I don't know) so I try and sync it with the hand dryer if it's quiet. Taken me months to master the one at work. Today I was on a different floor, felt a wee pressure needing relieved and thought the dryer would be my saviour. It's different to the one on my floor. School boy error. It's not automatic. I put my hands under it, released a thunderous fart as someone walked in and then waved my hands to start the dryer. Awkward. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Sergio Mendacious Posted September 2, 2016 Author Paid Members Share Posted September 2, 2016 Aw Jesus, that sounds like the worst. I've been close, and I may have farted out a fine mist one or two times, but I've always got the shoulder up at 2 9/10ths. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Gus Mears Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 Oh Steak, I feel for you. Absolute mare. I have a well trained and robust sphincter, because I can proudly say that I have never shit myself in adult life. It bodes well for the years when I'm watching Bergerac repeats and being a a racist at a nursing home. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members SpursRiot2012 Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 Is it just me or when you're in that situation it seems like your bowels know you're about to reach salvation and it becomes even harder to hold it in? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members bAzTNM#1 Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 Took the dog for a walk down the river side an hour or so ago. Was lovely as the sun was setting. There were birds flying back to roost; I even saw a vole scurry past. And then it hit me like a thunderbolt. That unmistakable feeling in the stomach. The curry I'd eaten not an hour prior must've been a bad un. I was stranded, but with other dog walkers about and without a toilet within a 30 minute radius I was panicking. The first wave came and I rode it out. And the second. Slightly more difficult but managable. The third harder. And the fourth even more difficult. The sweat started as panic set in. SOS messages and calls were sent from my phone to no avail. Nobody would get my message in a bottle. I headed back home down the back paths, but the quicker I walked the worse I felt. And the faster I walked, the more the dog was pulling on his lead, sure it was a game. A game it wasn't. I was in pain by this point. 10 minutes from home and I have to take the decision of joining the path adjacent to a main road. The paranoia began as I was sure every passing driver was taking great delight in my ever growing problem. I had this carry on before. It really is frightening. i was miles away from a toilet. Managed to make it to Sighthill Park in Glasgow and dive into the bushes there to "let go". Nasty experience I don't wish to go through again. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Bus Surfer Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 Is it just me or when you're in that situation it seems like your bowels know you're about to reach salvation and it becomes even harder to hold it in? This is true. Also works for having a piss too. If I'm bounding up the stairs in desperation and happen to glance at the porcelain, my brain tells we're good to go, even though though I'm still a few feet away. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members FLips Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 (edited) I had it at Victoria station in London when I went to go see Wicked with the other half this year. I was on Antibiotics and they were playing havoc with me. Had to leave her in line and hobble safely to the toilets and thank fuck I had a single 50p coin or I'd have shit myself there and then in the middle of a packed station. I was on that toilet for about 20 minutes like a hot smoothie blender. Edited September 3, 2016 by FelatioLips Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members ElCece Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 This time last year I had one off those situations but I was in a fairly urban area so nipped into a small coffee shop ordered a drink to go and went straight into the cubicle that was straight off the main seating area. I spent a good 5 minutes loudly painting the bowl and then it wouldn't flush properly so I then just had go up and leave. I walked out and seen the majority of the patreons eye balling me so they has heard or smelt my shame. I marched straight out not having the gall to collect my Latte Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Paid Members Surf Digby Posted September 3, 2016 Paid Members Share Posted September 3, 2016 Whilst there was no physical mess, I once stunk out a cubicle to chemical warfare level. As I hobbled out, eyes streaming and lungs straining, Chesney Hawkes went in. Grim. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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