<*dv_3*>Tales of Sexual Humiliation

Recently I got to thinking about all those times Ive been humiliated during sex! Remember the time I was on top and peed as I reached the vinegar stroke? Or the memorable humiliation of being on hands and knees and hearing the dreading wooooooooooooooooooop as you leant too far forward and inhaled more than boyfriend? Ahem! Lets face it, we all know what inevitably follows that sound, dont we? Yep, the flesh crawling phlarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrppppp of whats commonly known as, I believe, a fanny fart! Oh, the crimson cheeked, butt-clenching shame of one of those on a first night! Ahhhhh, happy memoriesalas nothing to the latest embarrassing incident to grace my bedroom!

<*dv_0*> Anyway, as usual I digress. the reason I write is to share in the hilarity or my latest sexual humiliation. Picture the scene: new boyfriend, very very enthusiastic sex, snatched mid afternoon, while the offspring are ejected to the swing park and the flat is blessedly empty. The doorbell goes, its a neighbour returning a random piece of household equipment, a mop, a tin of polish, whatever. Being an aspiring hostess, I hurry to answer the door, still flushed from the recent events of the afternoon. Blissfully unaware of the odd look my neighbour gives me, I snatch the mop and rush back to my welcoming bed (and equally flushed new man!)

<*dv_1*> As I turn to slip off my robe, I notice the smirk of disbelief on his face please, tell me you didnt go to the door like this? he chokes, reeling with hysterics. I take off my dressing gown and turn, to find a fresh and sticky condom glued to the back of the hood, not unlike the tail on the proverbial donkey!

<*dv_2*> As the colour drains from my face and my new man proceeds to piss himself laughing, I consider how hard its going to be to abseil out of the flat later, rather than risk bumping into my neighbour and having to explain the scotch tape contraceptive!

Now dont get to thinking Im the only one cursed with bonking related embarrassment because I know for a fact that Im not. For example theres a very close friend of mine (lets call her Natalie) whos own bedroom party trick was oral gymnastics. Well one evening, Natalie was busily playing a tune on a borrowed instrument when she gagged on a stray hair and promptly regurgitated the expensive meal her host had provided some two hours hence, gross!

<*dv_4*> Another equally revolting but persistently amusing story that always surfaces at girls only nights in, is that of Sally and the Mother. Sally, a fellow uni student was at the family home of her still shiny, new boyfriend and had left the bedroom, desperate for a wee. Disorientated and boss eyed with vodka, she had tottered into the hall naked from the waist down, in search of the downstairs loo, only to be greeted by the mother of her boyfriend coming in the front door. To say she left fast is an understatement!

So why is it that we girls let these things curl us up with hysterics with our mates and yet curl up with embarrassment with anyone else? It doesnt make us less feminine to be more human surely? Be proud in the face of sexual hilarity is the mantra Ive chosen to adopt. The way I see it, in our house at least, anything remotely like the flawless antiseptic sex you get in movies is about as likely as my mates not laughing when I tell them about the cock-ups.. scuse the pun! 

Piece submitted by Sarah Martin

Back to front

Click here for BFH merchandise