marty
5th July 2007, 17:36
i have no idea what i was looking for when i stumbled across this story:
I'm going to apoligise in advance, and suggest that if you're eating, skip this and come back later.
Ere we go.. are you sitting comfortably? good.
I live in Sweden...
... and have in the past mentioned Surströmming and the violent aroma. If you doubt my wisdom, go and play with youtube. You'll find all sorts of people being violated by putrid fish smells.
Now.. Midsummer in Sweden is one HELL of a party. I've been here for a good few years, and I can't remember a single Midsummer where people haven't got royally rat-arsed, or fallen over while dancing round the giant phallic symbol that we erect for the party: Rinsing your recently abused pallette of rotten fish with large quantities of Vodka and Akvavit can get you more drunk than you'd care to imagine.. but as for the frog-dance there is no excuse.
Anyway... there's lots of rampant alcohol fuelled shagging that goes on. This night I was going to become another statistic.
6am, and the missus and I have swayed home in the lazy and meandering way that the drunks have perfected over an eternity of liver-abuse... We were determined to nail each other to the bed when we get home. Now.. to be fair to her she was awesome in bed, it's just that this night was about to go wrong. Terribly terribly wrong.
We'd both been drikning for nearly 12 hours straight. We were both obscenely drunk... and I was having difficulty getting hard. I could hardly keep my body erect, let alone Mr Winky. Missus Humpty decided that - as sitting on my face was always a dead-cert for trouser-snake charming - she'd hoik her dress up, and ride my tongue.. This she did. Rather hard. I'm not only used to this, but a great fan to boot. My tongue worked away at her feverishly, her cute puckered barking-spider a bare few milimeters from my nose. I was in heaven, and riding my face like a drunken pro, so was she.
She was sat in the perfect position to tug away at any signs of life, and as she and I both neared the point of no return I - mouth full of mimsy - was forced to heave air through my nose at a colossal rate, much like a jet-fighter at full throttle just before take-off....
We both came.... and - as fate would have it - the orgasm ripping through her body caused her to grind down harder on my face.. and fart: forecefully injecting un-diluted rectal gasses into my air-hungry nose.
A FULLL force, and totally ripe, hot Surströmming fart (far worse than the initial burst of smell from the tin), CLEAN up my nostrils. The reaction was instant.. and completely unaware of her crime and mistaking my convulsions as throws of exstacy, Mrs Humpty ground down harder on my face as I gasped for air.. The enormity of my horror peaked as, in the full grip of natural bolidy rejection, I hoyed my stomach's content, including a large amount of undigested, rotten fish, straight up her pink mitten.
As the fetid herring now deeply stuck in my nostrils caused me to start a gagging fit that would go on to last an apparent eternity, She ran screaming to the bathroom with rotten fish, stomach acid and alcohol dribbling from her burning mimsy.
Oh how we laughed. (much much MUCH later)
I'm going to apoligise in advance, and suggest that if you're eating, skip this and come back later.
Ere we go.. are you sitting comfortably? good.
I live in Sweden...
... and have in the past mentioned Surströmming and the violent aroma. If you doubt my wisdom, go and play with youtube. You'll find all sorts of people being violated by putrid fish smells.
Now.. Midsummer in Sweden is one HELL of a party. I've been here for a good few years, and I can't remember a single Midsummer where people haven't got royally rat-arsed, or fallen over while dancing round the giant phallic symbol that we erect for the party: Rinsing your recently abused pallette of rotten fish with large quantities of Vodka and Akvavit can get you more drunk than you'd care to imagine.. but as for the frog-dance there is no excuse.
Anyway... there's lots of rampant alcohol fuelled shagging that goes on. This night I was going to become another statistic.
6am, and the missus and I have swayed home in the lazy and meandering way that the drunks have perfected over an eternity of liver-abuse... We were determined to nail each other to the bed when we get home. Now.. to be fair to her she was awesome in bed, it's just that this night was about to go wrong. Terribly terribly wrong.
We'd both been drikning for nearly 12 hours straight. We were both obscenely drunk... and I was having difficulty getting hard. I could hardly keep my body erect, let alone Mr Winky. Missus Humpty decided that - as sitting on my face was always a dead-cert for trouser-snake charming - she'd hoik her dress up, and ride my tongue.. This she did. Rather hard. I'm not only used to this, but a great fan to boot. My tongue worked away at her feverishly, her cute puckered barking-spider a bare few milimeters from my nose. I was in heaven, and riding my face like a drunken pro, so was she.
She was sat in the perfect position to tug away at any signs of life, and as she and I both neared the point of no return I - mouth full of mimsy - was forced to heave air through my nose at a colossal rate, much like a jet-fighter at full throttle just before take-off....
We both came.... and - as fate would have it - the orgasm ripping through her body caused her to grind down harder on my face.. and fart: forecefully injecting un-diluted rectal gasses into my air-hungry nose.
A FULLL force, and totally ripe, hot Surströmming fart (far worse than the initial burst of smell from the tin), CLEAN up my nostrils. The reaction was instant.. and completely unaware of her crime and mistaking my convulsions as throws of exstacy, Mrs Humpty ground down harder on my face as I gasped for air.. The enormity of my horror peaked as, in the full grip of natural bolidy rejection, I hoyed my stomach's content, including a large amount of undigested, rotten fish, straight up her pink mitten.
As the fetid herring now deeply stuck in my nostrils caused me to start a gagging fit that would go on to last an apparent eternity, She ran screaming to the bathroom with rotten fish, stomach acid and alcohol dribbling from her burning mimsy.
Oh how we laughed. (much much MUCH later)