Humiliation and disgust - clever

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Porridge_gun, Oct 14, 2011.

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  1. Porridge_gun

    Porridge_gun LE Good Egg (charities)

    There are few things more joyous than the look of embarrassment and the look of sheer disgust on your Mrs face. I strive to achieve it as often as possible but three nights ago gave the rare opportunity to embarrass, disgust and make her want to vanish in one instant.

    She's been a good girl so thought we'd go up country for a night in a posh hotel. Everything was perfect, Mediterranean view, room service on tap delivering a cocktail of stuff to render me stupid and incoherrant in a very short space of time. we stayed in the hotel, ate there, made the most of peace and quiet and she was treated to several lengths of sword throughout the evening and into the early hours.

    The bed was enormous, I could have the entire Russain Olympic gymnastic squad perform their floor routine on it, so when I awoke in a mist of my own musk and beery guff vapour in the morning I couldn't see her. On shouting her, she hollered from the balcony that she'd ordered room service and coffee etc was on the way.

    A plan was hatched, I know that if I adopt the fetal position my trumps become not just loud, they sound like thunder. 39 years of finding them funny and clever have, without being big headed made me one of the highest standard farters on the planet today.

    She'd left the door ajar so senor spic could waltz in, leaving the coffee on the table in the loungy bit of the suite. I adjusted the sheets on the football pitch bed leaving just a glimpse of botty exposed at the side of the bed, out of sight of the doris.

    The maid arrived, not a geezer like the night before but a very pretty Spanish girl that I could see through the mirror through a tiny peephole I'd made in my warm but scented den. As she placed down the coffee I managed to summons a noise that made me laugh before I'd even finished pushing it out. It was loud, oozing character, volumous and with instant scent that filled the air like a fog bandit. I was elated at the delivery, perfect in every way. I leaned over and gave the shocked and clearly uncomfortable waitress a tip, tears almost streaming down my face.

    The doris, upon hearing the first few decibles of my welcoming rapture let out a slight squeal, ran out onto the balcony and started to hyperventilate. She was gutted, humiliated, disgusted and hysterical all at the same time.

    I walked backtowards the beds, cupped my balls in the mirror, poured a brew and silently saluted myself.

    Has anyone else gassed someone in the service industry or humiliated a partner to the point they nearly choke or wish themselves dead?
    • Like Like x 16
  2. You cut and pasted that, didn't you? There's no way on God's green earth you'd waste money on taking your lass away.
    • Like Like x 1
  3. You're disgustingly funny PG.

    I hate to admit it, but its true.

    Thanks for the first, and probably best, laugh of the day.
    • Like Like x 1
  4. The only thing that could improve this fine tale would have been an incident at the end, rendering the story suitable for the 'following through - the sport of kings' thread. Fine efforts all round good Sir!
  5. BiscuitsAB

    BiscuitsAB LE Moderator

    I find it best when you have a captive audience, and as such on the way down to Paris the other week after a week of seriously high protein diet I let one rip that left the Mrs gagging, both hands over her mouth and at the same time trying to wind down the window.
  6. When I was a young soldier I had the fortune of getting away for a spot of adventurous-drinking/skiing down in the glorious mountains of Bavaria. I had ski'd before so got chucked into the advanced group exploring the higher mountains, and faster runs.

    A couple days of the usual routine that consisted of getting up, scran in the lodge, pan bashing, up to the mountain, skiing, back to the lodge, getting cunted on whatever/where-ever we could find a beer had well and truly scrambled my guts.

    Mid one morning we were on the Gondola. Not the small 6 man number that takes you from the town to the summit, but the big fuck off gondola that take 60 people from the peak of one range across a big fuck off void to the peak of another range.

    As per usual, we were all crammed in. Stood a little too close to each other for comfort, holding our skis, and trying not to wretch with the constant inhalation of each other boozy, cigarette tainted breath.

    I felt it coming. You know the though a 1 kilo ball of lead had just dropped inside your stomach. Clenching arrse cheeks for a short period seemed to do the trick, and the obnoxious ball of gas retreated....briefly. It caught me unawares, totally off guard. In my short moment of smugness, revelling in my small victory over my body I had let my sphincter relax a little too much.

    To be fair, it wasn't noisy. Well if it was I certainly didn't hear it, and no-one gave me any looks as it errupted. A moment.....nothing. Phew, got away with that, and it didn't even smell! How wrong was I! The amount of layers I had on had clearly slowed it's progress, but nonetheless it made it's way to atmosphere, through my jacket, and escaped right under my nose. It fucking stank is an understatement. I couldn't possibly begin to describe it. I stood there, still, watching the people around me as their expressions changed from boredom, to curiosity. The little twitch of the nose, as if the person is thinking "I'm sure I just got a hint of something," then the look of disgust as my fetid ricker aroma slowly made it's way round the cabin like an invisible Mexican wave.

    A few of the lads were giving accusing looks at each other. A few of ze Germans looked genuinely disgusted, and a couple of the gents had no qualms in getting vocal.

    I just stood there, smug.....admiring my skills.

    When the gondola finally docked, and the doors slid open a stampede unsued. Our ski instructor (an RGJ lad called Del) stood us all in a line, sparked up a fag and catagorically stated "Right you cunts.....I know that was one of you fuckers. That was fucking disgusting. If I find ou......" I switched off at that point, stepped into my skis and sparked up, prepping for the next run.
    • Like Like x 9
  7. TheIronDuke

    TheIronDuke LE Book Reviewer

    I followed through once when the Memsahib was asleep with her thigh up my crack, but we've all done that so no comparison to the OP. Rule fucking Britannia is all I can say.
    • Like Like x 1
  8. Your bird does get around a bit.
    • Like Like x 3
  9. I once read that the best way to embarrass the wife is to stand up and state loudly, in a restaurant or polite company,

    'This tartar sauce tastes just like my spunk, doesn't it?'
    • Like Like x 2
  10. I was seriously impressed with Mrs toppers when we moved into our first flat, she managed a fart of such horrific proportions that she, the cat and I had to leave the room for some time. It was so impressive I attempted to bottle it in an old jam jar.
  11. I like to wait till the missus is in the shower and washing her hair so she can't see me walk in. Very quietly I slide open the shower screen juuuusst enough to poke my naked arse through the gap.
    I usually like to bake a fart for a while so when I fumigate the shower there is a larde percentage of shit particles/rancid stench.
    Strangely Mrs. Rutar doesn't seem to see the inherent humour in this,but who gives a fuck.
    • Like Like x 2
  12. Brilliant..

    Thee old 'Backdoor cough'.. Always a winner
  13. Ravers

    Ravers LE Reviewer Book Reviewer

    Not bottom trumping related but it certainly disgusted my missus to the point that she refused to speak to me for a day.

    One of my bezzy oppos, a lad I joined up with and who was best man at my wedding, came to stay one night. As is the law, we got disgustingly drunk and the missus sloped off to bed, sensing that her pressence was not required, leaving us to catch up over a few bottles of port.

    The next morning I woke up, still pissed and decided to give Derek a wake up call. I crept into the spare room climbed onto the sofa bed and knelt over him, legs astride his head.

    I then flopped out my winky and bounced it repeatedly off his forehead until he awoke from his slumber. He didn't seem particularly bothered and just licked his lips.

    Turns out the missus had been stood in the doorway and seen the whole thing. She still doesn't really understand.
    • Like Like x 8
  14. One that went down really well with the first Mrs CB was "You are never a size 16!" in the middle of Marks's
  15. The worst I've ever done was back in my school days.

    Sitting through a highly boring leson of R.E. (Religious Education). You know where they tell you religion isn't bad, and that foreign people worship false idols and shit. Anyway it was just after lunch,and having consumed my own body weight in the stodgy shit that passes for food in school, I lent over to one side, to give maximum distance between my arse cheeks and let rip a long, noiseless guff.

    Within seconds the three other lads on my table were going a nice puce colour as they choked on my bizarre cabbage and sprout tasting stench (bizarre, because I hadn't had cabbage or sprouts). The kids the other side of the class started laughing as my table mates all tried to get away from me.

    They didn't laugh long. Slowly but surely the mustard gas that was my arse aroma spread to emcompass the entire room. Kids were fighting each other to open windows and lean out to escape my noxious vapours. One kid was knocked over in the stampede to get the door and cut his head open on the edge of a table. Even the teacher was gagging as he tried to restore calm.

    Eventually I was left alone in the room that was now devoid of any other pupils, smug in the satisfaction that my anal stink bomb had infused itself into their nasal cavities, and hopefully scarred them for life.
    • Like Like x 4