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Porno..

He was REME.

That will come as no surprise to many on this site. We have something of a reputation for deviancy ...but even I have limits! I'm sure @Taff49 will have a couple of belters up his sleeve for this thread :-D

Porn is awesome, isn't it? well, on your own it is, porn in a room full of your mates brings with it all sorts of additional issues. I still have a copy of "Maximum Perversium" on VHS from the Fatherland, I've had it longer than I have had some of my spanners and that's a LONG time.

As a singly full screw, I had a four man room to myself, complete with mandatory old-pads-sofa, unused weight set, fridge full of Becks and a toasted sandwich maker. As was correct at that unit, it was pretty much party central as I also had a ginourmous telly AND Sky, making me very much King Shit on that corridor. Such status come with many benefits, I would welcome other singlies into watch sporting events and then “request” that they lend me their grot. By fuck, some of them were awesome.

We got back from GV in late ’96, so we were also at the handover/takeover for VHS/DVD. One in particular stands out, a rather chubby chap with acne and a Slavic accent was stripped and shouted at by two blonde ladies sporting those poor quality tattoos prevalent in parts of Eastern Europe. They preceded to batter the bloke all around his bollocks before making him dress up in a corset and stockings. He was then kicked to the floor, and both the blondes then shat directly into his open mouth. They actually wiped after shitting on him (I lost wood at about this point) and perched the used paper at a jaunty angle on top of their brown offerings. And fade to black…

We had a CFT the following morning and that went off as well as usual. My fitter section Sgt asked if he could grab a shower and sort himself out after the CFT in my room. Course you can mate, there is bread for toast, cornflakes coffee, etc, help yourself. I’ve got to get a shift on though, so I’ll leave you to your own devices and make sure you leave the key in my pigeon hole. Job jobbed.

Now, I was supposed to be on a driver training course that morning (short version – despite being a full screw VMA, the Guards insisted that I do their driver training conversion course). These are fairly basic and after half an hour of the instructor pointing out road wheels with a snooker cue and us candidates all repeating “road wheel”, I had a quiet word and we agreed that I could be excused until we got to the actual driving bit.

So, I headed back to my room for a morning of play station and toast. Unfortunately, Sgt was still in my room. He had showered and was sprawled on my sofa, gland in one hand & remote in the other, watching the double shitting scene and stroking his purple-tinged member with all the ferocious energy of Nick Griffin hailing a taxi outside the MoBo awards.

All in all, an unexpected turn of events and one that introduced a new dynamic to our relationship. I did get to finger his wife a few months later but that’s not strictly related to the porn aspect of the tale.
 
Most disturbing one I ever saw was after a few weeks in Boschland at my first unit I wandered into one of the other four-man rooms.
Half the Sqn were in there, including a couple of the bints, watching the TV screen intently.
On screen is a bloke tied down to an armchair, stark bollocky buff, cheese wire tied tightly around his member and happy sacks.
Bird laid back on a bed in front of him, banging away at her chuff with fingers and a variety of phallic objects.
The harder he gets, the more the cheese wire cuts in to his manflesh, when the pain caused him to lose wood she doubles her efforts until the cheesewire draws blood and he blows his load.
I'd like to think that no-one in the room was actually turned on by the display and were only watching in morbid fascination.
 

rooster_teeth

War Hero
porn in a room full of your mates brings with it all sorts of additional issues

I'm full of Kosovo dits today. The markets in Pristina had some truly outstanding DVDs, there was a fair old footprint being covered by individual patrols every day and night with some heading out with given taskings (hence officers from various NATO contributors periodically being nicked sticking it up frightened teenagers in mafia type controlled brothels) so identifying and shutting down those peddling extreme/child porn was always flagged up on orders prior to us heading out.

Anyway grot was appearing everywhere courtesy of said markets but in the absence of individual TVs you had 2 choices to sling one out dependent on where you were located. Either sweat out a late night danger wnak in a thunderbox or if on Ops Rm stag set your stall up facing the door and risk squeezing one out with one eye on the TV, one on the door and your ears working away like fcuking Bat-fink for the slightest sign of boots moving on concrete outside in the corridor.

In our own little temporary corner of Kosovo the galley was a massive tent manned by an alcoholic pongo chef who would admirably appear in the early hours with lukewarm bacon and egg banjos for any of us that were coming in late off a patrol or job, hoofing bloke. In the middle of the tent there was a massive TV and a DVD player, we'd whack on a film whilst eating and the odd group would pile in there on a night to waste a few hours glued to the box before getting some shuteye.

One morning everyone was getting squared away with food and the tent slowly filled up with the 30 odd or so of us that lived there, someone switched the TV on and the DVD player then swung into life, after a brief set of images of German words it shot straight into a black screen with just hardcore euro rave music blasting out for a minute that got everyone's attention then it revealed its true content, a roomful of young shaven headed young men making each other airtight. Much protestations and comedy 'being sick' noises were made but it was a decent stitch up, over the next couple of days it was on all the time, pushing porridge round a paper bowl whilst watching a daisy chain of plugged asreholes or a mash of cock sucking teenage boys became quite the norm, in essence it was a case of who could watch/stomach the most, on a more sinister note though it disappeared and seemingly not into the gash bin or the skip as we tore them apart in the hunt for it, I'd imagine it was either swiftly self posted home on the next run into town or was smuggled out with a 'Soldier Soldier Dont Tape Over' sticker on the front :)

(Also there is always 1 jammy cnut on tour who manages to bag off and so isn't in need of quality tour grot. Griff was ours, he was banging a stunning 'terp and to secure the continual emptying of his pod's inside of her daily he promised to take her to the UK and marry her and said she could bring her whole family, he did a perfect impression of a hologram and disappeared instantly to a course back in the UK rendering her walking round asking everyone 'wheres eees Greeeef, where eees Greeeef??!!' and crying lots.
 
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Also there is always 1 jammy cnut on tour who manages to bag off and so isn't in need of quality tour grot. Griff was ours, he was banging a stunning 'terp and to secure the continual emptying of his pod's inside of her daily he promised to take her to the UK and marry her and said she could bring her whole family, he did a perfect impression of a hologram and disappeared instantly to a course back in the UK rendering her walking round asking everyone 'wheres eees Greeeef, where eees Greeeef??!!' and crying lots.

For the bit in Bold alone I would like to give you at least ten 'likes.' Edited to add, 'tour wives' were a topic of conversation yesterday in the OWOB...
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
Thanks Taff, never one to let the side down.

Faced with the same situation I can't say for sure how I'd react... Quietly back away and let the man unleash his obvious frustration? Or interrupt him, mid thrap, to avoid him coughing his yoghurt on what is presumably a sofa with an already impressive collection of bodily fluids?

Can imagine you rattling a bird on there some time later when she spots an obvious mark of dried jism... "ew, wtf is that?" ...at which point you can spin her some quality dits along the lines of "that's definitely Sgt Smith's. This one here is an early Taff stain from Baywatch series 2, episode 8. This one was from when my sister stayed over once with her bloke..." She'd love it I'm sure. Everyone appreciates a good dit :)
 
Watched a film called 'freaky dicks' purchased from a reputable small shit hole, strategically placed across from Podujevo TFA gates.
One scene involved a skank who swallowed a large chap, then things took a turn for the worse, he must have had some weird surgery to the eye hole as the lady repeatedly forced a thin dildo down his japs eye, i remember a few scrunched up faces in the room !!
 
Thanks Taff, never one to let the side down.

Faced with the same situation I can't say for sure how I'd react... Quietly back away and let the man unleash his obvious frustration? Or interrupt him, mid thrap, to avoid him coughing his yoghurt on what is presumably a sofa with an already impressive collection of bodily fluids?

Can imagine you rattling a bird on there some time later when she spots an obvious mark of dried jism... "ew, wtf is that?" ...at which point you can spin her some quality dits along the lines of "that's definitely Sgt Smith's. This one here is an early Taff stain from Baywatch series 2, episode 8. This one was from when my sister stayed over once with her bloke..." She'd love it I'm sure. Everyone appreciates a good dit :)

No, the geography of the room was such that, as soon as the door was open, he was plainly visible. He didn't finish off.
 

Doughbag

Swinger
The harder he gets, the more the cheese wire cuts in to his manflesh, when the pain caused him to lose wood she doubles her efforts until the cheesewire draws blood and he blows his load.
I'd like to think that no-one in the room was actually turned on by the display and were only watching in morbid fascination.
I just got turned on by reading about it.
 
I've never seen such long and detailed posts on any subject on this site ever. Just an observation.
 

ugly

LE
Moderator
Well Germany as a 17 year old in 1981 was really an eye opener! I was fine in the most but there was this one pad called Cider who had a penchant for DAP but bloke on bloke. In 1981 that was just odd, the guard room could be an uncomfortable place if one had to stag on with Cider. I later met his wife and it was obvious why he went that way!
 
Well Germany as a 17 year old in 1981 was really an eye opener! I was fine in the most but there was this one pad called Cider who had a penchant for DAP but bloke on bloke. In 1981 that was just odd, the guard room could be an uncomfortable place if one had to stag on with Cider. I later met his wife and it was obvious why he went that way!
DAP?
 

ugly

LE
Moderator
Deep anal penetration in 1981 bloke on bloke was fairly extreme even by baor standards!
 
alcoholic pongo chef who would admirably appear in the early hours with lukewarm bacon and egg banjos for any of us that were coming in late off a patrol or job,

Army chef you say? Alcoholic you say? Porn on hand you say?

The eggs weren't particularly runny were they?

Just saying like...
 
Noticed Spaz had mentioned some quality 90s grot on another thread that got me misty eyed!

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0293934/

Not heard of ‘Stop! My Ass is on Fire!’ for donkey's years, for the uninitiated it was a classic series of straight forward, plotline thin quality grot that proudly propagated rough and prolonged botty sex as the new 'in thing', it was right up there with Hustlers fcuking jaw dropping Barely Legal series 1 – 130, a high quality, knuckle whitening affair on VHS tape that I witnessed near grown men fight over, it was another era straddling collection of game changing high end grumble that as far back as the mid 90s was firing out richly coloured films devoid of comedy dubbing and complete with a real time professional soundtrack, enormous beauty pageant style hairdos and 18 year old, tan lined and high heel sporting birds that were still wearing a bit of bikini friendly but well maintained lady fur, awesome stuff and all in amongst some fearsomely dire but genuinely p*ss funny plot lines, downside was that they came with the obligatory and lengthy, unhurried close ups of desperately concentrating male faces, bronzed and hairy man ass and pendulous scrotums driving their junk home and all interspersed with humorous and much imitated bits of scripted dialogue that sometimes put you right off your stroke, sometimes leaving you with just 2 options, either ride out the current scene full of bonk dialogue or attempt to maintain your reasonably solid state by quickly squeezing the blood filled base of your pan handle whilst furiously fishing around your immediate surroundings with your free hand for the remote control to fast forward to a more agreeable sequence.

It was a classic time though of turbo hetero male porn names as well, Dale Dabone, Brian Surewood, Herschel Savage and (my personal favourite) Randy Spears, it earned me an elbow delivered dig in the ribs once off her when I spat out ‘Randy Spears’ as my name to the receptionist booking us in one night at a hotel in Grassington that we stayed in after I slowly dragged/carried and encouraged her over Helvellyn to a soundtrack of constant moaning, I wouldn’t of minded but it was her idea to go for a wander, borne of a sense of guilt of doing nothing at weekends she moaned at me to find something appropriate to do, she stormed off once after 5 minutes at an indoor climbing wall after piling in repeatedly and then got a major sad on the weekend after when I wouldn’t let her win at squash. Anyhow I suggested a bit of a walk one weekend and hinted at a bit of mutual hip bashing in a hotel after, we partly succeeded in our aim in that we finished the walk but instead of some steamy hotel/intertwined in the shower sex action post yomp I chose to sit downstairs with a 3 day old copy of the Daily Telegraph and steadily drank all of the hotels supply of red After Shock and most of their bottles of Budweiser, many hours later after getting my head down I found myself being steered firmly back into our room by her after I had apparently slipped out, completely bollocky whilst still fast asleep and started leisurely p*ssing in the corridor.

Anyway I digress, the first 'Stop my Ass is on Fire' tape we passed round the room was in its actual original case (a rarity in the block if I remember right) with a leggy brunette bongo merchant called Jasmine St Claire on the cover, down on her knees, resplendent in red thigh high boots with her face pressed hard and side on down into the floor looking over her shoulder and expertly working the doe eyed and frightened look. To complete the image her bare arse was sticking up high and proud with a badly super imposed colour image of some very angry flames that were scarily reminiscent of the burning Kuwaiti Oil Field photos of GW1 fame spewing out from her hoop.

As was standard with any half decent skin flick that was rapidly doing the rounds it disappeared into thin air in that ‘porno roulette’ game you play in the block where tentatively lending out your finest skin flicks could result in you never seeing it again, which, as in my case left me short of primo shuffle material and that eventually found me having to fish out my own trusty 'old faithful' bit of grumble, a battered old tape with a grey blank sticker on it I had bought in school years earlier for a fiver and a flint less Zippo lighter with a Metallica badge on the front that I’d found in a derelict hospital we used to fcuk about in (well I say ‘fcuk about’, it was being prepped for demolition so we had immense fun at 14 sneaking in through the fence line and, whilst completely hidden in various positions on different floors and shielded from view throwing chunks of masonry at the sole portacabin on site that housed the 2 near octogenarian security guards who would huff and puff like fcuk up and down the many empty floors searching in vain for us until we got either got bored and snuck off to cause bother elsewhere or had ensnared them into chasing us around the entire site as if in some Ealing comedy.)

My ‘old faithful’ contained 2 full hours of the typical of period grainy British porn, all wobbly camera work and bad sound and with a seriously off putting and continual off camera 'cockney geezer' type commentary throughout, between the lead dick swinger and the cameraman they filled the tape pretty consistently with near identical in content, hotel based single set pieces of a grubby 40 something black bloke in baggy multi coloured tracksuit bottoms, a vest and a comedy pony tail called Omar who sported a hugely impressive penis pretending to pick up random howlers on the streets of London with just a bit of cheeky small talk, after a quick cut scene to them sat in a moving black cab with Omar gleefully rubbing their porky thighs they were then poised to begin, stood in silence in what looked suspiciously like a Forte Hotel room where he then simply rutted away for 20 minutes pausing only to flip, twist, turn and manoeuvre the clearly bored gronk, lathered in heavy makeup and sporting 10 square foot of decorative stretch marks and who close to the end grimaced as if having a flu jab in the eyeball when Omar spat out his stringy white offering over their upturned grinner’s.

Shame though, internet porn is a complicated minefield and you can spend more time looking for something satisfactory to tug along too than pulling on your pud itself! I miss those halcyon days when a straight forward girl/girl scene or a bit of euro double penetration would satiate your NAAFI break shuffle needs, now I can’t even raise a smile unless some birds asrehole is being stretched to the size of a fruit bowl and is being spat into by a succession of what look like World of Warcraft players or if its something like a very dodgy and borderline legal video of a questionably aged teen crying her eyes out taking on a roomful of old men completely bareback, in all holes and being slapped about continuously with the soundtrack from Frozen on in the background drowning out her cries.

What were your porn highs and lows?


Fuck me don't let @Tinman74 see this thread - He'll be stone dead before he's finished reading your opening post.....
 

rooster_teeth

War Hero
Army chef you say? Alcoholic you say? Porn on hand you say?

The eggs weren't particularly runny were they?

Just saying like...

He was a belter, could flash fry bacon in seconds and did mega marmite covered roast spuds! There were a load of old sheds to the far end of the site that was full of donated stuff for the local populace, although it wasn't raided as such we had a good root through it all, I did bag an electric toothbrush sans battery, a t shirt with Timmy Mallet on the front and some scented bars of soap from the Body Shop that were swiftly deployed with me lathering up under the nearest solar shower.
 

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