From: "Priestess Pisces" <priestesspisces@msn.com>
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Date: Tue, Apr 15, 2003 11:16 PM
Here it is
This is open to guys and girls.
Email priestesspisces(at)msn.com your best Wanking story.
By best it can be funniest, sexiest, weirdest, sickest..
whatever makes it
the best.
Stories will be judged by ME. Don't bitch if I don't like yours.
Rules and Warnings:
(other wise known as the small print)
1-Saying your wanking was centered around a desire for
Pisces doesn't get
you brownie points.
2-While I will NOT publish your story, nor will I Post
it any where on the
web, I MAY read it at XDAY this year. If I am planning
on doing that... and
you are mortified, (pussy..) let me know when you send
the story and I will
CONSIDER your pleas.
3-There is only one winner.
4-There will be a prize.
5-Even if I DON'T read your story- your name WILL be
announced at XDay as
the winner.
that said- email your stories!
--
Priestess Pisces of the 99.44% Anti-Pure
Founder of Wankers for "Bob"
Ask me how to get IN TOUCH with yourself by TOUCHING
yourself!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------
Oh don't bother with the link, you wouldn't get it anyhow
http://www.subgenius.com
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: zosodada@aol.com (Zosodada)
I love to masturbate while driving on
the interstate. Once I noticed an SUV
in the next lane keeping pace with me.
Thinking some other guy was watching
me jack-off, I looked over timidly to
see a very attractive middle-aged
woman staring at me and smiling.
I was embarrassed but also incredibly
turned on, so I decided to give her a
bit of a show. I put the car on
cruise-control, raised my hips so
she could see clearly, and slowly
stroked my cock until I came. The orgasm
was so powerful I lost control of the car,
veering into the woman in the SUV. Her tires
went off the shoulder and her vehicle began
rolling over and over. I could see her screaming
as the vehicle bounced over an abutment and
dissapeared into a ravine. Wow, was she hot!
I hope she survived!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: zosodada@aol.com (Zosodada)
Just kidding.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Artemia Salina" <y2k@sheayright.com>
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. It was the summer
of '89, and I was
on a red eye commuter flight to D.C., headed for a dull
business meeting.
I'd been putting in way too much time on the deal and
was off my sleeping
schedual. As I sat in my seat, going over a few last
minute details, I
drifted off into a very erotic and very vivid fantasy
which involved a
litter of hungry springer spaniel pups, jar of mayonnaise,
and my
stiffly engorged snot rod as the center piece. I completely
lost all
awareness of my surrounds as I drifted deeper into the
fantasy. I
could feel the hot, wet, enthusiastic tongues lapping
happily at my
mayo dipped member. I could feel the dozens of pointy
little toe nails
digging into the flesh of my inner thighs as the puppies
jockied for
position in my lap.
The fantasy was so intense in fact, that I hadn't realized
that I'd
pulled my schlong out of my trousers and was wanking
up a storm. My
arrousal heightened to the point where my orgasm was
imminent, and just
as I began to cum, the flight hit some turbulance. My
instinctive
reaction to this was to tighten my grip, thereby restricting
my
uretheral opening. Now I'm sure that you've had the
experience of being
stuck behind another car who's windshield washers were
misadjusted
so that the spray shot over his roof and landed on your
car. Apparently,
because of the fact that I had restricted my piss hole,
the force of
my ejaculation was multiplied, causing several jets
of hot, milky cum
to shoot over my shoulder and onto the passenger seated
directly behind
me. I could tell without looking that he was reading
a newspaper
because of the distinctive "p-d-d-dat" sound
that my cum made as the
first jet splattered onto it. As the next volley left
the muzzle,
I heard the newspaper drop, and the man leaning forward
in his seat
(probably to chastise me thinking that I was a child
with a water gun,
or something) just in time to receive a hot stripe of
my spoo across his
face.
I continued to spritz him in my revery as he yelled
for the flight
attendant. I mean, hey. What're they gonna do, throw
me off the plane?
--
Research shows that reckless drivers prefer SUVs
over any other type of vehicle.
----== Posted via Newsfeed.Com - Unlimited-Uncensored-Secure
Usenet News==----
http://www.newsfeed.com The #1 Newsgroup Service in
the World! >100,000 Newsgroups
---= 19 East/West-Coast Specialized Servers - Total
Privacy via Encryption =---
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Joe Cosby <joecosby@SPAMBLOCKmindspring.com>
On Wed, 16 Apr 2003 02:13:04 -0400, "Artemia Salina"
<y2k@sheayright.com> wrote:
>
>Anyway, back to the subject at hand. It was the
summer of '89, and I was
>on a red eye commuter flight to D.C., headed for
a dull business meeting.
>I'd been putting in way too much time on the deal
and was off my sleeping
>schedual. As I sat in my seat, going over a few
last minute details, I
>drifted off into a very erotic and very vivid fantasy
which involved a
>litter of hungry springer spaniel pups, jar of mayonnaise,
and my
>stiffly engorged snot rod as the center piece. I
completely lost all
>awareness of my surrounds as I drifted deeper into
the fantasy. I
>could feel the hot, wet, enthusiastic tongues lapping
happily at my
>mayo dipped member. I could feel the dozens of pointy
little toe nails
>digging into the flesh of my inner thighs as the
puppies jockied for
>position in my lap.
>
>The fantasy was so intense in fact, that I hadn't
realized that I'd
>pulled my schlong out of my trousers and was wanking
up a storm. My
>arrousal heightened to the point where my orgasm
was imminent, and just
>as I began to cum, the flight hit some turbulance.
My instinctive
>reaction to this was to tighten my grip, thereby
restricting my
>uretheral opening. Now I'm sure that you've had
the experience of being
>stuck behind another car who's windshield washers
were misadjusted
>so that the spray shot over his roof and landed
on your car. Apparently,
>because of the fact that I had restricted my piss
hole, the force of
>my ejaculation was multiplied, causing several jets
of hot, milky cum
>to shoot over my shoulder and onto the passenger
seated directly behind
>me. I could tell without looking that he was reading
a newspaper
>because of the distinctive "p-d-d-dat"
sound that my cum made as the
>first jet splattered onto it. As the next volley
left the muzzle,
>I heard the newspaper drop, and the man leaning
forward in his seat
>(probably to chastise me thinking that I was a child
with a water gun,
>or something) just in time to receive a hot stripe
of my spoo across his
>face.
>
>I continued to spritz him in my revery as he yelled
for the flight
>attendant. I mean, hey. What're they gonna do, throw
me off the plane?
Y'know I always wondered what, officially, the english
language
representation for the sound of a jet of seminal fluid
hitting a
newspaper from a short distance was. It's one of those
things that
you want to ask but you don't because you figure everybody
else knows
and you will look ill-informed.
Now, I know.
It's "p-d-d-dat".
And evidently everybody else -does- know and this is
a particularly
distinctive sound.
I wonder what you all fuckers get up to, I really do.
Now if I could just figure out why that fucking hippy
was sucking on
that other hippy's sleeve in that men's room in San
Fransisco in 1967
for I could die a happy pink.
--
Joe Cosby
http://joecosby.home.mindspring.com
Those who abandon their dreams will discourage yours.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Modemac <modemac@modemac.com>
On Tue, 15 Apr 2003 23:16:24 -0400, "Priestess
Pisces"
<priestesspisces@msn.com> wrote:
>1-Saying your wanking was centered around a desire
for Pisces doesn't get
>you brownie points.
We don't want brownie points - we want nekkid pics!
I wonder if being caught *not* wanking would come under
this contest.
Back when I was in seventh grade or so, there was an
incident one day
in French class in junior high (I hated that class).
I had to to to
the bathroom *really* bad, to the point where I was
squirming in my
seat and all that. But I couldn't just get up and go
- the teacher
was rather strict and I was doing lousy in the class,
so I didn't want
to get her attention. So I had to "hold it"
until class was done.
The next day, after class the teacher spoke to me and
said that she
saw what I was "doing," and she said that
I'd better "stop doing it"
because I was getting into a lot of trouble. I didn't
have the
faintest idea what she was talking about...though after
thinking about
that every so often, I *think* she thought I was wanking
in my seat,
right there in class. Bleah!
Not much of a wanking story, I know.
--
First Online Church of "Bob"
http://www.modemac.com/
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Kevin Cunningham" <smskjc@mindspring.com>
Oh well, I don't have a wanking story about me, I'm
married so I gave up sex
but I work in the scientific trades and this is a story
I heard while doing
a show. I decided to tell it here since this is such
a small group,
intimate and private. Yeah, right...
One of the sales guys at the show represented a huge
major supplier, usually
another guy, call him Jim, was there rep so I asked
where Jim was. The rep
told me he had been canned because there were ....discrepancies
in his demo
account.
This giant major supplier sold everything, like everything
a scientist could
ever want. One of these things was an Accujack, an
automatic ejaculation
device. All you had to do was insert this in the ass
of the primate and hit
the joy buttont then collect the results. What a great
device!
Well Jim took a great liking to this. He had requested
about 4 large
primate sized Accujacks over a year. Since Yerkes was
the only place that
had large primate (ie gorillas) the company had a few
suspicions. What
Jimbo liked to do was both simple and slimming, get
in his car, plug the
Accujack into the lighter and insert it into his rectum
(rectum, it nearly
killed 'um). He would drive around a campus over lunch
and when he saw some
one he liked he hit the thunder button. Lots of orgasms
and no lunch, what
a great way to loose weight! Oh, and the Accujacks
didn't last last to
long.
Rev. Doc. Junior Mints
Anti-Pope of Atlanta
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgenius.com>
When I was in Third Grade, Mrs. Shertzlinger kept me
after class one
day. I was a model student (then) and couldn't imagine
why. Once she
got the 8 year old Baby Ivan alone, she became very
nervous and, with
great difficulty, told me that I mustn't "do that
with my hands."
During the previous summer, I had discovered entirely
on my own that
humping the edges of certain objects was more fun than
just about
anything in the whole wirde world, because it made my
little peanut of
a pecker feel SOOOOO good. (TRY IT! I'm NOT KIDDING!))
Nobody had told
me anything about this phenomenon so the notion that
it might be "bad."
never entered my head.
Once Third Grade started, I found that the slightly
rounded edges of
the school desks made for perfect humping. One had to
sort of brace
oneself with both hands, and lift oneself up into proper
humping
position. A couple of other kids had asked me why I
did that and I
explained that it felt real good and they just kind
of shrugged.
Mrs. Shertzlinger had, red-faced, had to motion me to
stop a couple of
times in the first few weeks of school, but she had
never actually said
anything before.
So I told her I wouldn't "do that with my hands"
anymore. At this point
I still did not understand that the sight of a child
wildly fucking his
school desk was what was freaking her out. I asked
her WHY. She said,
and I remember this still, "If you keep doing that
with your hands,
you'll have to go to the doctor. Ask your mother."
I took her statement
literally and thought she was talking about my hands.
So when Mammy was driving me home, I asked, "Mammy,
if I push my hands
real real hard against the edge of a desk, will I have
to go to the
doctor? Mrs. Shertzlinger said I would." Mammy
could NOT figure out
where that was coming from and said, "No... why
would your teacher say
that?"
However, I somehow got the picture and ceased public
wanking. Well,
until 1979 or so when "Bob" hired me as Sacred
Scribe. Public wanking
was part of the job description and in a sense I'm doing
it RIGHT THIS
SECOND right in front of everybody.
When my son Ydnax was about 4, he and I were in his
grandma's hot tub,
when I noticed that he was FUCKING one of THE HOT WATER
JET-HOLES on
the inside of the tub. "Ydnax," I cautioned,
"Um, hey man, I know that
feels good but that's... um, private stuff. It freaks
out people,
especially Grandma, if you do that when they're around.
So... just do
it when nobody else is around."
Short pause. After a minute Ydnax said, "Dad, could
you go in the
house, so I can finish doing my private thing?"
I said "NO, you'll just have to wait, like I did."
I was not one of
these modern day permissive-type parents who just let
their kid fuck
the hot tub ANY old time. And if I'd have tought he
was capable of
SPUNKING I wouldn't have let him do it at all.
He's getting married in June. Real nice girl. I wonder
what she'll say
when he says, "Hey, Hon... wanna have a three-way
with the hot tub?"
--
4th Stangian Orthodox MegaFisTemple Lodge of the Wrath
of Dobbs Yeti,
Resurrected (Rev. Ivan Stang, prop.)
P.O. Box 181417, Cleveland, OH 44118 (fax 216-320-9528)
A subsidiary of:
The SubGenius Foundation, Inc. / P.O. Box 204206, Austin,
TX 78720-4206
Dobbs-Approved Authorized Commercial Outreach of The
Church of the SubGenius
SubSITE: http://www.subgenius.com
For SubGenius Biz & Orders: call toll free to 1-888-669-2323
or email: jesus@subgenius.com
PRABOB
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "nu-monet v5.0" <nothing@succeeds.com>
Zosodada wrote:
>
> I love to masturbate while driving on
> the interstate. Once I noticed an SUV
> in the next lane keeping pace with me.
So IT WAS YOU who got Rodney King!
http://tinyurl.com/9nlq
Rodney King smashed SUV into house...
--
Rev. nu-monet
Founder and High Priest
Church of Kali, U.S.A. (Reformed)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: iDRMRSR <idrmrsr@subgenius.com>
Well, this isn't EXACTLY a wanking story, but pretty close.
Back in 1964, I was just a strapping nerdy 14 y/o pimply
faced
pre-Doktor. In those times, before hippies, even before
the Beatles,
and post-Elvis, America was a newly conquered frontier.
While this is
the era when Jet Setters came out, you see, only the
rich could actually
afford to ride on an actual jet.
So instead, the great American family flocked to the
buses! Yes,
Greyhound was running a special, for $99 you could buy
a ticket that
would take you anywhere by bus, round and round the
country, for 90
days.
It was also a time when cold Mid-Westerners relocated
to California in
droves, to escape the horrible winters. Good friends
of my parents, and
a handful of relatives, had in fact expatriated the
cornfields of home
to found a new life in California. Missing them, my
folks decided one
fateful summer to visit them on the cheap tickets.
Bus travel, to a young pre-spunker such as I was, is
the modern
equivalent of the Conestoga caravan. One is exposed
to the darker side
of life, as all bus stations must be located, by law,
in the worst parts
of all towns in America. I learned how to get free
storage in the 50
cent lockers from some bum, who even knew what lever
and rachet to
jiggle to get the previous occupant's 50 cents out of
them to boot.
To such as me, this great country was so large, diverse,
and grand.
Totally too large for my forming teenage brane to comprehend.
But to
get a better view, I had always sought to sit away from
my family and
occupy the seat directly behind the driver on each run.
It was in this seat where I was crossing the Great Salt
Lake in Utah. A
flat expanse the kind I had never imagined before.
But flatness spurs
on boredom, and boredom, in the hormone addled mind
of a teenager,
brings on the old thoughts of boobs and images designed
to do only one
thing...bring on a great well of tumescence in the Willy
zone.
Flatness also spurs on drowsiness, as the slow drone
of the diesel
engine, the quiet mixture of Spanish and English conversations
in the
coach, and the tires eating up miles of Route 66 lulled
me into a hard
and fast REM snooze. Science now recognizes the mystery
of sleep and
its phases, especially as relates to the pubescent male
reproductive
system.
For this deep sleep is the time when, without physical
stimulation, the
prostate, seminal vesicles, capillaries, indeed the
plumbing of the seed
of new life, play like an orchestra in one's pants.
Without so much as
a touch or warm breath, the male body eventually releases
a symphony of
hot spum in the undershorts, causing the unconscious
body to writhe in
pseudo-humping gyrations until the full creamy load
is spent. Awaking
the spurter with a shudder of orgasm.
And a conspicuous, sticky, wet spot on the front of
the chino pants. A
spot whose pheromones filled the bus with the sticky
perfume of cum
sauce, and putatively identified the poor pre-Doctor
Mister Sister as
the origin of the creamy spunk load whose aroma was
arousing the
curiosity of so many riders.
What would save me from embarrassment? If I got up
to pee, or moved, or
did anything else besides emit the odor of fresh gizm,
I would be
devastated. What to do, what to do.
Fortunately, the Great Salt Lake flats is such a great
expanse that it
takes SOME TIME to cross. There are no towns along
the way, no reason
for the bus to stop. Indeed, the next place the bus
should stop was
Winnemuca, NV, a prospicious two hours away from our
present position.
Thank Bob. I remained still in my seat the whole time,
except perhaps
for the wild humpoid gyrations I must have been making
in my sleep.
It's funny how people simply do not expect the worst.
One can commit
the most visible of sins, but because people are basically
so nice, and
not wanting to confront these things, they totally fail
to notice
evidence of even the most horrible crimes committed
in their presence.
Thus, my spooging, so long as I called no further attention
to the
incident, caused me no renown at all. And by the time
we reached
Nevada, Praise Bob!, the cumstain had almost completely
dried. To be
sure, the center was just a bit damp, and the margin
of the stain,
perhaps three inches from the center, had left a slight
brown ring, but
in all, it could be just a spill of Coke.
I was so relieved (in more than one sense)! I was able
to get off the
bus with my dignity intact at the next stop. I was
not fingered as the
source for "that peculiar odor" which the
passengers were discussing as
they debarked from the vehicle into the sumptious splendor
of the
Winnemucca Greyhound Cafeteria.
[*]
-----
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgenius.com>
In article <3E9D5E23.F28C1DA2@subgenius.com>,
iDRMRSR
<idrmrsr@subgenius.com> wrote:
>
> I was so relieved (in more than one sense)! I
was able to get off the
> bus with my dignity intact at the next stop. I
was not fingered as the
> source for "that peculiar odor" which
the passengers were discussing as
> they debarked from the vehicle into the sumptious
splendor of the
> Winnemucca Greyhound Cafeteria.
So that kid was YOU!!! Some of us other passengers were right after all.
Seriously though. I think we were ALL wankers on that bus.
-- ----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "nu-monet v5.0" <nothing@succeeds.com>
Priestess Pisces wrote:
>
> Here it is
> This is open to guys and girls.
> Email priestesspisces(at)msn.com your
> best Wanking story.
I actually have two:
1) Tempe AZ, Marcos de Niza High School had a
biology class featuring a film entitled, "The
Miracle of Birth." Most of the way through the
movie the film broke, and the teacher flicked
the light switch on to fix it. One boy had his
forehead on his desk, like he was sleeping, but
then the girl sitting next to him noticed him
pounding his panda. She let off a high-pitched
alarm. Much joy was had by all but one.
2) West Ft. Hood, TX, a Military Intelligence
Detachment. Captain Bacon(!), the Company
Commander, was taking a group of visiting senior
officers on a tour of his unit. In one of the
barracks, he offered to show them the day room,
but when he opened the door they discovered not
one, but three soldiers, an NCO and two privates,
sitting on easy chairs and loping their mules.
Without thinking, the Captain then automatically
shut the door, with a short, "Oop, as you were!"
command. All the officers just stood there for
a second as what they had just witnessed sunk in.
Then one guy snickered. That's all it took.
--
"you are the weirdest person I've
run across in a very long time.
You even surpass barwell - and that's
hard to do."
--John Schneider II
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: prostata@bronze.coil.com (The Stinking Bishop Prostata Cantata MP)
In article <3E9D6E57.3D18@succeeds.com>,
nu-monet v5.0 <like.excess@sex.org> wrote:
>
>biology class featuring a film entitled, "The
>Miracle of Birth." Most of the way through
the
>movie the film broke, and the teacher flicked
>the light switch on to fix it. One boy had his
>forehead on his desk, like he was sleeping, but
>then the girl sitting next to him noticed him
>pounding his panda.
UGH! That's utterly frightening. When I was a kid
I had trouble
keeping my lunch down durring our version of this film
presentation.
Gah! Some guys find *anything* erotic.
--
ItisbycaffinealonethatIsetmymindinmotion.
Thebeansbecomegrounds thegroundsbecomeespresso
theespressoiscaffine
ItisbycaffinealonethatIsetmymindinmotion.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: prostata@bronze.coil.com (The Stinking Bishop Prostata Cantata MP)
Well not actually a "wanking story" per-se,
I thought I would
share this anyway...
Last night in a fit of boredom and a fair bit of sexual
frustration I decided to work out a few statistics....in
between wanks.
I added together very rough estimations of the number
of times I
have wanked durring the average day for the last 23
years, plus the number
of times I have had actual sex durring the average day
for the last 17
years adjusted yearly for what I remember my "luck"
was running for each
year. Also adjustment has been made for the unfortunate
slowing down with
age, as I am, apparently, no longer young.
I figure that I have produced, at a bare minimum, 32
gallons of jizz
(fortunately not all at once). The output of about 20,000
orgasms.
I'm sure some of you out there can top me in numbers,
and that's not the
point. The fact that I bothered to try to add this
all up and be as
accurate as possible without records and only rough
guestimation is pretty
fucking nerdy if you ask me.
Yep. I was *really* bored last night.
cheers
--
.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
From: nenslo <nenslo@yahooX.com>
"Rev. Ivan Stang" wrote:
>
> When I was in Third Grade, Mrs. Shertzlinger kept
me after class one
> day. I was a model student (then) and couldn't
imagine why. Once she
> got the 8 year old Baby Ivan alone, she became
very nervous and, with
> great difficulty, told me that I mustn't "do
that with my hands."
>
> During the previous summer, I had discovered entirely
on my own that
> humping the edges of certain objects was more fun
than just about
> anything in the whole wirde world, because it made
my little peanut of
> a pecker feel SOOOOO good. (TRY IT! I'm NOT KIDDING!))
Nobody had told
> me anything about this phenomenon so the notion
that it might be "bad."
> never entered my head.
>
> Once Third Grade started, I found that the slightly
rounded edges of
> the school desks made for perfect humping. One
had to sort of brace
> oneself with both hands, and lift oneself up into
proper humping
> position. A couple of other kids had asked me why
I did that and I
> explained that it felt real good and they just
kind of shrugged.
>
> Mrs. Shertzlinger had, red-faced, had to motion
me to stop a couple of
> times in the first few weeks of school, but she
had never actually said
> anything before.
>
> So I told her I wouldn't "do that with my
hands" anymore. At this point
> I still did not understand that the sight of a
child wildly fucking his
> school desk was what was freaking her out. I asked
her WHY. She said,
> and I remember this still, "If you keep doing
that with your hands,
> you'll have to go to the doctor. Ask your mother."
I took her statement
> literally and thought she was talking about my
hands.
>
> So when Mammy was driving me home, I asked, "Mammy,
if I push my hands
> real real hard against the edge of a desk, will
I have to go to the
> doctor? Mrs. Shertzlinger said I would." Mammy
could NOT figure out
> where that was coming from and said, "No...
why would your teacher say
> that?"
>
> However, I somehow got the picture and ceased public
wanking. Well,
> until 1979 or so when "Bob" hired me
as Sacred Scribe. Public wanking
> was part of the job description and in a sense
I'm doing it RIGHT THIS
> SECOND right in front of everybody.
>
> When my son Ydnax was about 4, he and I were in
his grandma's hot tub,
> when I noticed that he was FUCKING one of THE HOT
WATER JET-HOLES on
> the inside of the tub. "Ydnax," I cautioned,
"Um, hey man, I know that
> feels good but that's... um, private stuff. It
freaks out people,
> especially Grandma, if you do that when they're
around. So... just do
> it when nobody else is around."
>
> Short pause. After a minute Ydnax said, "Dad,
could you go in the
> house, so I can finish doing my private thing?"
>
> I said "NO, you'll just have to wait, like
I did." I was not one of
> these modern day permissive-type parents who just
let their kid fuck
> the hot tub ANY old time. And if I'd have tought
he was capable of
> SPUNKING I wouldn't have let him do it at all.
>
> He's getting married in June. Real nice girl. I
wonder what she'll say
> when he says, "Hey, Hon... wanna have a three-way
with the hot tub?"
>
This is one of the best stories you ever wrote.
Original file name: WANKERS FOR _BOB_ CO.txt - converted on Thursday, 29 May 2003, 16:37
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