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Today looked to be enormously boring at first, but then about an hour after I got there, they hit me with about a weeks worth of work to do in two days. Heh.

One of the jobs not normally entrusted to me is the installation of the expensive network devices. In this case its a managed switch, although reading up on these things it sounds more like a bridge - but in any case, I had to install it. The district systech doesn't usually trust me with a whole lot, although I've managed to get it through his (thick, old) skull lately that I'm not a total moron. Installing it was a doddle, but still took me the better part of an hour. Had lunch, then had to unpack and set up a couple of new computers for the Year 7's. This is just tedious work.

Later at home, I decided while on the phone to Emma that I would check for sure that what they had sent me was a Duron 900, because on default bootup it was coming up as an 850. I had this fantastically long journal entry written up, as well as a nice long comment on Chris's last post, when I brushed the "Power" button on the new keyboard. Fuuuuuck. Who the hell uses those keys anyway? I got rid of them. It was a good enough chance as any to check the chip, and sure enough, its actually an 850.

They fucking screwed me. Well, technically my Dad, but my name's on the order too.

So anyway, I remember this true story from a BLP a while back, so I found it and typed it up. The more I read it, the more fake it sounds. But then, these letters are always re-written to engage the reader a bit more (They have to be! Could you imagine if they published the original letter?). I've been trying to decide if its a story with moral value for the regular readers of BLP Forum, or a true story re-written, or a bit of both. I'll give it the benefit of the doubt.

Bigger isn't necessarily better, as Susan found out.

When I was 18, my boyfriend Alex and I went back to our home town to visit friends. our mate Mitch had a new girlfriend, Helena. She and I hit it off straight away, enjoying sexual banter, teasting our men and eventually dirty dancing together as the night wore on.

Fearing a riot Alex dragged us outside and lectured me about my behaviour. I rubbed up against him and managed to get the motel key. Helena and I then bolted off down the street, giggling and pulling our dresses up to show off rounded butts.

We were sitting on the motel double bed, clad only in G-strings, when our men arrived. Alex took a bottle of port from me and smashed it in the sink. Mitch was thoroughly astonished at his new girlfriend, but excited all the same. He picked Helena up, lay her down on the single bed, and began kissing her. Meanwhile, Alex had undressed, then turned the lights off and got in bed next to me. He didn't touch me. Instead he began quietly telling me what a slut I was, and how embarrassed he was and so on and so on. Abruptly, he got up and went to the bathroom.

My eyes were now fully adjusted to the dark, and I could clearly see Helena hanging onto the bedhead, riding Mitch's face, her firm breasts swinging with the rhythm of her movement. Before I knew what I was doing, I was kneeling on the floor caressing her breasts, and sucking on her pink nipples.

Alex came out of the bathroom, and stumbled over me. Amazed, he leaned down and kissed me tenderly, then alternated between kissing Helena and I on the mouth, shoulders and breasts, as did Mitch. Then I was up on the single bed in Mitch's arms, and Alex was leading Helena away to the double bed.

Mitch had made it plain for years that he wanted to get in my pants, and whilst the feeling wasn't mutual, I had heard that he was well endowed ...

I straddled Mitch in a 69er. The stories were true! Soon I was having trouble containing his member in my mouth and he wasn't completely hard yet. As I was contemplating the consequences of being fucked by such an awesome member, Mitch rammed his index finger hard and fast up my pussy. I gagged and half-choked, yet a muffled scream still escaped from around that monster cock, as his finger reached the end of my vagina and tore through the cervix into the uterus.

Akex looked up from between Helena's thighs, his face dripping with her juice, and said, "Hey Mitch, no damaging the merchandise!".

Though sex was now out of the question for me, I didn't want to ruin everyone else's night. I wiped the tears from my eyes, turned around and whispered in my sexiest bedroom voice that I wanted to drink Mitch's juice. I focused all my energy on his cock, trying to ignore the burning pain in my belly, and make him come as quickly as possible, so I could curl up in a corner and cry.

Suddenly, Mitch rammed his middle finger into me again, further tearing my cervix. This time, my mouth was off his cock and I couldn't stifle a blood-curdling scream or stop my tears.

Alex lifted me gently off the bed, and he held me hard against his naked chcest. "That's enough Mitch. You've hurt her."

He tenderly kissed my tears away, and carried me over to the double bed, where Helena was still lying, legs spread. "C'mon baby, why don't you put on a show for Mitch and I", my boyfriend urged. The look he gave Mitch would have stopped a charging bull.

As Helena started to explore me with her mouth, I heard the door shut as Mitch left.

Then Alex joined in but sadly, the pain from my torn cervix was returning. I whispered to Helena that I wanted her to fuck my man real good. With that, I went into the bathroom, and closed the door.

I collapsed on the cold bathroom floor, delirious with the pain. I hoped that Alex was having a really good fuck, because I knew that I'd be out of action for quite a while ...

Alex found me next morning, lying in a pool of blood. He picked me up, showered me and dressed me like a child. The motel room was empty; the bed was a mess of tangled sheets, sweat, dried blood, pussy juice, port and no doubt a lot of slobber.

He put me in the car, and we drove home. He said that he didn't end up fucking Helena, because it wasn't the same after I left, and that despite my brave urgings, he knew that I was in pain. He then confessed that he felt some what responsible for me getting hurt, as, during "pub talk", he had mentioned to Mitch that I "liked it rough". Just the same, I knew I had found a soul mate for life.

Naively, I didn't go straight to the doctor. When I finally did, he shipped me off to a gynaecologist so fast that it made my head spin. He found that I had advanced pelvic inflammatory disease, and that I was considered "medically small", and should "avoid inserting large objects in my vagina". Eventually I returned to a "normal" sex life. Now, if I see a cock bigger than seven inches - or disproportionately large hands for that matter - I run in the opposite direction.


( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 2nd, 2001 05:54 am (UTC)
ooh eck :\

thats a nasty pain, that one.
and kill mitch, he's icky!
Aug. 2nd, 2001 06:07 am (UTC)
Ostracism! The way you wrote it there makes it look like a procedure that involves a guillotine. :P
Aug. 2nd, 2001 06:09 am (UTC)
I know ... its intended, of course.
Aug. 2nd, 2001 06:11 am (UTC)
Fine, fine, spoil my evil pedantry, see if I care. *falls over*

Can I go home now?
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )


Steve P
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