Jblazingphoenix100
Ex-Bluelighter
^I cringed... 
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SLR Moderators: Senior Staff
Have you ever gone down on someone and refused to carry out the act...?
- Thread starter citizen cained
- Start date
Raz
Bluelighter
hahahahaha omg @ mr.buffnstuff....that is the best story ever 
I have only refused to go down on guys a couple of times from memory....once because there were visible warts and that shit is nasty......another time, the guy had a foreskin, and while I am all for natural guy smells, there is a limit. This guy had so much cheese I was almost gagging.
In those situations, fuck tact....if you can't maintain basic personal hygiene, it is not my job to break it to you gently that you're fucking gross.
I have only refused to go down on guys a couple of times from memory....once because there were visible warts and that shit is nasty......another time, the guy had a foreskin, and while I am all for natural guy smells, there is a limit. This guy had so much cheese I was almost gagging.
In those situations, fuck tact....if you can't maintain basic personal hygiene, it is not my job to break it to you gently that you're fucking gross.
Jblazingphoenix100
Ex-Bluelighter
^ eurrghh..so glad I'm circumcized this this exact reason...smegma must b the most disgusting thing EVER... I know what it' like when you've had a new piercing, but to encounter that with your mouth and nose at the same time...arrghhh
mr.buffnstuff
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 19, 2010
- Messages
- 1,124
hahahahaha omg @ mr.buffnstuff....that is the best story ever
I have only refused to go down on guys a couple of times from memory....once because there were visible warts and that shit is nasty......another time, the guy had a foreskin, and while I am all for natural guy smells, there is a limit. This guy had so much cheese I was almost gagging.
Oh my days! that must be awful! :/ yeh there is a line that needs to be drawn! haha I really wish what i posted wasnt true, but i dont think i could even think that up in the darkest part of my mind! honest to god it haunted my thoughts for months! her name was Donna so if anyones ever round skegness/ingolmells way on and feeling lonely im sure youll be able to sniff her out!
Some of you are BOSSES on this topic!! Eeuurrgghhh.... if he needs a shower I will give him a shower. I always have soap and a washcloth in my purse. Water is easy to get.
Do any others in this forum sort of like a bit of flesh that smells like flesh??
I like the way a slightly damp sweaty nutsack smells. I am dead serious. But stink is different because its stink and no thank you, I don't suck it. I wash it. Then I'll suck it. (It isn't a bad idea to have wetnaps, washclothes, a little bar of soap and such like in the purse or stashed away in the car. What if he just took a shower but I haven't had one since the night before? I always want to have the option to wash no matter where I am, because my lifestyle isn't normal. At least that's what some BLers tell me. 8))
Do any others in this forum sort of like a bit of flesh that smells like flesh??
I like the way a slightly damp sweaty nutsack smells. I am dead serious. But stink is different because its stink and no thank you, I don't suck it. I wash it. Then I'll suck it. (It isn't a bad idea to have wetnaps, washclothes, a little bar of soap and such like in the purse or stashed away in the car. What if he just took a shower but I haven't had one since the night before? I always want to have the option to wash no matter where I am, because my lifestyle isn't normal. At least that's what some BLers tell me. 8))
pofacedhoe
Bluelight Crew
you dont need to be circumcised to avoid cheese, just wash its pretty simple and saves you having to rip off your foreskin
Jblazingphoenix100
Ex-Bluelighter
I know you have to wash it!! (HAHAHA)...I'm just saying, I glad I don't need to worry about it at all, it's something non-existent on my dick.
billabong
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jul 10, 2010
- Messages
- 64
Oh man!
I broke up with a really smart sexy girl because of BV = Bacterial Vaginitis.
I just could not figure out how she could not smell it herself.. i mean talk about Voodoo Butter Panties.... whoooaaaaghh! *retches*
I did tell her, nicely, but she had some issue with denial? Anyways... my 2cents (scents?) worth.
I broke up with a really smart sexy girl because of BV = Bacterial Vaginitis.
I just could not figure out how she could not smell it herself.. i mean talk about Voodoo Butter Panties.... whoooaaaaghh! *retches*
I did tell her, nicely, but she had some issue with denial? Anyways... my 2cents (scents?) worth.
Mystril
Greenlighter
Well, buffs story reminds me of a long stashed, happily forgotten 'Long Night of the Musty n' Nasty' that I thought was buried under irretrievable depths of denial - alas, this thread has resurrected a nightmare more suited to the an(n)als of Freddy Kreuger, let alone sane and amiable discourse, but anyways ....
Back when I was a wee bonny Club-jumper in the 80's, there was always a particular girl who played hard to get ... she was gorgeous, dressed well etc, but always seemed to like being unattainable - in stark contrast to her prick-teasing 'look-at-me-çuz-I'm-the-Club-Goddess' ways, I might add.
Anyway, persistence paid off, because I wasn't the worst looking bloke I suppose, and after 3 years of chatting, I finally got a date away from the usual Club, so as not to tarnish her image of unattainability I suppose, although the fact that the bartenders in the place we went knew her by her first name should've made the penny drop ... however when you're 19 & with a girl who is the talk of the Club, the last thing you're thinking with is what's between your ears.
Anyway, night wore on, the Rum & Cokes became Vodka & OJ, which escalated from hand holding to pashing, evolving into those torrid whispers of 'Let's get the fark outta here and back to my place' conversations. Smugness must've blindsided me, because all I could think of was the bragging rights I'd have to the boys the following week - and I indulged in those thoughts at the expense of what my olfactory senses were telling me on the drive home.
During the trip home, she attempted to get reassurances of not telling anyone she'd put out, for fear of her reputation at the main Club being affected, and she attempted to induce my co-operation by peeling her jeans off, revealing a very attractive set of underwear ....... and what can only be described as the odiferous remnants of the kind of smell that a skunk leaves on the underside of your SUV after you've run over it. 8(
I swear to god - I thought she burst a colostomy bag or something horrendously similar, and I started to panic, as I was driving my old mans Fairlane, and it had leather trim!! Anyway, after some clenched teeth statement about wanting some sea breeze (we were driving along the Esplanade at the time), the window shot down and my nostrils heaved a sigh of relief.
She asked me to pull over in a car park that was well enough away from houses to not be a worry, but my worry wasn't that of a casual passer-by at that moment .... I stopped the car (more fool me) and she literally, in one, obviously smoothly practised motion, slipped into the back seat, spread her legs and what can only be described as, visually & by smell, the most bile-inducing spadge in all of the Australian mainland continent.
Let me tell you, the coldest of spoons had NOTHING on what greeted me - how in god's name she was oblivious to it, I'll never know - perhaps the near 2 dozen Vodka & OJ had something to do with that, but I was panic-stricken by that time, not the least reason of which was that not only did I not want her germ-laced juice layering the Fairlane's leather trim, but I didn't want to clean out the almost certain and massive technicolour yawn I was bound to deposit if I was expected to actually give a tongue massage to that stagnant swamp.
Anyway, she was spread out on the back seat, getting famous with her fingers (thank god, my tongue was spared), and all the while, this crippling, vile, abhorrent vapor was spreading out from the car. There was no way I could wind up the windows - death would almost certainly follow that course of action, and I'd be a traitor to the cause if I abandoned my old man's car to the evil writhings of this fetid female, so I did the only honourable thing - despite her relaxed frame of mind and her state of rancid arousal, I started driving ... driving like never before, back to the safety of the original Club, and salvation.
In the meanwhile, old Mary Jane Rottencrotch was doing her best impression of a Youth Choir in the back seat, hitting several high notes on the drive back, and in the process releasing even more unwanted (most wanted under normal circumstances) flavours on the back seat. Upon reaching the Club car park, there were several likely lads in the park, hanging around looking for trouble, and as much as it pained me, I realised I just couldn't leave her there, so I told her I had to get the car back for my old man to drive early AM and took her back to her place.
Just when you thought it was safe to assume you'd saved yourself from a fate worse than an oral acid mouthwash, she leaned over, while I was driving, and tried to get me to kiss her boobs with the promise of the 'best sex I've ever had for being so nice to take her home' - an offer I was immediately nauseated at the idea of.
This awesome night that I'd envisaged with a great looking girl, had descended from a promised night of passion into a hell-filled pit of despair, from which, it seemed there was no escape. Anyway, she reclined into the back seat again, after her cones provided me no stimulation whatsoever - all the while understand, the car was absolutely cram full of this gut-tearing, nasal cavity collapsing smell that, by that stage, had gone well past even what a decomposing body has any right to smell like!!
Rather than planning how best to groom her womb, rather, I was sweating bullets about how I was going to get this stench out of the car. Anyway, we arrived at her place about 40 minutes after that, by which time she'd mercifully stopped masturbating and hence, not leaving anymore cruel gruel in the car - leaving the worst part of her in the blasted car! - and by which time even though she was still horny, she gave me an out when she said she'd **LET** me go down on her if I had to get going soon.
LET me go down on her? Christ alive, a team of wild horses, plus a D9 stump ripper couldn't have persuaded me to do that. I just broke down at that point - more with resignation than anything else, and simply told her the truth from my perspective that evening - in a kind way of course - not the Gordon Ramsay way of "THE SNATCH IS RANCID" ... and I thanked her for the evening (yes, the only thing my tongue had on it that evening were my own teethmarks!), drove off and for the next 4 hours (this was, by that time, around 3.30am Saturday morning), scrubbed, wet vacced, aerated and Fabreezed my way to redemption - dry retching in a shoulder heaving, stomach lurching defeated and bilious way that only the most miserable or unfortunate amongst us can relate to.
It was the only time I can ever remember being so abominably repulsed at the lack of personal hygiene & resultant smell, I refused test my resolve by going further! Not even a triple dare - the ultimate test of manhood back in the day - would be enough to coax me to submit to that hellspawn hovel that so nearly overwhelmed me that evening.
I'd forgotten/repressed/buried/hidden that memory all those years ago, and now thanks to this bastard of a thread, the memories of that perverse pussy prison are yet again causing me to reach for the Stemetil - my god it was revolting.
It reminded me of that line from Shawshank Redemption actually, that goes like this ...
"Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want too. Five-Hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.
Andy Dufresne - who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."
Well, to me it felt like five hundred football fields & several rivers of shyte that I had to crawl through, to dodge that nasty beaver bullet, but I survived - much better than any poor fool who went after me on a date with her no doubt!![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
Back when I was a wee bonny Club-jumper in the 80's, there was always a particular girl who played hard to get ... she was gorgeous, dressed well etc, but always seemed to like being unattainable - in stark contrast to her prick-teasing 'look-at-me-çuz-I'm-the-Club-Goddess' ways, I might add.
Anyway, persistence paid off, because I wasn't the worst looking bloke I suppose, and after 3 years of chatting, I finally got a date away from the usual Club, so as not to tarnish her image of unattainability I suppose, although the fact that the bartenders in the place we went knew her by her first name should've made the penny drop ... however when you're 19 & with a girl who is the talk of the Club, the last thing you're thinking with is what's between your ears.
Anyway, night wore on, the Rum & Cokes became Vodka & OJ, which escalated from hand holding to pashing, evolving into those torrid whispers of 'Let's get the fark outta here and back to my place' conversations. Smugness must've blindsided me, because all I could think of was the bragging rights I'd have to the boys the following week - and I indulged in those thoughts at the expense of what my olfactory senses were telling me on the drive home.
During the trip home, she attempted to get reassurances of not telling anyone she'd put out, for fear of her reputation at the main Club being affected, and she attempted to induce my co-operation by peeling her jeans off, revealing a very attractive set of underwear ....... and what can only be described as the odiferous remnants of the kind of smell that a skunk leaves on the underside of your SUV after you've run over it. 8(
I swear to god - I thought she burst a colostomy bag or something horrendously similar, and I started to panic, as I was driving my old mans Fairlane, and it had leather trim!! Anyway, after some clenched teeth statement about wanting some sea breeze (we were driving along the Esplanade at the time), the window shot down and my nostrils heaved a sigh of relief.
She asked me to pull over in a car park that was well enough away from houses to not be a worry, but my worry wasn't that of a casual passer-by at that moment .... I stopped the car (more fool me) and she literally, in one, obviously smoothly practised motion, slipped into the back seat, spread her legs and what can only be described as, visually & by smell, the most bile-inducing spadge in all of the Australian mainland continent.
Let me tell you, the coldest of spoons had NOTHING on what greeted me - how in god's name she was oblivious to it, I'll never know - perhaps the near 2 dozen Vodka & OJ had something to do with that, but I was panic-stricken by that time, not the least reason of which was that not only did I not want her germ-laced juice layering the Fairlane's leather trim, but I didn't want to clean out the almost certain and massive technicolour yawn I was bound to deposit if I was expected to actually give a tongue massage to that stagnant swamp.
Anyway, she was spread out on the back seat, getting famous with her fingers (thank god, my tongue was spared), and all the while, this crippling, vile, abhorrent vapor was spreading out from the car. There was no way I could wind up the windows - death would almost certainly follow that course of action, and I'd be a traitor to the cause if I abandoned my old man's car to the evil writhings of this fetid female, so I did the only honourable thing - despite her relaxed frame of mind and her state of rancid arousal, I started driving ... driving like never before, back to the safety of the original Club, and salvation.
In the meanwhile, old Mary Jane Rottencrotch was doing her best impression of a Youth Choir in the back seat, hitting several high notes on the drive back, and in the process releasing even more unwanted (most wanted under normal circumstances) flavours on the back seat. Upon reaching the Club car park, there were several likely lads in the park, hanging around looking for trouble, and as much as it pained me, I realised I just couldn't leave her there, so I told her I had to get the car back for my old man to drive early AM and took her back to her place.
Just when you thought it was safe to assume you'd saved yourself from a fate worse than an oral acid mouthwash, she leaned over, while I was driving, and tried to get me to kiss her boobs with the promise of the 'best sex I've ever had for being so nice to take her home' - an offer I was immediately nauseated at the idea of.
This awesome night that I'd envisaged with a great looking girl, had descended from a promised night of passion into a hell-filled pit of despair, from which, it seemed there was no escape. Anyway, she reclined into the back seat again, after her cones provided me no stimulation whatsoever - all the while understand, the car was absolutely cram full of this gut-tearing, nasal cavity collapsing smell that, by that stage, had gone well past even what a decomposing body has any right to smell like!!
Rather than planning how best to groom her womb, rather, I was sweating bullets about how I was going to get this stench out of the car. Anyway, we arrived at her place about 40 minutes after that, by which time she'd mercifully stopped masturbating and hence, not leaving anymore cruel gruel in the car - leaving the worst part of her in the blasted car! - and by which time even though she was still horny, she gave me an out when she said she'd **LET** me go down on her if I had to get going soon.
LET me go down on her? Christ alive, a team of wild horses, plus a D9 stump ripper couldn't have persuaded me to do that. I just broke down at that point - more with resignation than anything else, and simply told her the truth from my perspective that evening - in a kind way of course - not the Gordon Ramsay way of "THE SNATCH IS RANCID" ... and I thanked her for the evening (yes, the only thing my tongue had on it that evening were my own teethmarks!), drove off and for the next 4 hours (this was, by that time, around 3.30am Saturday morning), scrubbed, wet vacced, aerated and Fabreezed my way to redemption - dry retching in a shoulder heaving, stomach lurching defeated and bilious way that only the most miserable or unfortunate amongst us can relate to.
It was the only time I can ever remember being so abominably repulsed at the lack of personal hygiene & resultant smell, I refused test my resolve by going further! Not even a triple dare - the ultimate test of manhood back in the day - would be enough to coax me to submit to that hellspawn hovel that so nearly overwhelmed me that evening.
I'd forgotten/repressed/buried/hidden that memory all those years ago, and now thanks to this bastard of a thread, the memories of that perverse pussy prison are yet again causing me to reach for the Stemetil - my god it was revolting.
It reminded me of that line from Shawshank Redemption actually, that goes like this ...
"Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want too. Five-Hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.
Andy Dufresne - who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side."
Well, to me it felt like five hundred football fields & several rivers of shyte that I had to crawl through, to dodge that nasty beaver bullet, but I survived - much better than any poor fool who went after me on a date with her no doubt!
mr.buffnstuff
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 19, 2010
- Messages
- 1,124
BUT... Yoy forgot the most important bit.... What did youtell your mates? ;-)
nasty beaver bullet
A rank but rather entertaining read. Definitely not a case of ignorance is bliss.
citizen cained
Bluelighter
I think we have a winner....
Mystril
Greenlighter
I told them it was akin to going on a fishing trip with 10 day old sun-kissed bait as the attraction, and being relieved to the point of euphoric when I didn't catch anything - literally
Nah, I did the right thing - told them to stock up on Stemetil, a WWI Mustard Gas breathing apparatus and be prepared for a full sensory soak into the abyss of hell.
One of my mates actually didn't believe me and I am sure he had every intention of giving it a go - but then again, he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. I left him with the age old truism - you ARE what you eat ..... %)
mr.buffnstuff
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 19, 2010
- Messages
- 1,124
i think for both of our sakes, this thread should be closed because it is bringing back all the bad things we buried deep down inside the furthest reaches of our memories.... honestly, i had completely forgot about the sketty stinky finger girl till i read this!
THIS THREAD IS EVIL!
THIS THREAD IS EVIL!
Unbreakable
Bluelighter
How long did your finger smell for? Back in the day in college we used to play smell my finger game to see who got some ass after the parties.... ah good times
Jblazingphoenix100
Ex-Bluelighter
^ I used to do that to my younger brother lol...
Raz
Bluelighter
Mystril. I think I love you. 
That shit needs to be in Words.
That shit needs to be in Words.
mr.buffnstuff
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 19, 2010
- Messages
- 1,124
Unbreakble - theywere still stinking big time even after the full carton of ribena, I took the bus home and soon as I got in dived in the bath using a loofa (sorry dad :/ ) and all the shower gel I coud find, scrubbed the stentch of death and satans ass away! But after recalling this dark chapter in my life the stench still haunts my nostrills. :-(
rocketqueen
Bluelighter
I flip both ways so I have developed some preferences over the years. They are as follows: I like cut cock. No LTR if your cock is not cut. NO to ANYTHING if you are not manscaped or landscaped or stink. I despise bushy pubic hair - gross. As far as going down on a woman, a shower needs to happen first, and I myself give the same consideration. Lucky I do not have any scent fetishes, ya?
The last thing - If you want a proper blow job I got ya right here, but there has to be reciprocity. If eating snatch makes you feel queasy work on getting over it.
The last thing - If you want a proper blow job I got ya right here, but there has to be reciprocity. If eating snatch makes you feel queasy work on getting over it.