I'm at my college house watching some porn like a usual student. The volume on my speakers was not that loud so no one could hear outside my room and corridor (I'm alone). But I was wrong. My room is near the backyard, and there's a lady, my neighbour, who was outside and heard my porn.

Anyways, while I was fapping I heard sirens outside my house. I quickly finished and laid low near my computer, thinking that it was another house. But within a few seconds I heard the police near my door. The police first screamed, "THIS IS THE POLICE" or something similar that I can’t seem to fully recall. I didn't know whether to run to the door because they probably had tasers, which would be unpleasant, so I screamed that I was opening the door. I opened the door slowly as they came in. One of the officer's told me that they had heard reports of a girl screaming. I told them that I did not hear such a scream. I was keeping cool.

They checked my room which then I realized oh frick. I told them, absurdly, that I was watching porn on the computer. (Then it hit me that this porn is illegally downloaded. But I know these officers wouldn't care about that.) They were skeptical at first but then I asked them if they wanted to see it to which they agreed. They both then had a funny smirk on their face as I scrolled to the screaming part. The officers called the neighbour and asked her if she heard it again. They increased the volume, and she said on the phone, “Yeah exactly the same voice”, to which the officers told her that it was a movie and will tell the neighbour to turn it down. The officers chuckled again and told me if I want to watch it, keep the volume as low as possible or use headphones. They left. Words cannot describe what a bizarre state I was in, so I went outside to walk to my friend's house who lives two streets down.

While walking down the street, I see the typical slags strolling crazy after or before a party - I couldn't really tell. One girl, who was walking alone on my side, asked me if I wanted to get my rocks off. Yeah. That's right. Just like that - out of the blue. But that's country girls for you. She had a nice pair of breasts and an above average face. I remember her perfectly: about 5’5”, brown hair, brown eyes, tanned body and a tiny birth mark on her neck. Oh, and the most discernible farm girl accent I've EVER heard. I first talked to her to see if it was some king of trap, which occurs 99% of the time, but this wasn't. She even took me near the trees. I, knowing about STDs and all, didn't really care at the moment as I was horny after I got a terrible fap session due to the police interrupting. I was really into it and told myself this is a really, really strange day.

This is where it gets ugly. Remember how I fapped awhile ago? Well, let me explain some things about that incident. I used toilet paper. When the police came, I just finished my fap and didn't have time to clean up everything. Do you know what happens when you have cheap toilet paper on your sticky penis for awhile?

She pulled down my pants and there it showed - a penis with a lot of white spots. In my head I was like NO NO WHYYYY GOD? WHYYY?. I didn't have any water around to wash it off so as I was trying to explain to her she interrupted and said I have herpes, freaked out and ran away. The worst thing about this is that, one: I couldn't explain myself, and two: she knows who I am. I decided to run back to my house, clean it off, and then go to my friend's house. There I told them my story which they refuse to believe.

Bad huh? Now here's where it goes from Beckett to Proust if ya know what I'm saying. My friends suggest that we all go out clubbing around the town. Now, I'm a decent looking guy, and my Hugh Grant accent in a rural town like Norwich usually goes down like buttered bread on these rural lasses. I'm in need of a real confidence boost, so I agree to go along, hoping to show off by getting a few girls' phone numbers. However, what happened next, I could not have predicted.

We stop off first at a club/bar called "Ravenous". Inside, I work my magic, pursuing girls and winning them over enough to get their numbers - and maybe a good night snog. I'm feeling really good, and we all decide to move on to a new establishment. The next place we hit is "The Elbow Room", a mid-sized club famed for its bizarre bauhaus architecture. It's here that I'm at prime, swooping in and swooping out of girls like some avian Lothario. This was definitely a good night for me - I must have picked up at least 8 phone numbers and made out with over a dozen chicks. And my friends, who had previously scoffed at my sexual solipsism and mock herpical adventure, were regaining faith in the almighty Casanova of Norwich. I hastened upon a pack of three hot looking girls dancing in the centre of the room. "Pardon me miss, I seem to have lost my phone number, could I borrow yours?" I flash a sexy grin. "Well yar a bit oof a playa arnt ye?" she replied.

I froze. Suddenly the clunk of my heart replaced the beats of the music in the air. I became dizzy, the light from the ceiling began to faze in and out. "Well let's get a goot look at ya." As she came into the light, my worst fears were realised. It was the girl from earlier. "Ummm...hi," I croaked, not sure how to play it. "Ooh my good, it's YOU! Yewer the guy with Herpes you sick pervert!" Time froze, and with it did all my discernible senses. The other girls with her began to look at me with a mortified stare. Suddenly, the music stopped. Why it did I do not fully understand. All I remember is this girl screaming, "HE GUT HERPES! DUNNA TOUCH HIM, GARLS!" An immediate circle formed around me. There were girls staring at me shocked - some I remembered from earlier who had given me some mouth lovin'. Well there was nothing beautiful about this. One girl, a blonde, began to spit furiously at the ground. "This freak kissed me!" she screamed, "He's given me herpes!" All around the room, other girls began to hock and spit. Some who I'd only touch began to spontaneously break into tears. Suddenly the room seemed to be devoid of any men, only women who felt that had been callously infected by me like that one movie Kids (no not the porno with Sundoobiest). The horrified screams began to intensify - like bats they were. And one girl fell to the floor clutching her heart and screaming about having her life ruined. Suddenly, I felt a man grip my arm from behind. "Son, you're coming with us," the burly gentleman said.

I was being led away by this burly guy who I didn't know. Girls were crying all around me, some still spitting passionately on the floor. And my friends seemed to have ditched me.

I was led into a brightly lit back room and sat down on a stool. A stool. I was still in a state of shock at what had happened.

"The police have been called," he said. "My name's Pete. You?" I mumbled out my name. "Y'know, what you're doing, I find it sick. I find it fucking sick, and I hope you go away for a long time." "Look," I begin to say, "this has all been a big misunderstanding. I don't have herpes. I just had toilet paper on my penis from fapping and when that girl was giving me a funjob in the grove behind McDonald's earlier. She mistook the specks of toilet paper for herpes. I swear I don't have it."

"I'm not an idiot," Pete said, "it's best if you just say nothing until the police get here." Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Pete went to open it and in wandered two police officers. We exchanged curious looks. They were the two policemen from earlier. "Can we be alone with him?" he said to Pete. Pete shrugged and walked out. The policeman then turned to his fellow officer and told him to "go comfort the victims". He walked out and then the officer came and sat down beside me. I was still sitting on a painfully uncomfortable milking stool.

"Pornography wasn't enough was it?" he said sternly, "you just had to get a piece of the real thing." I begged him to let me explain but was immediately cut off. "I know your type: a casebook STD loader." I choked a little. "You know that you're herpes positive but can't confide yourself to sexual solipsism. Instead you have to go out and get off with other women regardless of the consequences. You make me sick. I hope you're put away for a long time. There are ambulances out there to cater for the poor girls you've infected..."

"LET ME TALK!!" I screamed. I couldn't believe the third world policeman that sat before me. I have rights. This isn't China. It's Norwich. I began to explain to him everything that happened, he listened closely and seemed to be taking it in. After I had spent 10 minutes explaining everything in minute detail up to this point. He leaned back. I leaned back too, but nearly fell off my milking stool.

The policeman mulled this over for a while. "So," he said, "would you be willing to undergo a herpes test?" "Yes! Of course!" I screamed. "OK, come with me to the hospital then."

I was led out of the room through the back door of the club. I passed some of the girls I had kissed being comforted by paramedics. I was told to wait there while the officer went to get his buddy or something. The bitch had left me right in the middle of the street, in full view of the suffering girls. Suddenly I heard something run up beside me. I was kneed to the floor and I think I was spat on. I looked up to see a dark girl screaming and crying at me. "fuck YOU ALEX! fuck you!" Oh shit. This was a girl in my Politics class. This could not get worse. Could it? The girl was led a way by a female paramedic, who I think also spat on me. Either way, I lay on the ground waiting for the officers to return in order to be more conspicuous lest some more girls come give me a wallop.

The two policeman arrived some time later. They asked me why I was lying on the pavement. I said I was tired. I sat in the back of a police car for the first time and we were whisked away to a police station. They immediately conducted a herpes test by swabbing the inside of my penis with a cotton bud and sending it away. "The DFA will take about an hour," he said. "For the meantime, you'll be kept in this cell." He lead me to a room with a white door and a tiny glass window. Inside was a bed, chair, table and a copy of Gideon's Bible. I had never read the Bible before so I decided to read it from the beginning. It was pretty good. I got to the part about Lot and his daughters which unfortunately gave me an erection (remember I was still horny from that perturbed fap). It was then that the policeman came in and usherred me out. I was still at about ten o'clock but I tried to hobble out sideways like a crab, bending over and clutching my stomach, talking about a stomach ache to conceal my deception. I was rushed into a room and saw in front of me that girl again, the penisblower turned whistleblower.

"Well you're clean of herpes," said the policeman. I know. Yet still the girl seemed morose. "But you're not out of trouble yet..."

I sat down, and what happened next was by far the most humiliating and horrifying experience of the night.


So there I was, in one of those police rooms with the all-too-obvious two-way mirror. It was me, the officer, and the bitch who started this whole thing. She looked like she had been crying. Her whore maskara had dripped and dried to her cheek. The only other seat in the room was another fucking milking stool. Since when did the milking stool make a comeback? Well I guess this is Norwich.

Anyway, it was only as I sat down on it that I felt the contrition in my pants. This can't be happening, I thought. I needed cover. I slowly began to tuck my knees into my stomach, bringing them up off the floor and basically balancing on my bottom ontop of a thin milking stool. I can't imagine how stupid I must have looked there, on a milking stool, with my knees under my chin.

"I have a stomach ache."

The police officer leaned against the wall and let out a sigh. The girl was avoiding my gaze - good, I thought, that way she wont see me in an aroused state and get the wrong idea.

"Can you describe what happened between the time that I left you at your house and your arrival at "The Elbow Room"?" the police officer said. This wasn't good. She had told them something about our encounter earlier, and it wasn't exactly favourable to me. Nevertheless, I explained how this girl had propositioned me in the middle of the road, and how we'd gone to the grove by McDonalds, and how she had unzipped my pants and seen my tissue-speckled penis. When I was done, the policeman gave me a wry look. "It was consensual?" he asked. Of course, I said. This girl is a slag. The police officer seemed to be smiling now, "So you're saying that this girl just walked up to you in the street and demanded that you let her suck your ****?" I could see the girl getting more and more uncomfortable. Yes, I said. "Listen, mate, life just doesn't work like that. Young, innocent girls like my daughter, don't just walk up to strangers and demand to give them head."

I froze, and my senses shut down.

"Daddy, please stop," the girl choked out. But the policeman told her to go outside and wait with her mother. The policeman came towards me and pulled the chair 180 degress, sitting on it and leaning himself over the backrest. My boner was gone so I threw down my legs, nearly falling off my milking stool in the process.

"That porn you were watching earlier that evening...what was it called?" Ummm...goodstuff.wmv I said. "No the name of the film you eejut (that's how people in Norwich say idiot)," he shot back. I was startled for a second. Was I going to get done for illegally downloading porn? I played it cool. "It was Sexy Sleepover 5," I said, "the first porno to feature the Tijuana helicopter sex position." He seemed impressed. He inquired about the screaming. I told him that its not often that a teenage girl gets subjected to a Tijuana helicopter; it gave her a slight shock." He asked me whether it was "enough". I said not really since I was forced to make an emergency landing.

"Is that why," he said, "you decided to go out and try to rape my teenage daughter?" WOAH. This was serious. Is that what she said? No I was a just a willing participant to her rabid nymphomania. This got the officer mad. He shot up and kicked the chair to his side; sweeping his hair back he pushed himself close to me. "You fucker, you tried to force my daughter. My daughter would never do anything like that!"

Then it hit me. This guy was trying to frame me. He couldn't accept that his daughter was a slag, and after she was forced to admit to various people how she "knew" about my "herpes", he created this myth that I had tried to rape her in order to protect her reputation.

"Did your daughter tell you this?" I asked, trying to find a weakness and exploit it. He told me that she did. I asked if I could speak with her.

"You can't; witness protection." Witness protection?! but I just saw her now. "That was to identify you as the assailant. She's back there now giving her statement to my partner. I had her leave when I felt you were getting too violent." I didn't know what to do. I was being framed by a corrupt policeman. Then it hit me. My friends! They would vouch for me. I had told them exactly what had happened when I met them before we went clubbing.

"I want my one phone call," I said. The policeman looked at me. "Who are you calling?" "That's none of our business." "It's the law that I know." "I'd like a second opinion then."

Eventually I got my phonecall. I phoned my friend's house but he wasn't there. Damn. I was about to call one of my other friends who was with us at the club, but then the policeman came and cut off the line. "I'm sorry," he said, "you've had your one phonecall."

As I sat there, thoughts began running through my head. I was being accused of attemped rape, I had no witnesses, and it was my word against a tearful girl - who just happened to be the daughter of the officer who was prosecuting me.

I reckoned that I needed a lawyer right about now. But even then, I had serious doubts about whether I would make it out of this alive and not on the sex offender registry.

I was led to the front desk and asked some questions - my full name, age, student union number. "Do you curl you hair?" the secretary asked? What? I replied. "Is that your natural hair texture?" No, I said, I have a perm done every so often, I just love having nice, bouncy curls! My humour was not well received.

Eventually I was whisked into a different room. It must have been built in the last 50 years because instead of a milking stool they had a real chair. I sat down. It felt so good. I was mercileslly interrogated by a new officer. He waltzed in and put his foot on my arm rest. I was forced to gaze into his crotch. It was uncomfortable.

"Hi, my name is Evan," he said. Hi Evan. "Shut up, rapist - I'm sorry, attempted rapist." Look, I said, this has all been a misunderstanding. I never attempted to rape that girl. She just came up to me and wanted to give me a blowjob. This is 2008, not 1958. These things do happen. Furthermore, I think that her father is trying to frame me. If you just let me have five minutes with the girl then I can guarantee you she will clear this up.

"You think you can get this girl to admit she's a whore in five minutes?" he said. If it were under different circumstances, I could get her to show you she's a whore in five minutes, I replied, giving a slow wink. He was not amused. "That's my friend's sixteen year old daughter you're talking about here," he said. Oh, yeah sorry...sixteen, really? I stuttered back. Stupid Alex. This. Is. Not. The. Time. For. Jokes. "She's gone home," he said. "Can I ask you some more questions?" You know who you look like? Steve Carell, I said. It's true, he did.

"What attracts you to young girls?" Ummm...how am I supposed to answer that? I need to tread carefully. "She's hardly young," I said, "sixteen would just be a girl." He nodded his head agreeably. "So what attracts you to girls like Melissa?" That was the first time I had heard her name. "Well, I'm not really attracted to her. It's just that I had had a very disappointing fap session, and was and still am horny."

This question didn't seem to satisfy Evan. "Tell me," he said, "What do you think of her breasts?" "Ummm...I don't think they're anything special." "Really perky, aren't they?" he continued "Round, big, but not too big, just enough to give them a good motorboatin'" I didn't know what to say. "They were OK." "What's your favourite kind of breasts?" he continued. "Do you like them big or small?" Umm...big I guess. This greatly excited him and he whipped out a flipbook to write down some notes.

"Tell me, Alex, do you have a mother?" No, I congealed in dirty fish tank 18 years ago. Oh wait, no joking. "Yes I do," I said, "she lives in London with my step dad." "Your parents are divorced then?" "No, my father just died when I was really young." "Interesting..." Evan continued to write down notes. "So," he said, "what's your mother like?" She's quite cool, I said, just your average mom. "What breast size is she?" What. I honestly don't know, I said. "Would you say they are big or small?" Evan said. I was beginning to feel really uncomfortable. "I don't really want to answer that," I said, after fidgeting for a while. "That's OK," said Evan with a smile, as he wrote some more things down. Why are you asking these questions? I inquired. He just smiled and didn't respond.

After a few more questions, varying in humility, were asked. Evan left the room saying "wait here". Ten minutes later came the previous police officer, who beckoned me out. He led me to Evan. "Alex, this is Dr Newman, he's our forensic psychologist." This guy is a psychologist. Wow; it's true what they say. All psychs are crazy themselves. Go to your college and check out the people doing psychology; I guarantee you that they're all depressed emo kids or Ass Burgers. Or worse: wannabe depressed emo kids or wannabe Ass Burgers.

"We've met," said Evan. "Oh good," said the officer, "did you get a chance to profile him?" "Sure did." WAIT, what? "I sure did," said Evan again with a grin, "...fixation with large breasts, latent Oedipus Complex...this guy's a Type 1." Oedius Complex? "I'm not in love with mother!" I protested, "and what's Type 1?" "Firstly, you are, you just don't know it duh," said Evan, "and secondly, it means you fit the profile of a serial rapist. Don't worry I went over this with your mother."

NO. NO THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING.

"You spoke with my mother?!" I screamed. "Yes, she's on her way now," replied Evan cooly. "Oh my God! What did you tell her?" "We gave her our working hypothesis; that you're a sexually frustrated loner who targets girls with large breasts in order to transgress the sexual desires you have towards you mother." He took a step back. "I'm so proud of figuring that out on my own."

I was lost for words.

"Oh shit, I forgot to ask her what her cup size was," said Evan. "That's OK - we'll find out in two hours!" said the policeman. They both started rolling with laughter, so much so that the cranky secretary got out of her desk and peered round the corner to see what was going on.

I sat back against the wall. The waiting area only had milking stools, and I didn't feel like sitting on one. I put my head in my hands. This can't get any worse, I said to myself, almost crying. This CAN'T get any worse.

Suddenly I saw the policeman father of the bitch girl storming towards me with a crazed look in his eye.

It was about to get much, much worse.

As the policeman father stormed towards me, my heart began to double take. Evan and the other policeman were still happily chatting, waiting for the inevitable arrival of my mother, of whose state of mind I could only imagine as being utterly deranged. The officer stopped just at my feet.

"Evan! Heathcliff! Has this little shit told you about his special relationship with my daughter?" he bellowed. The two officers stopped what they were doing and looked confusingly at him. No, they answered feebly. "Hey you, little shit," bellowed the officer once more. "Why don't you tell these eejuts about you and my Melissa!"

I was already in something of a paralytic daze, and this further layer on confusion was having no effect on me. I replied that I had no idea what he was talking about, and that I had only met Melissa earlier this night when she had attempted to perform impromptu fellatio on me, and then again in "The Elbow Room" where this entire ordeal had started. Once again, none of the three idiots was buying this. The burly father grabbed my arm and led me to the another room. Inside were a table and several milking stools. On one of the milking stools was Melissa, now wrapped in a blanket. I was shoved inside and sat on a milking stool. Mellisa seemed to have removed her makeup and consequentially looked much uglier.

"Heathcliff! Make sure you get this" was the demand from the father policeman. He then bent over by his daughter and whispered loudly into her ear. "Honeybee...tell these officers and Alex what you told me..." Melissa choked a little, looked at me with her puppy dog eyes and said,

"Alex didn't try to rape me..."

My heart lifted.

"...we've actually been seeing each other for quite some time now."

And my heart promptly sunk back down into the annals of my chest.

"We've been boyfriend and girlfriend for a few months and...he didn't try to rape me. We just got a little frisky in the grove by McDonalds...and it it was my first time and I got a little nervous and..."

She burst into tears.

"I'm so-sorry Alex...I di-didn't mean to...I was just so confused...I know you were trying to be gentle..." She turned to her father and the two other idiots. "It was entirely consensual. I thought I was ready but I wasn't. Alex never forced me. We both love each other. But...but Alex I think we need to break up...I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment...I hope we can stay friends."

All eyes turned on me. In my mind I was screaming, THANK YOU MELISSA!!! I HATED YOU BUT NOW I LOVE YOU!!! but in my spoken dialogue, I kept cool. Mock choking back tears I replied, "That's OK Melissa...it's for the best...I'm sure we can remain friends."

Melissa was keeping her gaze to the floor. I looked up at her father who had a relieved yet oddly disappointed look on his face. I looked up at Evan and Heathcliff who looked doubly disappointed. I could just imagine what was going through Evan's mind. 'But...but...my theory...it was FLAWLESS.' What a ****.

I didn't speak to Melissa. She was escorted briskly out of the police station and presumably back home. It's a shame, because I really wanted to thank her for what she did. She had really defied my expectations of her, and I would be interested to have heard what exactly it was that made her change her mind. Her father remained behind though. He looked at me sternly. "If I ever see you again," he said, "I'll make sure you're nicked." And with that he galloped away. In the distance, on the opposite end of the hallway, I saw Evan and Heathcliff walking away. I could just make out Evan's words to the other officer: "Well, her breasts weren't that big..."

I went to the front desk as ordered by the father to give my statement and hand in some forms vindicating me of any wrongdoing. I waited about an hour for my mother, and told her what had happened. It was very late, so I let her stay at my college house, where it all began.

It was only when I got home that I realised, "fuck. I can't fap with my mother in the house!" But I did anyway, and that's a whole other story.

And that, XNXX, was my night. An evening of continuous humiliation, near prison sentences, and bizarre accusations. Make your own morals out of this but remember:

Always, ALWAYS, have some kleenex handy.

Godspeed,

Yeti Balls

 

The board room congratulates you

 

Ha ha oh my god...he´s cumming....:excited:

 

Sorry, but I lost interest after reading about a third of it!!!:wall:
It's way tooooooooo long!!!

 

i call shenanigans

 

That is, hands down, one of the worst days I could even imagine

 

Indeed.

-S-

 

Shenanigans it may be, but it's a good story.

 

its a tough tough world for someone trying to bust a nut.

 

If you say so. I lost interest about halfway through, skimmed up to the part of him being framed for rape by the police chief and stopped. I was honestly bored at that point.

-S-

 

i got up to the girl screaming he got herpes in the club. i mean really? who does that? and she asked him if he wanted to get his rocks off? who speaks like that? what is this a Quentin Tarantino movie?

get the fuck outta here

 

​

 

lol

 

haha dude, if he made this story into a movie that would be the perfect tagline.

Bravo man, that was pretty damn good.

 

Why thank you good sir. I actually don't remember writing half of this, I was blacking out most of the time.

I swear on my life that every word of this is true.

If all of you read the story you'd know where I live. People do talk like that here...

 

riiiight

 

I remember my first hit of acid too.

 

I lol'd