Now I'm quite rough when I fuck due to my ability to contain myself from orgasm using a variety of methods so this allows my to pummel away at vaginas with quite impressive speed without fear or concern of ejaculation. I gave her no mercy, about five minutes into our fuckfest that even The Flash would be impressed by, I started to smell something. Something...shitty... At first I thought it might have been one of my dogs that could have snuck into my room and laid a log under the bed but it didn't make sense that I would only now start to smell it. Continuing in a new post.

I didn't dare to check to check where it was coming from because the grim reality was starting to dawn on me. "Did I literally fuck the shit out of my girlfriend just now?" I thought to myself. I ignored the smell and kept going. Her pussy felt way too good and I was way too horny and hadn't had sex in over a week. I was not letting this opportunity go. After some more time of me pounding away on top of her I lifted her up, laid down on my back and had her get on top into cowgirl position. We continued to fuck and I continued to pound away at lightning fast speeds. I let her take over a few times when I felt the need to let her recover but I was back in control shortly after. Once I felt I had enough of the teasing and was ready to cum I started to get up and push her onto her back so I could deliver the money shot. That's when it happened...
I felt something on the back of my right thigh. Something moist, slightly warm and squishy. I quickly started to lose my boner as I desperately tried to keep pounding away to keep it up but the thought of the grim truth was raping at my mind. She had shat the bed. I slowed to a stop and made out with her for a while and came up with a plan to let her keep her dignity. I told her that I had a feeling that my family would be home soon (they had gone shopping for food). I pulled out and told her I needed to go take a piss.

I went to the bathroom with a fresh pair of underwear in hand and got myself a piece of toilet paper. I wiped the relative area of my thigh where I felt the sludgy substance touch me. I looked at the little piece of paper and it was indeed shit. I wiped the entirity of my back leg until I was satisfied it was clean and went back to the room. She had gotten dressed by the time and told me that she needed to go to the bathroom too now and walked past rather quickly. I gave her a kiss on the forehead to keep her calm but she kept moving during it. I went to finish getting dressed and check the bed. It had nothing on it other than two brown stains. I already knew what had been there. I took the bedsheets and put them in the laundry basket while she was in the bathroom and pretended to yell at my dog for jumping on the bed and "taking a piss" on it (one of my dogs is still just a pup so this behavior is normal for him). Nothing further was said about it and we went back to the other room and ended up watching Trainspotting in our blissful ignorance.

I have yet to copulate with the opposite gender.

SAGE has been used.

Dear me sir, what a harrowing experiance.

As for myself, I am a confirmed homosexual, and have gained several tales of gentlemanly conduct during carnal relations. For instance, after performing the act of fellatio on my then-bedroom companion, I was careful as to how I expressed my dissatisfaction at his rather unfortunate tendancy to wrench at my coiffure whilst I was engaged in his pleasure. Despite my gentle conduct, he took the news rather heavily, and was adamant that it was I that was in error. Similarly, when we indulged in the act of sodomy, I found myself again displeasured by his less-than-tactful approach and entry. Upon his climax, he completely lost interest in me, and our sessions would oft leave me unfinished and frustrated.

I was not overly concerned when he decided to break off our arrangement. One would advise that others seeking a sexual partner to speak with the prospective partner's former lovers with regard to their talent in the lustful dances of the night before embarking upon physical relations.

>>34
At first, I thought the punch line was that she forgot to remove a ancient tampon lost in there.

THat is impressive. How did she teleport the excrement to the backside of your leg? It will forever remain a mystery.

I take pride in the fact that I almost always ensure my partner reaches orgasm when we fornicate. Apparently this isn't too common in a man's world, but I find anything else to be rather unfair to the lady.

>>79
You sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.
I too try my best to cater to my lady friends needs.
I simply feel obliged to do so. It gives me a far greater satisfaction than the intercourse itself.

>>86
Too true, good sir. Were the act of copulation strictly for reproduction rather than a symbiotic and mutually pleasurable experience, we would be no more than animals. It's almost a sport to me in which I try to bring the lady to climax as many times as possible during a particular session of fornication.

>>91
>>86
I find myself in agreement. My belief is that the partner should be ensured of climax early, and as such I prefer my sexual encounters to start with me delivering oral pleasure. In this manner, she may climax at least once, and likely multiple times once the actual intercourse has begun.

>>32

Well you certainly kept your head, old boy. Good form! I myself had a similar, if a little less extreme misadventure while fornicating my own mistress from behind, in the canine fashion. We were both dressed; I had hitched up her skirt and I had pulled down my pantaloons to my knees. I was wearing a plain white cotton t-shirt. I looked down, and noticed a fresh brown stain on the belly of my white t-shirt where it had been making contact with her rearmost orifice; she hadn't wiped herself properly. I lost my erection almost instantly, hastily took off my t-shirt, threw it behind me, and apologetically told her I couldn't enjoy fornicating with her until I had taken a shower, and I was feeling self-conscious as a result. After my shower, I casually suggested that she might as well have one, too. She obliviously obliged and in no time at all I was back upstairs giving her a good rogering again. I never told a soul until this day.