K-Y. What's Your Best Story?

Stigura

Perhaps, today, any man or woman amongst us can just breeze into the local pharmacy and casually hold the cashiers eye. " Yes. I'm going to have sex That way. I like a little lube."

Things haven't always been that way though. In an age less brazen I had a goat with mastitis. I was new to goat keeping. Probably why I ballsed up and let the poor thing get that way. But, I figured out that my rough fingers, on her scaly old teets, may be eased with a bit of softener.

I considered how she'd lick herself. Baby oil? Didn't seem right. K-Y Jelly? Water based. Seemed like the stuff. But ...

" Yes, please. Tube of K-Y ..... I use it on my goat "

Few yards down the road? " Oh God, Why ...? "

Punkyblip

You still going out with her?

kneemos

My BEST KY Story?

Let me think...

Olishi4

Surely thats your worst ky story op?

Menas

I lived in Kentucky for a year. The nicest rednecks you could ever come across.

The_Valeyard

You mean lather someone up with it, and the hunt is on?

HalloweenJack

Can you even get KY in Ireland?

Stigura

Punkyblip wrote: »

You still going out with her?

Naah. She was alright. I just couldn't put up with the kids


After that, I had a blow up doll for a girlfriend




But, I let her down .....

murpho999

HalloweenJack wrote: »

Can you even get KY in Ireland?

I know someone who drives a 151-KY Ford.


Seriously, the jelly is available in all chemists and has been for years.

Stigura

murpho999 wrote: »

Seriously, the jelly is available in all chemists and has been for years.

Yep. I picked mine up while passing through Longford.

There's some nice roads out of Longford .....

Stigura

I went to the Doctors once. " What's up with you? " He asked. Without thought or fuss, I simply said; " My arse is killing me, Doc. " (I was suffering extreme discomfort at the time.)

" My - Arse - Is - Killing - Me ". He sneered, in a certain tone. I should have copped on and fled for my life, right there and then.

Strides down. Knees up. On the table bed thing.

Glove up. Lube up. Finger up! And, dear god, that bastard new Exactly how to inflict pain! My spine straightened so hard and fast, my head nearly came off! Bastard. Never forgotten that

Anyway; How did we get to this? Where's anyone else's K-Y stories? I'll bet, on a GP's forum somewhere, there's some prick relating about the time his patient told him, " My arse is killing me. " And what happened next :pac:

FineFilly

id rather a little of his spit anytime,had a friend who used play lube on her ex and he had a reaction

Peregrine

Stigura wrote: »

Anyway; How did we get to this? Where's anyone else's K-Y stories?

We'd rather if you kept sharing, Stigura

Niemoj

OP will ya ever feck off with your KY jelly and use a word we can understand like.

Feckin' takin' the piss so ya are....

Stigura

Peregrine wrote: »

We'd rather if you kept sharing, Stigura

Okay. Just remembered. I do have one last thing to relate. I have no KY in the house now. Haven't had for years. No more goats, see? But, this one dates back to that time, long ago, when I still had goats ~ and my trusty tube of lube.

I was in town one evening. Having a pint. I slipped out front, to have a crafty smoke and watch the world go by. For some reason, I'd taken my bod warmer off and left it on a little table in the vestibule of the pub. It was a warm evening and I didn't need that extra layer. Nor did I need any of the every day junk I habitually kept handy in it.

Had my smoke. Might have even wandered off to the cash point. Or crossed over to look in a shop window. What ever. Lovely evening.

Came back to the pub and stepped inside the empty vestibule. And, of course, there was my bod warmer. Where I'd left it, on the table

And there, neatly placed on top of it, was my half used, rolled up and muck encrusted, trusty tube of goats nipple lube. Someone had, for what ever reason, gone through the pockets and had found my KY. I kept it in my pocket to save remembering to pick it up each time I went to treat the goat.

There was nothing for it, of course. All I could do was put it back in its pocket. Put my bod warmer back on, open that door and walk back into that crowded bar.

No body looked at me. There were no sniggers. It was as if they never knew.

But, I'll tell ye what? It was a good few years before I could go back into that town there and Not feel I was doing the walk of shame

smash

Marlon Brando used butter instead...