The Isolated Blurt Thread XX: The Ghost of Blurt Threads Past
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Aphro
Femme du monde
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- Jan 30, 2013
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Since today is bruise and contusion Monday, I thought I would share a story from the spring, just for a laugh. Sadly, I had NO SEX in order to get this look.
One afternoon in the spring, I decided to walk to the grocery store. My teenage son said he would come along, too.
Now, I swear I must have brain damage at times because I decided to walk in spite of the fact my feet were already covered in blisters from the previous weekend of walking in inappropriate footwear. It's about a half hour each way. We get to the store, I get some cheese and some stuff for salad, and we started heading home.
By this time my feet were starting to hurt. I didn't want to have to walk the long way home, so my son suggests that we take the cut through the farm field. It is very low and quite boggy,, so once we got there I could see it was impassable without getting wet.
But I didn't want to have to walk up and back to the side street and the long way round the houses. Not with my feet throbbing the way they were.
I look south and I see some kids cutting through further down. I assume another pass through is there. We walked down and sure enough, there is. We cross the field and the little path ends at a chain link fence. Kids have been climbing over the fence, and the wire has been pulled away from the top bar, leaving a large, sagging hole between the top rail and the now bent chain link.
We are actually on the terminus of our street, so I am like bonus!...nearly home.
Just have to get over the fence.
The teenager, of course, nimbly hops over the fence. I am much shorter and much older and much plumper than my teenage son. I set my foot in the sagging area of the wire and attempt to vault myself up. I can just about get my foot high enough, grab the top bar, and attempt to vault up. I manage to pull myself up a bit, but the fence starts to wobble and sway, and I freak out and jump back down. I say no way am I going over. I am going to fall or collapse the fence.Exasperated, my son says so now what?
I'm going through the hole, I say. He says you won't fit. I say petulantly "I'm not quite THAT fat...It's a big hole!".
So, I put my leg through the hole and being to clamber through. One thing I neglected to consider was that I have short legs as well, and the low part of the wire was actually higher than my crotch.
I get my right leg through, and bend and wiggle my head and upper body through, basically sitting on the wire, until I was able to touch the ground on the opposite side of the fence with my toes. I gloat at my kid: see? I am not too fat.
But when I try to pull my left leg through, the inside of the leg of my pants gets snagged on the wire. I try to unhook it but it won't budge. I tell my son to climb back over and try to unhook it. He can't because I have gone too far and the tension is too great. So I can either rip a big hole in my pants, or shimmy back again until the fabric is loose enough to unhook.
I begin trying to back my upper body through the hole I just wriggle through, only to discover that it was much easier going through forward than it is to back out. Now, my boobs are getting caught up on the wire going the other way. I'm now stuck, caught in a fence, balancing on my tippy toes with a bent up section of chain link fence wedged between my legs.
And I started to laugh. I laughed and laughed. My son was laughing but now concerned because his mother was stuck in a fence. I said maybe he would have to run home and get some wire cutters. He was aghast at the thought of leaving me.
We see a man getting into his car at one of the nearby houses. My son says "Maybe I should go and ask that man..."
"No!" I hiss. "No man! Don't you dare!"
No one could see me in my indelicate situation, least of all a neighbour.
Finally, after some shuffling and wiggling, I was able to pull myself back far enough to free my pants, but not before I scraped my belly up. Then I had my son hold the rough edges of the wire down while I scrambled back through again, landing at last with an unceremonious plop on the other side of the fence.
The fruit of my loins hops back over and says wow, that was so much easier than just climbing over the fence, mum. Good job!
Fucking kids, I tell you!
And this is the result of fifteen minutes just sitting on a roll of chain link. This is as kinky as it gets for me, apparently.
One afternoon in the spring, I decided to walk to the grocery store. My teenage son said he would come along, too.
Now, I swear I must have brain damage at times because I decided to walk in spite of the fact my feet were already covered in blisters from the previous weekend of walking in inappropriate footwear. It's about a half hour each way. We get to the store, I get some cheese and some stuff for salad, and we started heading home.
By this time my feet were starting to hurt. I didn't want to have to walk the long way home, so my son suggests that we take the cut through the farm field. It is very low and quite boggy,, so once we got there I could see it was impassable without getting wet.
But I didn't want to have to walk up and back to the side street and the long way round the houses. Not with my feet throbbing the way they were.
I look south and I see some kids cutting through further down. I assume another pass through is there. We walked down and sure enough, there is. We cross the field and the little path ends at a chain link fence. Kids have been climbing over the fence, and the wire has been pulled away from the top bar, leaving a large, sagging hole between the top rail and the now bent chain link.
We are actually on the terminus of our street, so I am like bonus!...nearly home.
Just have to get over the fence.
The teenager, of course, nimbly hops over the fence. I am much shorter and much older and much plumper than my teenage son. I set my foot in the sagging area of the wire and attempt to vault myself up. I can just about get my foot high enough, grab the top bar, and attempt to vault up. I manage to pull myself up a bit, but the fence starts to wobble and sway, and I freak out and jump back down. I say no way am I going over. I am going to fall or collapse the fence.Exasperated, my son says so now what?
I'm going through the hole, I say. He says you won't fit. I say petulantly "I'm not quite THAT fat...It's a big hole!".
So, I put my leg through the hole and being to clamber through. One thing I neglected to consider was that I have short legs as well, and the low part of the wire was actually higher than my crotch.
I get my right leg through, and bend and wiggle my head and upper body through, basically sitting on the wire, until I was able to touch the ground on the opposite side of the fence with my toes. I gloat at my kid: see? I am not too fat.
But when I try to pull my left leg through, the inside of the leg of my pants gets snagged on the wire. I try to unhook it but it won't budge. I tell my son to climb back over and try to unhook it. He can't because I have gone too far and the tension is too great. So I can either rip a big hole in my pants, or shimmy back again until the fabric is loose enough to unhook.
I begin trying to back my upper body through the hole I just wriggle through, only to discover that it was much easier going through forward than it is to back out. Now, my boobs are getting caught up on the wire going the other way. I'm now stuck, caught in a fence, balancing on my tippy toes with a bent up section of chain link fence wedged between my legs.
And I started to laugh. I laughed and laughed. My son was laughing but now concerned because his mother was stuck in a fence. I said maybe he would have to run home and get some wire cutters. He was aghast at the thought of leaving me.
We see a man getting into his car at one of the nearby houses. My son says "Maybe I should go and ask that man..."
"No!" I hiss. "No man! Don't you dare!"
No one could see me in my indelicate situation, least of all a neighbour.
Finally, after some shuffling and wiggling, I was able to pull myself back far enough to free my pants, but not before I scraped my belly up. Then I had my son hold the rough edges of the wire down while I scrambled back through again, landing at last with an unceremonious plop on the other side of the fence.
The fruit of my loins hops back over and says wow, that was so much easier than just climbing over the fence, mum. Good job!
Fucking kids, I tell you!
And this is the result of fifteen minutes just sitting on a roll of chain link. This is as kinky as it gets for me, apparently.
pointless
¿por qué no?
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2002
- Posts
- 58,994
there is something in my father's thalamus. what it is they don't know yet. i do not know what to think or feel at the moment. is it weird that my biggest concern is how exactly i am going to convince that driving is a bad idea? it feels weird. can't be helped however.
this feels cold, but this is the closest thing to venting that i am allowing myself at the moment. i need to think and i'm not finding that easy at the moment. i need to sleep as well. that will not happen.
i wish i had weed.
or sleeping pills.
any means of escape would be welcome.
no response required. there really isn't anything anyone here can say at the moment, anyway.
this feels cold, but this is the closest thing to venting that i am allowing myself at the moment. i need to think and i'm not finding that easy at the moment. i need to sleep as well. that will not happen.
i wish i had weed.
or sleeping pills.
any means of escape would be welcome.
no response required. there really isn't anything anyone here can say at the moment, anyway.
Aphro
Femme du monde
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2013
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- 8,493
Shit.
Is he having any function or reasoning impairment? Is that why you think he shouldn't be driving?
BabblingBrooke
It's whatever
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- May 7, 2015
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- 5,707
Today my youngest declared a song on the radio as "so old." I'd never heard this song, and did not find it to be music I want to hear. I think I'm getting old.
BabblingBrooke
It's whatever
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- May 7, 2015
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- 5,707
That moment when you answer a rhetorical question. 
Aquagal
Literotica Guru
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- Apr 27, 2007
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- 31,672
Ouch!
Sorry, I chuckled, just little bit.
At the stuck point of no return and the neighbor close enough to see.
N
nymph817
Guest
♪ Winner winner Chicken Dinner ! ♫
http://33.media.tumblr.com/6ef0c6b8a1b8bc4b1ceffc07f2c3fa43/tumblr_mgnp6o9hsI1s2yegdo1_400.gif
That means you, Henrietta !
lovetoread
hello daddy
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2001
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- 42,978
They've made the milkshake song into a jingle for kids cereal.
D
DesEsseintes
Guest
So sleepy... I better earn some mom points for getting up this early
Are they exchangeable for hugs on anything like a predictable basis? Yours are a little older, I know, but Small's reward system seems completely irrational. I get hugs when I think I am having to be rather mean, and am refused when I am trying to be nice, sometimes.
The child seems to lack even the most basic system of logic.
1HF
Mischievous Minx
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- Jul 20, 2005
- Posts
- 19,406
Children are strange. My eldest is the same. Her school notes are important to her but I was told last week there wasn't enough background detail and she patted my hand. But on a day I'm frustrated with her I get sweet notes and all sorts of snuggles.
Jennifer
His Fuckdoll
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- Mar 11, 2014
- Posts
- 7,238
Why, that man would be a parent's dream come true! I need some sage advice. I am
no doubt a horrible mother.
Fata Morgana
Deckel Edged
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- Feb 10, 2005
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- 32,606
He will appear as if by magic, rather like the shopkeeper from Mr Benn.
1HF
Mischievous Minx
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2005
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- 19,406
Obviously. Which is why I got up earlier than normal to draw a terrible picture for her lunch note. If you find such a wondrous man, could you send him my way? I would cherish the unwanted and sage advice as if I actually was listening.
Laurel
Kitty Mama
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- Aug 27, 1999
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