8 thoughts on “Ice Skaters”

  1. Ah the terpsichoreans of the ice! Memories of a golden age. In me youth – no more than 14 or 15 – me hormones racing, wanking all day, face full of pimples and sporting a permanent stiffy, I squired a young filly to the ice rink at the Balham Locarno. We joined hands circling the ice with all the other skaters. Mass skating quite the thing between the wars. Soon the frisky filly pulled me into the centre for a spot of ice dance. Must say was somewhat awkward on the ice what with having to skate with one hand over me crotch to disguise one’s rather obvious prowess.

    Skates went from under me and I took a right Burton on the ice finishing by piroueting on me stiffy to great applause. Never saw much of the filly after that but can confirm that ice is cold and hard and should only be taken with bourbon..

    • I have always been partial to the horsey type for that exact reason.

      That and the leather boot wearing and the rich parents.

      As a bonus you get plenty of space to work with if you use a horsebox as your rape van and it doesn’t look out of place. Always hide a tree in a forest, so to speak.

      • You’re such an animal!
        Speaking of the Horsey Set, I myself, cut a mighty fine figure in my equestrian apparel; jodhpurs, boots, Dressage show jacket and shirt, helmet and my well-used but NEVER-ON-THE-HORSE riding crop.

        The act of riding a horse itself tends to develop the particular skeletal musculature one discovers soon enough to be of great importance when one engages the organs of matrimonial necessity off the horse.

      • Born in the saddle. Conceived there – well in the tack room. Nothing like a spot of equestrian bondage. Used to wedge the memsahib into a well oiled harness and bridle while the old girl could still fit. Now have to have me arse paddled by me gillie’s daughter in thigh boots and leather basque. Little minx expert with a riding crop. Do me bit to preserve simple country ways.

      • I hope you pay her well sir stoke. I can imagine she’d go down well at a Tory public school-boys convention

      • “….gillie…….”?
        New word for me. Well at least in this context. I knew what a Ghillie suit was, but the Scot’s Gillie? Thank you. Me dad ain’t a Gillie, he was a corrupt Government Minister back in the old country, but I reckon I could flay with the best of ’em.

        Tho’ I’ve belted you and flayed you, By the livin’ Gawd that made you, You’re a better man than I am,
        Gunga Din

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