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 thread  Author  Topic: Not for Men's eyes.  (Read 158 times)
flicka{GS}~fg
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xx Not for Men's eyes.
« Thread started on: Oct 27th, 2017, 08:33am »

flicka found this when she was mooching around on the net, and it certainly rang true.

"When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.


Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter,the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern ‘seat covers’ (invented by someone’s Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn’t – so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR! ), yank down your pants, and assume ‘The Stance.’

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You’d love to sit down, but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold ‘The Stance.’ To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, ‘Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!’ Your thighs shake more.


You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday – the one that’s still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It’s still smaller than your thumbnail


Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn’t work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. ‘Occupied!’ you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT .. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper – not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you’re certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, ‘You just don’t KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.’

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.


At this point, you give up. You’re soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can’t figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, ‘Here, you just might need this.’


As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men’s restroom. Annoyed, he asks, ‘What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?’

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public restrooms (resthuh You’ve GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It’s so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!"

« Last Edit: Oct 27th, 2017, 7:46pm by flicka{GS}~fg » User IP Logged

"I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness...as a woman I want to be dominated...I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding." Anais Nin.
natasha{Zoran}
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xx Re: Not for Men's eyes.
« Reply #1 on: Oct 27th, 2017, 11:05am »

add to that, winter season tends not to improve things...

you know, that nice warm new coat you thought looked so good on you? Ha!

what to do with it? there is no hook, to hang it on while assuming "The Stance", and god forbid it so much as brushes the toilet seat with all its menacing fauna and flora...

so you do the only thing a sensible wise woman can do in such a quandary...your gird yourself and throw it over your head.

So now you have a handbag around your neck, trying to strangle you, one hand on the door to prevent random loiterers surprising you in this enticing pose, another clutching your panties as if your life depended on it (and it does, trust me, you dont want them to fall down to your ankles and kiss THAT floor!), a thick coat of the finest material blinding and suffocating you, while you are trying to get on with it and come unscathed out of the situation. With dry panties.

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xx Re: Not for Men's eyes.
« Reply #2 on: Oct 27th, 2017, 12:57pm »

~busts out laughing~

...and that's when you say "screw it" instruct the guys to turn their heads and pop a squat between 2 cars in the parking lot...if your lucky, you won't pee on your shoes...


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flicka{GS}~fg
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xx Re: Not for Men's eyes.
« Reply #3 on: Oct 27th, 2017, 7:50pm »

~laughing at natasha's additional comments. Well done sister!

Now because we all know that none of the Masters would read this cause the heading said it was not for Men's eyes. ~chuckling~ we can all relate incidents such as maddie has suggested.

Pondering for a moment. Yes flicka does have a fixation about body functions.
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"I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness...as a woman I want to be dominated...I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding." Anais Nin.
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