Bowling for Clothes

And before I could answer, she'd gone.

So that's the story of the time I played strip bowling. We walked home after that and I pleaded tiredness and went straight to bed. Of course, I had no intention of sleeping, although I did eventually crash out, exhausted, after masturbating myself to a succession of the greatest, most incredible orgasms I have ever had. Over the next few days and weeks I replayed every moment of that night in my head, using my hand, my 'Rabbit' or the shower head in the bathroom to get myself off over and over again.

To be honest, it got to the point where it started to become embarrassing – I'd be sat watching TV with the girls and some memory of that night would return unbidden to my mind, and I'd almost always have to disappear off to my room for a while to "take care of myself", so arousing was it.

But in the end, things calmed down, although I could always return to my memories any time I wanted to.

I became something of a local legend once word got around. Did we play strip bowling again? Of course we did! Did I lose again? Again, of course, although much less spectacularly. And did I have to do any more extra forfeits? Well, lets just say my lap dancing skills are now much improved!

In fact, my sportsmanship and willingness to take off my clothes that night meant that I found in the months and years that followed, among that group of friends, that dares, bets and forfeits were much more likely to come my way.

Mark, in particular, cottoned on fairly quickly that I was actually quite enjoying that sort of behaviour, and became one of the people in my life most keen to goad me into playing such games. In fact, it was only a few weeks after that he invited me up to his room to play a private game of 'Heads or Tails'... well, I found it a lot harder to rig a coin toss in my favour but I'm always up for a challenge and as in this particular case the challenge ended for me in a night of astoundingly good sex with the rugby boy, I found no reason to complain!

As for Maggie, the girl who I met at the alley who became my accomplice in hiding my clothes and gave me her phone number after. Did I call her? Well, that's a story for another time...