The Hosebag

A Hosebag is a male slut. A male version of a female slut.

He fucks everything he can. He's a good looking guy, usually tall, always confident around women and boy, does he get a lot of fucks.

I envy hosebags, I would totally be a hosebag, if I could. But I'm 170cm and borderline obese (according to my body mass index, but what do they know)

A hosebag does not share or refer fucks. He never passes one off to a mate and ALWAYS sankes his mates. Snaking is like “cutting lunch” or “cutting grass”, the hosebag will snake you for a woman who is plain looking, just to prove he can.

I reckon hosebags have a fear of being found out to be dud fucks or have small dicks, cause they never let a mate fuck an ex.

Hosebags need constant reassurance that they're attractive to women, which means they're fundamentally insecure.

Married hosebags will snake a single mate if they get the chance, that's how insecure they are.

We all know a hosebag.

I knew one called “Tim”

Tim was a tall, leonine blonde (who put lemon juice in his hair in summer), played on the school football team and fucked lots of girls.

I was aghast to hear him laughing about fucking a girl up the arse so hard that her head kept banging loudly against the bed-head! This was so long ago I didn't even know that men had anal sex with women and Tim was already butt-fucking the shit out of some slut!

This was so long ago I can't remember her name, but she's probably someone's mother now, in her early fourties...Remember, they're all sluts except for our mothers...

Despite having a good head more height than me, when I tried to close the deal with some girl and Tim was there, I'd get snaked... why couldn't he get someone else? What did he have to prove?

Obviously Tim was insecure. He must have had massive issues.

One night at a party (when Tim had a steady girlfriend), I was on a hot streak.

I'd made out with one girl earlier, but couldn't close the deal and she had left to go somewhere else (probably where she could fuck a better looking bloke). Then I hooked up again with another girl. We'd found a quiet place and she let me finger her to orgasm and repaid me by blowing me.

(In those days (the Eighties) girls would rather blow you than fuck you, I blame the AIDS campaign, but they still swallowed...)

So I've reduced the white count and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself. I return to the party and get to experience ostracism for the first time. All the friends of mine at the party thought I was a slut. They called me shallow and superficial and some more names I can't remember. They resented my prowess! And I thought I was a hero!

If I'd joined the Navy and flew jets, my squadron-mates would have given me a cool nickname for my success that night.

The biggest irony is that the hosebag was in the forefront of the haters! Tim led the chorus of social derision...

Maybe it was the fact that he had a girlfriend now. Maybe he felt he had to go with the crowd.

It was still one of the best nights of my life...