1: The act of placing or repeatedly dunking an infusion of drinkable leaves into a pot or cup of hot water, to create a delicious and tannin-loaded beverage.
2: The act of placing or repeatedly dunking ones testicles and scrotum into the open gaping mouth of a willing partner.
It had been a long day and Daphne was tired. Her dozy yawning gave Mike an idea. As she lay in sexy repose on the garden lilo, Mike straddled and repeatedly teabagged into her open willing cakehole. Her lips, full and moistened with lip balm, gave a lovely seal as the bagger and baggee met in a glorious carnal union. Mbpuh mbpuh his slimy nutsack went as he bagged in and out. They were tea bagging.
A rare but enjoyable activity that requires three; normally one female and two males. The lady enjoys the company of the men sexually, by fellating one whilst fornicating with the other; the familiar twos-up porno film routine. At the point of climax for the gentlemen, they give each other a double high five over the unaware lady's back, like Tower Bridge when a masted ship enters port - the seamen are reaching the dock. Mutual climaxing and a foghorn sound is optional.
Jacques and Bob had met her in the club, and had gone back to the Travelodge together. With only one Durex, Jordan suggested a threesome - one in the south, one in the mouth. The boys enthusiastically agreed and pumped away until, paaaaaaaaarrrpp, they found themselves Tower Bridging. Only the sound of hands clapping and skin slapping filled the slightly shabby room and they both felt a little bit emptier. Apart from Jordan who was a little bit fuller.
Someone who is both ignorant, and an arsehole. An unpleasant uneducated fellow. A dimwit who no-one likes. A friendless, feckless idiot.
By ending the Dock and Sprocket's pub quiz team's 100-run winning streak at the regional finals, unpopular newcomer Barrington had proven himself to be a real ignoranus.
A therapeutic session of self-enjoyment/masturbation, designed to relieve the stresses of a hard day at work. Normally enjoyed last thing at night to aid sleep. The cry "Now then now then, what 'ave we got 'ere then" on the vinegar strokes is for expert self-lovers only.
Crispin had lost twenty mill backing the wrong stocks on the market and was facing the internal auditors over an allegation of laundering money. Lying alone in bed that night he didn't know what to do. "I bet jizz'll fix it" he thought before whacking one out and drifting into a deep relaxing slumber.
Like Dirties Sanchez
, but with the addition of harshly-plucked labially-extracted pubes, hand-rolled twixt thumb and forefinger, and placed on the faecal mucus-be-smeared filtrum, in the style of a methodical Belgian detective. Particularly suitable for hirsute ladies; those granted an ample bush. When applied deftly, can leave the Poiree with a puzzled and contemplative expression. This is particularly desirable.
As she leant provocatively on the bed, Roderick forcefully entered Clarissa whilst thumbing her shitter. Then, on the vinegar strokes he de-thumbed; rubbed, plucked, rolled and stuck - et voila! A Dirty Poirot. All he had to do then was leave the scene of the crime without any clues...
Similar to the endangered ginger Sumatran primate, the Orang-eapron is a near-humanoid species whose herds congregate in large out of town DIY warehouses. Possessing only rudimentary language skills, the Orang-eapron are slowly evolving and in some parts of the world are learning to use tools.
After forty-five years loyal service at the bank, Bert left on a bleak Friday afternoon with a tear in his eye and a carriage clock in his briefcase. Within two weeks, bored off his tits, he'd been recruited as an Orang-eapron and spent his days misdirecting customers and giving bad advice on home improvements. All at unbeatable prices.
A particularly rare word used when something is displeasurable, and "Yuk" is inappropriate.
When offered a hearty meal of Crispy Duck, she said "Yik".