Dating site experiences and shock horror meetings!

Not a dating site experience or shock horror as such, but......

Yesterday I finished off a 3 day job in Wisbech Cambs around 6-45pm to travel to Deepest Suffolk to stay in village called Debenham. Now Suffolk is like the back of beyond at the best of times, but Debenham is a blink and you'll miss it kid of place. Had a look on the internet to find digs and was looking up Stowmarket as todays job was nearer there than Debenham but as a contractor, I can't afford to pay £100 a night for a Hotel or b&b so Debenham it was as It was within budget. On arriving in the village It looked like It bred the first clown mask wearing weirdo,. The satnav took me up Cherry tree lane to a dead end, pitch black looking for a b&b that had no house number. We arrived at a farm house thinking It was the b&b. I knocked on the door and this old farmer eventually answered. I think I gave him the fright of the poor old boys life, and I wasn't wearing a fuckin' clown mask!. He didn't want to help so fair do's, I apologised for bothering him in asking for directions.

Driving up and down I had a banjo playing in my head... De de leng deng deng deng deng deng deng(squeal like a pig boy) Deliverance kind of way. Still no nearer to finding the place. I then suggested to my workmate we should drive in the village as I needed an ATM. Luckily, the Co op was open. Got some cash and drove off, still the satnav had us no closer. I said "stop here mate, I'll go in the pub(the Woolpack) On entering I noticed a blond women in her early 40's quite tall, decent figure. She was the only customer in there sat talking at the bar to the barman. Asking for directions, she knew exactly where the b&b was. Now she wasn't a stunner but bmr has had nowt since for about 6 weeks when I was 'big ugly feet', so she looked promising. 9.10pm we eventually found the place but. Turns out to be a lovely 16th century cottage with such a quirky endearing character about the place. I was fucked by this stage and dived straight in the shower to freshen up. The Original source extreme mint tingle was the only thing to have tingled my bell end in weeks and the plane Jane bespectacled blond bird in the pub seemed rather appealing by now, So my original plans of a shower and early night had gone as I got dressed to stroll down the pub. Not only that, as I got dressed The old Jewish couple in the b&b of the film Borat went through my head shapeshifting into insects, so that made up my mind to go down the pub and try my luck.

On entering the Woolpack she was still there as she was an hour earlier. I ordered a pint and begin chatting to her. She seemed friendly enough and I worked out straight away she was single. So after a couple of drinks last orders rang and before I knew it, it was chucking out time. I told her I fancied another drink and she suggested going back to her place. On entering, she went to the fridge and offered my an ice cold Bud. She looked quite sexy but there was something odd I couldn't work out about her. Next minute her cat leapt up on the sofa and began purring. "you're lucky, she likes you". I thought you'll be lucky later as I stroked her pussy-cat she said was 18 years old.

After more small talk about this n' that and then she revealed she is now transgender, and her name was Alan. I spat my drink over her poor moggy, got up and promptly fucked off there and then, back to the shapeshifters cottage!

Weirdest village I've ever been to, makes Stoke seem normal.
 
Last edited:
bluemoon risin' said:
Not a dating site experience or shock horror as such, but......

Yesterday I finished off a 3 day job in Wisbech Cambs around 6-45pm to travel to Deepest Suffolk to stay in village called Debenham. Now Suffolk is like the back of beyond at the best of times, but Debenham is a blink and you'll miss it kid of place. Had a look on the internet to find digs and was looking up Stowmarket as todays job was nearer there than Debenham but as a contractor, I can't afford to pay £100 a night for a Hotel or b&b so Debenham it was as It was within budget. On arriving in the village It looked like It bred the first clown mask wearing weirdo,. The satnav took me up Cherry tree lane to a dead end, pitch black looking for a b&b that had no house number. We arrived at a farm house thinking It was the b&b. I knocked on the door and this old farmer eventually answered. I think I gave him the fright of the poor old boys life, and I wasn't wearing a fuckin' clown mask!. He didn't want to help so fair do's, I apologised for bothering him in asking for directions.

Driving up and down I had a banjo playing in my head... De de leng deng deng deng deng deng deng(squeal like a pig boy) Deliverance kind of way. Still no nearer to finding the place. I then suggested to my workmate we should drive in the village as I needed an ATM. Luckily, the Co op was open. Got some cash and drove off, still the satnav had us no closer. I said "stop here mate, I'll go in the pub(the Woolpack) On entering I noticed a blond women in her early 40's quite tall, decent figure. She was the only customer in there sat talking at the bar to the barman. Asking for directions, she knew exactly where the b&b was. Now she wasn't a stunner but bmr has had nowt since for about 6 weeks when I was 'big ugly feet', so she looked promising. 9.10pm we eventually found the place but. Turns out to be a lovely 16th century cottage with such a quirky endearing character about the place. I was fucked by this stage and dived straight in the shower to freshen up. The Original source extreme mint tingle was the only thing to have tingled my bell end in weeks and the plane Jane bespectacled blond bird in the pub seemed rather appealing by now, So my original plans of a shower and early night had gone as I got dressed to stroll down the pub. Not only that, as I got dressed The old Jewish couple in the b&b of the film Borat went through my head shapeshifting into insects, so that made up my mind to go down the pub and try my luck.

On entering the Woolpack she was still there as she was an hour earlier. I ordered a pint and begin chatting to her. She seemed friendly enough and I worked out straight away she was single. So after a couple of drinks last orders rang and before I knew it, it was chucking out time. I told her I fancied another drink and she suggested going back to her place. On entering, she went to the fridge and offered my an ice cold Bud. She looked quite sexy but there was something odd I couldn't work out about her. Next minute her cat leapt up on the sofa and began purring. "you're lucky, she likes you". I thought you'll be lucky later as I stroked her pussy-cat she said was 18 years old.

After more small talk about this n' that and then she revealed she is now transgender, and her name was Alan. I spat my drink over her poor moggy, got up and promptly fucked off there and then, back to the shapeshifters cottage!

Weirdest village I've ever been to, makes Stoke seem normal.
Click to expand...


A truly outstanding effort sir!
 
After BMRS fantastic effort I fell I should present the next edition of Jackanory

Are we sitting comfortably boys and girls? Right I shall begin...

Once upon a time on a far of Island called Rhodes a 19yr old Purplenose slightly wet behind the ears had arrived to work on resort for the first time and to begin my voyage of discovery that lay ahead that summer.

Having been there about a week i had realised that the majority of tourists on the Island were Northern European in short swarms of scandinavian crumpet. Everyone one a godess. Whilst this was visually a very good thing, I had come to the conclusion that this might not be a positive thing in terms of my prospects of getting a shag given I even usually failed to pull in the bamboo in Hazel Grove. The chances of pulling birds that made the blonde out of Abba slightly ropey seemed to me remote.

Soon one of the lads who I was working with suggested we go off down to the part of town were all the Scandinavian Crumpet went that evening assuring me that my doom laden prophecies of a summer of celibacy would be quickly proved to be bollocks. I recall the name of the club we went into, the JPS Club in Rhodes town, once inside it was like being drowned in pure beauty, wall to wall Scandinavian Amazon stunners from Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Finland. My mate wasted no time in fucking off talking to one he had pulled a couple of nights ago, leaving me at the bar on my tod. Within a couple of minutes the most sexy looking woman I had upto then ever seen appeared by my side and asked if she could by me a drink, Danish about 30, massive tits long blonde hair, tanned, perfect figure, arse that dreams are made of. You can imagine my surprise after about 5 minutes of me stammering and bumbling and spilling the beer she bought me, she suddenly gave me a very passionate snog and suggested we leave and catch a cab back to her hotel.

Before I had chance to gather my thoughts I found myself in the back of a cab heading out of town, with this godess doing things to me that caused me to have to resort to thinking about Margaret Thatcher in order to avoid bringing shame upon myself and indeed to leave anything that may offend the Greek taxi driver after we left his cab. As we pulled into one of Rhodes poshest hotels in Ixia, as well as Margaret Thatcher being in my thoughts and the fact that as I was walking through reception i was hoping nobody would notice I was walking with a "limp" i do remember very clearly visualising the pub back home and thinking "if only those cunts could see me now".

We were soon in what was quite a big suite type thing on about the tenth floor and It didnt take her long to remove my "frankie goes to bollocks bar t-shirt" and denim shorts, all i was wearing....and we were soon naked on her bed, she was also quickly naked and was all that one would have hoped and more......So what could possibly go wrong?

After what was probably about 10mins where Margaret Thatcher had been summoned several more times, godess on top of me when suddenly the Iron lady was banished from my thoughts when the bedroom door opens and in strides a fucking great 6 foot 5 viking wearing nothing but a pentax camera....its not unfair to say that he made a bloody good tripod for the Pentax. The cheery "HI" as he strode in did little to quell the rising panic, nor did her reassurances that it was only her husband, it was kind of surreal when he then went on to explain that he could take some nice pictures, and I could take some also, any thoughts of it perhaps being an idea to stick around went in a split second when the penny quickly dropped about what would be happening when it was HER turn to take some nice pictures.

I am fairly certain that what followed was quite unique, I am sure that nobody before or since has managed to jump off a bed and actually land in a Tshirt shorts and flop flops like some hypersonic mr Benn exit a hotel room and make it down 10 flights of stairs and through a sizable reception area and into the back of a taxi in 4 seconds but I did it. I do remember in the choas of my escape thinking.......Thank fuck those cunts back home cant see this.
 
purplenose said:
After BMRS fantastic effort I fell I should present the next edition of Jackanory

Are we sitting comfortably boys and girls? Right I shall begin...

Once upon a time on a far of Island called Rhodes a 19yr old Purplenose slightly wet behind the ears had arrived to work on resort for the first time and to begin my voyage of discovery that lay ahead that summer.

Having been there about a week i had realised that the majority of tourists on the Island were Northern European in short swarms of scandinavian crumpet. Everyone one a godess. Whilst this was visually a very good thing, I had come to the conclusion that this might not be a positive thing in terms of my prospects of getting a shag given I even usually failed to pull in the bamboo in Hazel Grove. The chances of pulling birds that made the blonde out of Abba slightly ropey seemed to me remote.

Soon one of the lads who I was working with suggested we go off down to the part of town were all the Scandinavian Crumpet went that evening assuring me that my doom laden prophecies of a summer of celibacy would be quickly proved to be bollocks. I recall the name of the club we went into, the JPS Club in Rhodes town, once inside it was like being drowned in pure beauty, wall to wall Scandinavian Amazon stunners from Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Finland. My mate wasted no time in fucking off talking to one he had pulled a couple of nights ago, leaving me at the bar on my tod. Within a couple of minutes the most sexy looking woman I had upto then ever seen appeared by my side and asked if she could by me a drink, Danish about 30, massive tits long blonde hair, tanned, perfect figure, arse that dreams are made of. You can imagine my surprise after about 5 minutes of me stammering and bumbling and spilling the beer she bought me, she suddenly gave me a very passionate snog and suggested we leave and catch a cab back to her hotel.

Before I had chance to gather my thoughts I found myself in the back of a cab heading out of town, with this godess doing things to me that caused me to have to resort to thinking about Margaret Thatcher in order to avoid bringing shame upon myself and indeed to leave anything that may offend the Greek taxi driver after we left his cab. As we pulled into one of Rhodes poshest hotels in Ixia, as well as Margaret Thatcher being in my thoughts and the fact that as I was walking through reception i was hoping nobody would notice I was walking with a "limp" i do remember very clearly visualising the pub back home and thinking "if only those cunts could see me now".

We were soon in what was quite a big suite type thing on about the tenth floor and It didnt take her long to remove my "frankie goes to bollocks bar t-shirt" and denim shorts, all i was wearing....and we were soon naked on her bed, she was also quickly naked and was all that one would have hoped and more......So what could possibly go wrong?

After what was probably about 10mins where Margaret Thatcher had been summoned several more times, godess on top of me when suddenly the Iron lady was banished from my thoughts when the bedroom door opens and in strides a fucking great 6 foot 5 viking wearing nothing but a pentax camera....its not unfair to say that he made a bloody good tripod for the Pentax. The cheery "HI" as he strode in did little to quell the rising panic, nor did her reassurances that it was only her husband, it was kind of surreal when he then went on to explain that he could take some nice pictures, and I could take some also, any thoughts of it perhaps being an idea to stick around went in a split second when the penny quickly dropped about what would be happening when it was HER turn to take some nice pictures.

I am fairly certain that what followed was quite unique, I am sure that nobody before or since has managed to jump off a bed and actually land in a Tshirt shorts and flop flops like some hypersonic mr Benn exit a hotel room and make it down 10 flights of stairs and through a sizable reception area and into the back of a taxi in 4 seconds but I did it. I do remember in the choas of my escape thinking.......Thank fuck those cunts back home cant see this.
Click to expand...







Now that made me chuckle.
 
bluemoon risin' said:
Not a dating site experience or shock horror as such, but......

Yesterday I finished off a 3 day job in Wisbech Cambs around 6-45pm to travel to Deepest Suffolk to stay in village called Debenham. Now Suffolk is like the back of beyond at the best of times, but Debenham is a blink and you'll miss it kid of place. Had a look on the internet to find digs and was looking up Stowmarket as todays job was nearer there than Debenham but as a contractor, I can't afford to pay £100 a night for a Hotel or b&b so Debenham it was as It was within budget. On arriving in the village It looked like It bred the first clown mask wearing weirdo,. The satnav took me up Cherry tree lane to a dead end, pitch black looking for a b&b that had no house number. We arrived at a farm house thinking It was the b&b. I knocked on the door and this old farmer eventually answered. I think I gave him the fright of the poor old boys life, and I wasn't wearing a fuckin' clown mask!. He didn't want to help so fair do's, I apologised for bothering him in asking for directions.

Driving up and down I had a banjo playing in my head... De de leng deng deng deng deng deng deng(squeal like a pig boy) Deliverance kind of way. Still no nearer to finding the place. I then suggested to my workmate we should drive in the village as I needed an ATM. Luckily, the Co op was open. Got some cash and drove off, still the satnav had us no closer. I said "stop here mate, I'll go in the pub(the Woolpack) On entering I noticed a blond women in her early 40's quite tall, decent figure. She was the only customer in there sat talking at the bar to the barman. Asking for directions, she knew exactly where the b&b was. Now she wasn't a stunner but bmr has had nowt since for about 6 weeks when I was 'big ugly feet', so she looked promising. 9.10pm we eventually found the place but. Turns out to be a lovely 16th century cottage with such a quirky endearing character about the place. I was fucked by this stage and dived straight in the shower to freshen up. The Original source extreme mint tingle was the only thing to have tingled my bell end in weeks and the plane Jane bespectacled blond bird in the pub seemed rather appealing by now, So my original plans of a shower and early night had gone as I got dressed to stroll down the pub. Not only that, as I got dressed The old Jewish couple in the b&b of the film Borat went through my head shapeshifting into insects, so that made up my mind to go down the pub and try my luck.

On entering the Woolpack she was still there as she was an hour earlier. I ordered a pint and begin chatting to her. She seemed friendly enough and I worked out straight away she was single. So after a couple of drinks last orders rang and before I knew it, it was chucking out time. I told her I fancied another drink and she suggested going back to her place. On entering, she went to the fridge and offered my an ice cold Bud. She looked quite sexy but there was something odd I couldn't work out about her. Next minute her cat leapt up on the sofa and began purring. "you're lucky, she likes you". I thought you'll be lucky later as I stroked her pussy-cat she said was 18 years old.

After more small talk about this n' that and then she revealed she is now transgender, and her name was Alan. I spat my drink over her poor moggy, got up and promptly fucked off there and then, back to the shapeshifters cottage!

Weirdest village I've ever been to, makes Stoke seem normal.
Click to expand...



If I ever become single mate I want you as a wing man. :)
 
I was leathered last night, can give a better response now....

I've had two girlfriends I met online. Infact, the first was my first "proper" girlfriend when I was 17/18, we went out for a year, nice at first but fucking hell she turned out to be a right fruit. She even texted me fairly recently, after 7/8 years, even though she has a kid and a fella, saying she still thinks about me all the time (her son even has my name....?!), but it was a polite fuck off as I found it inappropriate given she has a fella.

Second one only lasted a month, around 17 months ago. Lovely girl but she had a terrible sadness that was hard to contend with. I the end it was me who fucked up but sooner or later id've got in shit for summat else anyway.
 
I did internet dating for a few years after my divorce and had a brilliant time. Met lots of women i would never have otherwise met, didn't have a single bad experience.

The only shocker was a very butch looking lady from Warwick, clearly a lesbian from the photo, who kept pestering me for a date. That was well out of the geographical range i was looking for so i kept putting her off.

Eventually, for some unknown reason i still can't explain, i decised to put the thing to bed so i booked in a local hotel and drove down there.

In the flesh, she was miles better than the photo she'd posted and we're still together 8 years later.

The upshot is, be open-minded and don't go on there looking for an imaginary ideal.
 
Wreckless Alec said:
I did internet dating for a few years after my divorce and had a brilliant time. Met lots of women i would never have otherwise met, didn't have a single bad experience.

The only shocker was a very butch looking lady from Warwick, clearly a lesbian from the photo, who kept pestering me for a date. That was well out of the geographical range i was looking for so i kept putting her off.

Eventually, for some unknown reason i still can't explain, i decised to put the thing to bed so i booked in a local hotel and drove down there.

In the flesh, she was miles better than the photo she'd posted and we're still together 8 years later.

The upshot is, be open-minded and don't go on there looking for an imaginary ideal.
Click to expand...
In my head you turned up, she produced a strap on, fucked you senseless and now you are her woman.

Only in my head mind.
 
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