Not me but a non-deviant, male acquaintance was on a blind date.
Then evening had progressed, he thought, rather well. When out of the blue she very matter of fact way that she hoped that he understood that, "No means no." Rather perturbed by this comment and the implication that she thought him a potential date rape rapist he responded thusly.

"Stop crying, you're getting it anyway."
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 21:46, 3 replies)

I got the feeling something might be amiss with her,
when the dog jumped on the bed on the morning. She told me it liked the same things I did, then wanked it off.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 19:48, 2 replies)

And I would've got away with it, too,
if it wasn't for those meddling kids.
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 13:48, 15 replies)

Although I did cum on her tits
it does mean that if the Police get a sample of my DNA, they'll be able to connect me to the murder.
( Muns, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 13:34, 6 replies)

JOANNA YOU STUPID HEARTLESS BITCH

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 12:02, 2 replies)

Famed novelist, raconteur and piss-head Kinglsey Amis tells this story
About his friend, the Kremlinologist and poet, Robert Conquest. At one of Amis' drunken parties, Conquest proceeds to get lucky with a lady and takes her upstairs to a bedroom for a jolly rogering. Concerned about the impression others would get of them both reappearing at the same time, Conquest lowers himself down a drainpipe into the garden and back into the hubbub of the alcoholic soiree. Ever the ladies man, Conquest proceeds to continue trying his luck, and propositions a woman, who slapped him on the face.

It was the same woman he'd fucked earlier.
(McChinaman banned, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 11:54, 2 replies)

I was on a date last night... Had some trouble. My cock's just too big. Look, I wrote a poem about it:
My date said to me last night "hey you, come here and poke us"
I said "I can’t, because I’m hung - like a fucking diplodocus"
"Yes, I know" she said "but please stop being such a bore"
I yelled out "but my cock's the size of an entire dinosaur!"

She saw it then, and gasped in shock and wonder and surprise,
When she noticed my cock had leviathanic size,
I tried to shag this one girl once, but knackered both her thighs in,
And that’s because my massive cock, it bends 'round the horizon.

She said "if you're sticking that in me, I need to get quite pissed"
She couldn’t see my bell-end, it had vanished in the mist
She licked right up and down my cock, a bit like Sally Gunnell
But that didn't work, and so I fucked the Dartford Tunnel.

She tried to stick it in her, and she worked it inch by inch in,
My dick was hardly even wet when her cunt started pinching,
And that was odd, because she' got a fanny like a welly
I couldn't stick it in with half a ton of K Y Jelly.

She said "I don't know what to do!" and shrugged and gave a cough
"You really need an Elder God to come and suck you off!"
And so I left her, walked outside, and got a round of golf in,
It’s probably for the best, ‘cos I’ve got sperm the size of dolphins.
(SigourneysBeaver took off and nuked the entire site from orbit on, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 9:26, 19 replies)

I sat through a film called Sliding Doors in the hope that she'd have sex with me, AND took her to a pub afterwards.
Fuck's sake - I reckon it would be easier to just approach people with legal contracts and a CV.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 9:07, 18 replies)

we met in a Boots
I asked her if this cream would help my genital warts. she said she'd ask her teacher the next day. She was my ideal woman, hair like ripe avocados, and an anus that could hold a beach umberella in a gale. I knew that a woman like that would have to be romanced, so I asked her if she'd like to have my fuck missile explode in her ham silo. She said she wasn't into star wars, but she'd give me a titwank for an oyster card.
As soon as we got in the door she had her hand down my pants. I had to walk back and force her to drop my wallet. She asked me if I had ever made love to the Bolero, I said I preferred Dale's Supermarket Sweep. She was like a gymnast in bed. Fourteen. We started with a rusty trombone, then a cleveland steamer, and finally a kidderminster shagpiledriver that dislocated my wrist. She asked me to treat her mean so I told her she had the dress sense of a bosnian refugee. I gave her multiple organisms and she made me sleep in the wet spot. She touched me in places no woman had touched me before, like my duodenum. Sometimes, in some situations, I'm instantly transported back to that night, such as when I see a swan choking to death on mayonaisse
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 6:20, 14 replies)

Royal Ballet. Police escort. Not ideal.
I moved to Australia a couple of years back from London and met what I thought was a nice girl, if a little feisty after a few drinks, (for feisty, read abusive, spiteful, and aggressive). Anyway, deciding to take this paragon of princessly charms back to the UK to meet the folks seemed like a good idea, and given that she and my 65 year old mother both like ballet I invested in the best seats money could buy at The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden where the Royal Ballet were performing Swan Lake. Something of a classic, you'd agree.

Bear in mind this was 4 days after she'd met the family (she got drunk at my Nan's 90th and lied that my sister and niece were saying stuff about me behind my back - always likely to make her popular with the relatives as obviously I'd checked in surprise as we're very tight as a family), so I'd assumed she'd behave herself for this event.

Sizeable fail on my part.

So, a very slowly consumed 2 glasses of champagne each were imbibed by all parties pre theatre along with some nibbles in Covent Garden, and all was fine until the interval, at which point the girlfriend offered to go get the drinks.

She took her time so eventually I went to look for her and found her at the bar, in theory just getting served. Odd I thought, but maybe the queues were that bad. Anyway, she'd bought a champagne and a G&T for mum. The bell went for the next act along with a reminder that dinks couldn't be taken into the auditorium, so she necked them both. (I found out later she'd also necked shots of neat vodka and at least one other glass of champagne before me finding her.)

We got back upstairs and during the second act it got interesting. Loud talking in the silence of all the well to do people around us trying to watch the ballet, followed by telling said patrons to "fuck off" when they asked her to be quiet, followed by having a go at me for random items not related to that evening, followed by semi shouting at me for not defending her against the people asking her to please stop the noise. I told her to pipe down as she was ruining it for everyone, and said we could discuss afterwards, but that apparently wasn't acceptable - cue a fresh torrent of abuse followed by her storming out. Exactly what you want with your pensioner mum sat next to you absolutely mortified at the monstrosity her son has bought home with him.

Anyway, I had no intention of following her so sat back to try and relax through the performance, despite one very posh lady coming over at the next interval asking me very politely not to let "that lady" back in.

I'd relaxed slightly by the end of the show and was walking down the stairs when approached by an usher who enquired as to whether I was with the lady in the purple dress. With a due sense of dread I confirmed that I was, to then be told, "she's outside with the police sir, could you please follow me?"

What it seems happened was that the drunken psycho had gone for another cheeky drink to drown her sorrows (as you do), then become quite upset, and verbally abusing those who asked if se was ok. Then followed throwing pieces of fruit at random people, attempting to play the piano in the opera house bar, and I quote, "harassing a few groups of customers".

When asked to leave she started pushing the staff member who spoke to her, then took a swing at the manager when he was called to deal with the situation. The police were subsequently called and when they arrived she got physical (not like that you perverts) with one of the coppers. She'd also for some reason told them I was her husband too, which confused things even more.

Myself and mum then had to take her home despite her alternating between abuse and being upset because I wouldn't hold her hand or give her a cuddle. Personally I'd have preferred it if they'd locked her up for the night, but hey ho...

Sadly the opera house manager didn't press charges, and the lovely young lady didn't remember her behaviour in the morning.

She was however both surprised and upset that I wasn't as enthusiastic as I might have been about looking at engagement rings that weekend, and she remains to date, the only person I'm aware of that's been physically removed from The Royal Opera House by the police.

So basically a terrible date and not quite the first impression I wanted my mum to have of the girl I was shacked up with...

Epilogue:
That particular relationship finally ended a couple of months later (we were living together before the UK trip) when she broke her hand hitting me and I walked out. There was some stalking (by her), and a fake pregnancy (announced on facebook), general abuse and threats, putting all my financial documents such as mortgage etc in a skip outside the house, and threats of calling the police to tell them I'd been hitting her etc (she'd already told her family that but they didn't believe her), but luckily Ii survived to tell the tale!

Lesson(s) learned, in no small way. Finally!


(Needless to say from the above that she was stunning and the sex was amazing - blatantly why I put up with her for so long. :-/)
(Isaac Hunt., Wed 23 Oct 2013, 0:37, 17 replies)

I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why but I had to start it somewhere, so it started.....there.

I said pretend you've got no money, she laughed and said you're so funny.

I said yeah? Well I can't see anybody else smiling in here.

So I fucked her off. Yeah.
( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 23:30, 7 replies)

I had a date with a girl..
We met at the seaside, she called my name and gave me a wave, Ive kept it in a bucket ever since
(lordy lordy, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 22:48, Reply)

I had a date with this bird in london once. she had whispy red hair on her cheeks, a little west-country like inbreeding I guess, but I forced myself to look past that
What I couldn't look past was that from the moment I met her at the tube station until we parted ways she carried on without a comma entirely about herself, her job which was an usher at one of the theatres which was soooo interesting, and her friends, who she kept talking about as if I was personally familiar with them. "So Seb and Tran were smoking at the stage door, when Anita was stuck alone in the foyer..blah, blah, blah"
I really pushed the boat out, I had a picnic set up in St James Park, chilled wine, blanket, dips, the works. But with each passing minute of her waffling narcissism I felt my attraction diminish until if she offered me a blowjob there and then I would have turned her down.
Well, maybe not. At least it would have shut her up for a bit.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 22:16, Reply)