yet another date distaster pea - yes im quite the dashing blade

When I was a young blade, as much as I was a cheeky wee chap I was often none too clever at approaching girls. Unfortunately my best attempt at signalling my amorous intent was to stare at the object of my desire with the sort of thousand-yard stare psychiatric nurses dread. (I have since realised women don’t like this very much). So there we are down the favourite club, with my best mate, drinking beer and scanning the electric savannah – looking for the weak the young and the vulnerable.

And then I saw her.
Slender, beautiful, short blonde hair, high cheekbones flawless skin and perfect, perky little breasts bobbing around under a loose fitting shiny halter-top affair (late eighties). She also had the FINEST ASS I HAVE EVER SEEN. By now my eyes were swirling like that bloody snake in jungle book as she danced and laughed with her friends (mere fuzzy blobs in my peripheral vision). Smitten is not the word. The psychotic Bush Baby stare must have worked that night as lo and behold, the beautiful slender creature popped up beside me as if from nowhere (the shopkeeper in Mr Ben never looked anywhere near as good). With a lascivious look and sparkling blue eyes she chirped,
“So do you NEVER ask a girl to dance?”

Boing!
After an evening of snogging, groping, dancing, drinking then repeat, all too soon it was time to leave the club. By this time my confidence was growing as quickly as my pants seemed to be shrinking. I suggested her place; some coyish ‘no I can’t – really I can’t’ protests were quickly swept aside with my new found rakish charm. So we bundle out of a cab still a-gropin an' a-snoggin. Giggling as we get to her front door.

"SHHHH!" She tells me.

Oh, righto! I think, flatmate(s) asleep probably. The house is quiet and in darkness. We head straight to the bedroom, have a long deep kiss (I can make out little in the gloom) then she pops the bedside lamp on.

Fuck. Me.
Walls plastered with pictures of ponies, (apparently horse riding was responsible for the great ass) pictures of boy bands unknown, more ponies, but the clincher – a single bed covered in teddies, pandas, fluffy fucking camels you name it.

"Erm. How old did you say you were?"

“17” she assures me, pawing at my jeans.

At this time I was only 18 or 19 myself so thought, fair enough. It is only now with the benefit of years I regret not asking her to pop the school uniform on that was undoubtedly still in the wardrobe. So we go at it with the vigour gifted only to the young. Then sleep. Very early in the morning we wake and enjoy another blissful shag in a bed too small for two. Breathless, tired and still fuzzy from the previous night’s excesses I start to drift off. Suddenly I was awoken with a deep dig in the ribs.
“Quick! Hide! Get under the duvet" she hissed.
Before I could even ask I hear the bedroom door opening. A voice deeper than Bluto with laryngitis boomed,

“Mornin'! I’m going for the papers and some rolls, you want anything?”

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! Where are my clothes? Can he see my shoes lying on the floor? Does he have a gun? Then as if it could get no worse comes the fateful line…

“Who’s that?”

So there I am cowering under the duvet, in a single bed with some 17 - year olds father enquiring whom I might be. Cool as a frozen cucumber my hot, naked little minx replied,

“Tracy”

“Morning Tracy, you want anything from the shops love?”

(I may have let out a small whimper at this point)

“She’s still asleep Dad – hammered last night."

“Fair enough” and with that Glasgow’s answer to Barry White lumbered off.
Once I got my heart rate back down to mere humming bird levels, frantically I start looking for my clothes.

“What’s the rush – he’ll be at least half an hour?”

She was up for it again! I wish I could tell you my dear B3tards that I was cool and suave enough to attempt another but I think I was dressed and on the street within 60 seconds.

!
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 13:29, 5 replies)

Nice story.
First one I've read where Prodigy69 got a bit part
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Fri 18 Oct 2013, 14:13, closed)

Oh dear god.
The nonce is strong, with this one.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 14:27, closed)

eh? - i said I was 18 or so and thought she was a simliar age
and she probably was

I was a bit shocked to see a room full of fluffy gonks and horsey pics that had probably been there for years. the real shocker - and the point if the tale, was her bloody father appearing. i thought i might well be bludgeoned to death* by a huge angry Glaswegian

*yes i am aware you would see the benefit in this
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 16:43, closed)

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Tell it to the judge, Glitter.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 12:06, closed)

I didn't know
Trainspotting was a documentary.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 18:36, closed)