Master Disaster

Story Sent in by Ariane:

I wore a skirt on my first date with Sean. We met in front of a bar, and I nearly fell over when the first words out of his mouth were, "Ooh, a skirt. Thoughtful of you to think of easy access for me." He smiled and gave a sort of snort-laugh.

I asked, "Um... are you serious? That's not happening."

He held out his hand, palm-upward, in my direction. "You'll find my hand a good fit. I've been trained to find the g-spot by the master."

He stepped a bit closer, and I smelled the booze on him. I walked away as quickly as I could. He followed me. I heard him say, "My master taught me... my master, my master taught, my master, he taught me how to bend and fold and just give you the shivers. Let me in. Let me in or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your... your... I forget."

It was easy to maintain a distance between the two of us, as he was a stumbler. I made it back to my car and drove off.

Did I mention that a friend had set us up? I called her and told her everything. She apologized profusely, and I never heard a thing from or about Sean again.


  1. Grose !!!!! good on you for getting out of there so quick. it seems only a true pig will recite a story about pigs to a lady while drunk!!!

  2. so.. your friend was the master? She set you up with one of her students for a trial run.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Content Policy

A Bad Case of the Dates reserves the right to publish or not publish any submitted content at any time, and by submitting content to A Bad Case of the Dates, you retain original copyright, but are granting us the right to post, edit, and/or republish your content forever and in any media throughout the universe. If Zeta Reticulans come down from their home planet to harvest bad dating stories, you could become an intergalactic megastar. Go you!

A Bad Case of the Dates is not responsible for user comments. We also reserve the right to delete any comments at any time and for any reason. We're hoping to not have to, though.

Aching to reach us? abadcaseofthedates at gmail dot com.