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Metro
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
The date was going well - until we hit a strip club
At 25, I hit the dating apps – hard. I'd been single for about 18 months, having split with my long-term boyfriend for the simple reason that you don't tend to marry the guy you met at Clapham's Infernos when you're 21. It turned out I could do well as I really fancy short(er) guys, and every other woman seemed not to. I didn't have to be the best looking woman in the world, I just had to be in their inbox. While the app wasn't full of firemen, police men, or other hunks as the promo content implied (maybe they were thinking of the Village People?), I quickly matched with Dylan* and we started chatting. We almost got into a weird, penpal-type situation where we'd send each other long, hilarious messages that were almost competitively funny. So when he broke the jam and suggested going drinking and people-watching in a central London bar at 3pm on a Saturday, I agreed. While I was happy to go where the night took me, I had no idea just how mad things would get on that date. He arrived late and flustered, but at 5'7, blonde, blue-eyed and almost angelic-looking, he was forgiven. We sat at an outside table and ordered this fancy new drink everyone was talking about: a mojito. We nattered away, with Dylan telling me an anecdote about a dead dog on the Tube. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Sadly, it was a classic urban legend I'd read on the internet years before. Still, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and the chat was soon flowing as well as the drinks. One mojito turned into two, which turned into 10, and when it was closing time, we weren't sure where to go next. That's when someone, I truly can't remember who, suggested the strip club. Obviously, it was 'for a joke' but suddenly, we were heading to a London erotic dancing venue famed for being a tourist trap. I think we thought we were young, wild, and hedonistic. We were certainly very, very drunk and on a date that had now been going for 10 hours too long. Inside, it was immediately awkward. The dancers seemed as bemused as we were at the situation. We were shown to the table and audibly gulped at the prices. About £7 a beer – which all those years ago, was a lot. But we decided to drink through it. Dylan paid for everything, doing that very male thing of saying, 'No, no, I've got this, don't worry', despite the very large bill. So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact Neither of us wanted private shows, but within minutes a dancer had clambered onto the table, kicking over our overpriced beers in the process. She was wearing underwear but was completely topless. Dylan was more embarrassed than me, so he didn't really look. While Dylan was studying the menu prices and fending off dancers trying to drag him into the champagne room, I ended up talking to one known as 'Sapphire' for ages about her university course. She was studying biomedical sciences, so we spent half the night huddled over a napkin brainstorming career options over the top of very loud 90s R&B. 'Most expensive date I've ever been on,' Dylan muttered as we left around 4am. We went back to his place, a sprawling four-storey house he shared with his siblings in South London. But we didn't have sex: I don't think either of us could, or wanted to at that point – either down to drunkenness, overexposure, or both! Eventually, our conversation started to fizzle out. He started seeing someone else, and so did I. I told the story a few times to friends and forgot about him. Until one bank holiday weekend, around a year later. It was around 1am, and I was outside my flat with two mates, when a black cab pulled up. Dylan stepped out. More Trending He'd been nearby, remembered I lived around there from a cancelled plan months before, and thought he'd try his luck. No message. No call. No heads up. He hugged me like no time had passed and he joined me and my mates upstairs for a spontaneous drinking session. Sooner or later, Dylan and I were having sex in my bathroom, as my housemate who actually had to work that next day angrily banged on the door. He left in the morning, and I never saw him again. But I do still have that napkin with the biomedical science CV notes, in a shoebox of odd memories under my bed, just in case Sapphire ever needs it. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I filmed myself having sex – I was shocked it turned me on MORE: I got gonorrhoea, but my doctor doubted my explanation MORE: After a bad breakup two years ago, my boyfriend and I are trying again
Metro
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
I filmed a myself having sex - I was shocked it turned me on
Scrolling through my phone, I paused on the dirty clip I had all but forgotten about. After I pressed play, a nude figure appeared on the screen, sitting on the edge of a bed with come-hither eyes. Clearly she was waiting for her lover to give his next instruction. At first, you can only see his feet but then the camera suddenly angled upwards, exposing his crown jewels in all their glory. As he approached her, the sexual tension was palpable, which made a smile spread across my face because I knew exactly what happened next. And not just because I've watched this film before – or because porn plots are pretty obvious. See, this is actually my very own sex tape. That's right, I was the star of this show. While some people might cringe at the thought of making a homemade flick, filming myself during sex has never really phased me. In fact, I find it exciting. That's likely because I spent several years in long distance on-again, off-again relationships where technology played a huge part. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Conversation is all well and good but sometimes you just want to cum, even if it is through a phone. So when I once dated someone who lived around hundreds of miles away, and we had plenty of video sex. Granted, that's a little different from filming the act itself, but it certainly got me comfortable with seeing my body from every angle and on a screen. Then around 10 years ago, an ex of mine suggested we pull out the camera during sex. I was open to the idea and before I knew it, we were watching ourselves during our very own 'live show', shagging in the missionary position. He held the phone camera up with the lens facing towards us and pushed record. I had no apprehensions – because I trusted my partner implicitly – and we had a lot of fun making our two-minute-long clip. I'm not sure what else the lens captured though because we deleted our homemade porn straight afterwards. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big champion for enjoying the look and feel of your own body. It deserves your attention. But it's one thing to spend some time in front of the mirror looking at your beautiful shape (which I urge you to do) – it's quite another to see your own sex face in action and at that time I wasn't quite ready to see that. To some extent I still felt that way a few years later when my partner, Beau*, first suggested we film ourselves having sex using his phone. I truly never thought I'd watch the clip back and I had every intention of deleting it once we were finished, but I must have forgotten. Now I'd stumbled across the sexy video again and I couldn't help but be intrigued. At first, as I watched the scene unfold, I was a little embarrassed. Then I realised that I was sitting alone in my bedroom with no one looking over my shoulder, and so I decided to just go for it. I was shocked to discover just how hot it can be to watch yourself have sex. I also hadn't expected it to be a turn-on but it definitely was. Some people may consider this egomaniacal or self-involved, which is your prerogative. But my pleasure didn't come from admiring myself on screen, but rather memories that the film brought back. The clip was only about 60 seconds long – I'm not even sure it falls under the category of sex tape, but that's besides the point – but it still made my toes curl as I thought about how much fun I'd had that night and what followed after we'd put the phone down. It also gave me a confidence boost of sorts. Rather than feel critical of my frame (I have hang-ups just like anyone else) I felt brave for exposing myself. More than that, rediscovering my sex tape helped me see my body in a new light. Agree on the content ahead of time Don't rush into it Try foreplay before the camera starts rolling Don't be afraid to stick to what you know Protect your tape And I'm not the only one. Ten years ago, a YouGov poll found that 16% of Britons aged 25 to 39 years old had turned the camera on themselves while 3% of those aged over 60 had also made their own sex tapes. I don't have any proof but I suspect that number could be much higher now, especially as phone cameras have improved! So if you, like me, feel excited by the thought of turning the camera on yourself during a sexy set-up – go for it. You could role play, dress up and live out your wildest fantasy on screen. Or just do what my lovers and I did, and keep the set-up more casual. But before you pick up the camera, remember there are risks to documenting your sex life in this way. If you're making an amateur sex tape with someone else, there needs to be clear boundaries on what happens to the clip once you're finished: I highly recommend you do this with someone you know and trust, rather than turning a one-night-stand or casual hook-up into your very own horny home movie. And please, keep any sensitive images or videos of this kind in a password-protected folder. In my case, I only said yes to filming our sex act because I had control over what would happen with the material. Beau told me that he was fine with keeping our clip on my phone because his face wasn't visible – only mine was – and therefore I knew that I was more at risk, should it be leaked. Out of respect to my boyfriend, I have since deleted the evidence of my fabulously torrid past long ago. I don't feel the need to relive those sexual experiences because my sex life is now pretty great. More Trending Our current bedroom activities don't need spicing up, but I will say it got me thinking: perhaps it's time to film things again with my partner? To be continued in private, or behind the camera… * Name has been changed View More » This piece was originally published in November 2024. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I got gonorrhoea, but my doctor doubted my explanation MORE: After a bad breakup two years ago, my boyfriend and I are trying again MORE: Days after my son's birth, I made a life-changing realisation
Metro
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
After a bad breakup two years ago, my boyfriend and I are trying again
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week we hear from Olivia*, a 33-year-old marketing manager in London, who has sex about four times a week. She's back with her ex, Patrick*, who she split up with two years ago. The pair hadn't spoken since, until a chance meeting brought them back together. 'We split because we didn't properly communicate and ended up having resentment towards each other,' Olivia says. 'I was struggling with my mental health which I now know is premenstrual dysphoric disorder, and I put a lot of pressure on him to be there for me.' After bumping into each other on the overground, Patrick texted Olivia later that evening and suggested dinner. They met up the very next day and decided to give their relationship another go. 'The last thing I want is a situationship with my ex, so we had a big discussion about what we want from each other and how to make it work this time around,' she adds. While they're in they're back in the honeymoon phase, it hasn't been without some minor hiccups — but they know that, this time, they want to be together for good. Without further ado, here's how Olivia got on this week… The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work . Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! I spent the night at Patrick's yesterday. We start off the day with a lie in and wake up for morning sex. I've accidentally bled a bit, so we strip the sheets and pop them in the wash. I notice an old blood stain on his mattress – which definitely wasn't there the last time we dated. For a second I get an icky feeling in my stomach thinking of him with another girl… and then remember we were broken up for two years, and force myself to quickly move on. I know that Patrick noticed me notice the blood stain and was about to say something about it when I changed the topic. We both (usually) work from home so I set up at his dining table and he works from his desk. I'm in the middle of a Zoom meeting when Patrick crawls under the dining table and starts to go down on me – we used to do this all the time, and I'm quickly reminded of why I loved it so much. Thankfully I've done all the talking I need to do so I'm muted. I'm trying my best to not let it show on my face, but have to quickly turn off my camera. We end up having a quickie on the couch and I jump back on my Zoom call to say goodbye to everyone, pretending as if I haven't just come while they brainstormed the next campaign. I have a late start to the work day since my boss is in Brazil and Patrick's clients are in town, which means he has a full night of schmoozing ahead of him. When we wake up, we haven't even spoken a word to each other when I feel Patrick's hand on my thigh. We make the most of our altered work day with a few rounds of sex and an hour of pillow talk. We say how much we've missed one another, laugh about inside jokes from when we were first together, and catch up with what we've missed out on when we were broken up. We're both going to therapy now and feel like we're in a better place where we can show up for each other, as well as ourselves. The sex is great, but the emotional intimacy is what I've missed most about our relationship. I feel smitten all over again. I wake up in a great mood today. Work has been going great and waking up to Patrick every day wasn't on my bingo card this year – it's been a wonderful surprise. We're planning an upcoming campaign shoot in Amsterdam which means I get to be creative and deal with the little logistics – I credit the Virgo in me for genuinely getting excited about this. I follow Patrick into the shower and dare I say it – it may have been the best sex we've ever had. He turns me around and pushes me up against the wall. I usually hate his mirrored shower, but this time I can't stop watching him while he f**ks me. I'm not usually one for shower sex (is anyone really?) but this time around feels different. I could definitely get used to this. I go into the office today and am quickly sent home after two panic attacks. I'm PMSing this week and I realise that I haven't kept up with my antidepressants, a rookie mistake that I've unfortunately made more times than I would have liked. I call Patrick when I leave the office and he tells me to go back to his. My mental health had been a bit of a sensitive topic the last time we were together, so I'm glad he's being supportive this time around. With my PMDD I went through extreme highs and lows, which was confusing for us both. And during my low points, I couldn't regulate my emotions – I'd often just burst into tears out of nowhere or lash out. Patrick didn't know how to be there for me, and I didn't know what I needed. It was frustrating for both of us to go through the same issue every month. He's on a call when I get back to his so I take my antidepressant, grab the dog, and head to bed for a midday nap. I'm feeling like myself again when I wake up so I put in a few hours of work and then give Patrick a blowjob as my way of saying thank you. I order in some Chinese for us, and we're quickly rolling around in bed – Patrick is going down on me and I'm just about to finish – before we are interrupted by the Deliveroo driver. At this point I couldn't care less about the food. I just want to finish off what we started, but this time I'll have to wait. I've now spent every day this week at Patrick's place and, aside from taking the dog for a walk, have barely left the flat. We've spent the past five evenings catching up, ordering in and having the most incredible sex ever. Today I'm woken up with a massage and a new set of matching lingerie – which doesn't stay on for very long. He gets a dozen roses delivered to me at lunch time and makes us dinner reservations at a fancy restaurant in Shoreditch… Happy birthday. We go back to his after dinner and our clothes are off before we even make it to the bedroom. He leads me to the bed and I jump on top of him. I can tell he's going to finish right away so he flips me over and go into doggy. It's a perfect day until we head to bed at 1am and he gets a phone call from another woman while I'm getting unready. I obviously try my best to eavesdrop, but I remind myself not to jump to conclusions. 'I can't talk right now.' I'm trying my best not to let my triggers get the best of me. Before I can finish brushing my teeth, Patrick runs to the bathroom to tell me it was his old neighbour – he hasn't spoken to her in years and has no idea why she's calling. I have trust issues from past relationships and try my best not to let it trigger me. Patrick has never given me a reason to doubt him, but after so much time apart, I'm not sure who this woman is or if they've ever had a relationship. He tells me they barely know one another and shows me their texts – the last time they spoke was a few years ago. I'm not really sure what to believe or what to say and I am definitely not in the mood to talk about it. Regardless of the reason behind her call, my birthday is officially ruined. Patrick shows me the text he's sent to his neighbour. He tells her he has a girlfriend and that her calling is uncalled for, even though they've never been intimate with each other. He asks her to please stop contacting him. I'm glad he's sent this message but there's still a lot to discuss. I realise now might be the perfect time to address everything we never got around to when we decided to get back together. Communication was never our strong suit, so even though this was not the way I wanted to wake up the morning after my birthday, I'm thankful we're actually communicating and not falling into old habits. We have makeup sex and I feel good about our conversation. He reassures me there's nothing to be worried about. He's not seeing anyone else and hasn't been dating for the past few months. We both tell each other how happy the other makes us and promise to have grown up conversations this time around, so we can avoid the same arguments we had before. It's finally time for me to go home. I meet a friend for dinner and a late-night screening at the cinema. I feel quite proud of myself for saving my pennies by sneaking in a few drinks, until the couple next to me whips out a container of hot popcorn they've brought from home – now that's impressive. Patrick and I go for a Sunday Roast and a long walk around Victoria Park before we head back to his to watch a movie. For once we actually get through the film without jumping on one another. More Trending This is the first time we've been together without having sex. I don't like that this has happened after our fight the other night, but I'm trying not to overthink. He pulls me closer and grabs my hand – without saying anything he's given me all the reassurance that I need, and I know I've made the right choice. View More » My friends and family can tell how happy I am with Patrick back in my life. He's also been putting in much more effort and properly getting to know them, which definitely helps. I know it's early days, but it feels different this time. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: These are the most common reasons couples divorce after years together MORE: I thought I'd been punched – but three strangers had stabbed me MORE: Stormzy's 'girlfriend' speaks out about relationship for the first time
Metro
26-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Metro
This is the best time of day to have sex, according to your age
For some, morning sex is the ultimate way to start the day, while others might prefer a gentle afternoon session or even an evening liaison. So, is there a perfect time of the day to have sex? And do your preferences change as you age? While it's not necessarily a one-size-fits-all answer, one study found that partnered sex most often happens late at night. Early evening was reportedly the second most popular time slot, but 16% of respondents preferred an early morning masturbation session to the evening (10%), while foot sex, toy sex, virtual sex, anal and BDSM were more likely to take place in the late afternoon. Gender also comes into it, as research from Lovehoney revealed that men are generally hornier between 6am and 9am. On the other hand, women are more likely to get aroused between 11pm and 2am, with just 11% admitting to feeling frisky in the early hours. However, that doesn't necessarily mean it's the best time to do it, more that it's the most common. So, how does age impact how you get off? The average Brit might lose their v-card at the tender age of 17, but its actually your 20s that are likely to be one of the horniest eras of your life. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! As Mike Kocsis, hormone health expert and founder of Balance My Hormones tells Metro, your hormones are typically at their most 'robust' throughout your 20s – which is when you're at your peak fertility-wise. 'You have a higher libido, especially around ovulation, and you have more energy and emotional response to intimacy,' Mike explains. Biologically, your body is telling you to make babies (whether you want kids or not) so you might wake up raring to go – making morning the ideal time to get down and dirty. Your 20s are also an ideal time for 'exploration and spontaneity.' So April Maria, sexologist at Hot Octopuss, suggests that the best time can also be 'whenever the mood strikes.' However, if you're taking hormonal contraception like the pill, patch or vaginal ring, your hormonal cycles will typically be suppressed – and your testosterone levels will diminish, quashing your libido. If you want to up that libido, it might be time to ask a GP about alternatives. Get up the shared calendar, because your 30s are the era to embrace scheduled sex. The best time is whenever you have time. Throughout your 20s, you're often able to be spontaneous, but as your third decade dawns, you might find yourself taking on responsibilities, like small children or a high-stress job, that necessitate planning in the bedroom. These changes might also increase your stress levels – which can spell trouble hormonally. As Mike explains, the stress hormone can interfere with the production of sex hormones, increasing prolactin (which 'suppresses reproductive function') and decreasing dopamine – AKA, the pleasure hormone. It's not all bad news, though. Your 30s are home to all kinds of hormonal shifts – and in Mike's view, these can actually make your sex life 'deeper and more emotionally satisfying.' 'Sex can become less driven by hormonal spikes and more by trust, connection, and oxytocin-driven bonding,' Mike explains. 'Fluctuations in oestrogen and testosterone can make sex drive less predictable, but stronger body awareness and emotional depth can lead to more satisfaction.' In your 40s, you could find that your routines change again. Your children might have grown into teenagers – leaving the window open for morning sex as they sleep in – or work stress might've settled with experience. With that in mind, this golden era sees the return of spontaneity. Timings-wise, morning sex 'might make a comeback — or you might find weekends, lunch breaks, or those spontaneous, stolen moments suit you best', says April. Hormonally, though, when women reach menopause, typically between the ages of 45 and 55, changes can impact arousal levels. Your libido might be lower, vaginal dryness can creep in, and plummeting testosterone levels mean it might take longer to orgasm. In other words, forget the quickies of your 20s. This needn't be a bad thing, though, as these hormonal drops can mean you're 'more sensitive to what feels good and what doesn't.' As Mike shares, this could make you 'feel less willing for unfulfilling sex, encouraging better self-awareness and communication with partners.' And so, during your 40s, it becomes even more important to carve out an 'intentional, pressure-free' space for intimacy. Throughout your 50s, both oestrogen and testosterone tend to decline – but that doesn't mean that your sexuality needs to fade with it. Just like your 40s, this period presents an opportunity to be more intentional with sex – and as Mike says, 'oxytocin becomes more important than ever for intimacy.' And so, sex in your 50s is less about frequency and more about sensuality, which can include non-sexual forms of intimacy like 'cuddling, communication, and skin-to-skin contact.' Timing-wise, this decade is ideal for making the most of morning or midday intimacy, and it's all about seizing the moment your energy levels are most likely to peak. The early bird catches the worm, as they say. Throughout this period, you might experience disruptions like sleep disturbances, temperature changes, vaginal dryness, and unreliable erections – and all of these factors can impact both timing and desire. 'For some, exploring morning or midday sex, when energy is higher and the body is more rested, can feel more enjoyable and accessible,' April adds, noting that 'listening to your body and what feels right for you is essential.' Hormonally, your 60s present a golden opportunity to prioritise pleasure. Your children might have grown up and flown the nest, and as you edge closer to retirement, work worries will soon be a thing of the past. As Mike explains, in your 60s and beyond, you might find yourself in a 'phase of sexuality that's richer and more intentional than ever.' More Trending Decreasing stress levels can also lower cortisol levels – and without hormones fluctuating throughout the month, your body is able to 'stop swinging between highs and lows.' In turn, this can lead to a clearer relationship with your desire, even if the desire is quieter than it was in the past.' Largely, it's like being in your 20s again – just with a few more wrinkles. Physically, your body responds better with more time and relaxation under its belt, so April advises that afternoons and early evenings might present an apt opportunity to explore intimacy. View More » She adds that 'slowing down is key,' as well as 'leaning into new ways to explore pleasure outside the social norm.' What's sexier than that? Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: I told my girlfriend I cheated on her — now she won't stop harping on about it MORE: I love watching my four partners have sex — it's more satisfying than my own orgasm MORE: Swipe right? Under 40s are more open to dating Reform voters than Tories
Metro
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
He was the perfect man – then I smelled his Guinness farts
I never thought that I'd be a woman who used dating sites. But during a long dry-spell, there I was on a Friday in 2010, in my pyjamas with a glass of wine and using a site like a Sims character generator. I'd type in strange combinations of looks and personality traits – lives in London, green eyes, Scottish, works in media, likes cats and kickboxing – just for the hell of it. Surprisingly, a match popped up. His name was Brodie* and the desired green-eyed Scot. A comment from his bio claiming he'd once made friends with a pigeon in Hackney made me laugh. We got chatting. He used full, punctuated sentences, and made minimal references to the word 'banter'. We really hit it off. But then he asked if I wanted to meet for a drink, and I panicked. If I went through with this, would I be a loser for meeting a man on dating sites? I closed my laptop and decided internet dating wasn't for me. A week later, my company sent me to work at a trade show. I arrived on time, got set up at the stand and waited for my work partner to show up. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! It was Brodie. I recognised him instantly. Unflatteringly, he didn't recognise me. At all. Which was probably fair, considering my profile photos had been taken from a (very) flattering angle with (very) strategic lighting, makeup and art-direction from two female friends. Brodie kept saying asking, ' You look so familiar, have we met before?' to which I replied, 'I've just got one of those faces' – that ominous phrase used by villains in Netflix shows, or people who've ghosted their new colleague on a dating app a week before. Every time Brodie shifted in his seat, the smell intensified Despite the awkward origin story, we got on well. Brodie really was funny and genuinely kind, and helped me pack up the stand when it turned out we'd ordered 400 more branded tote bags than anyone wanted. As we were leaving, he asked me out for a drink (again). I panicked, again, and said no. I'd end up admitting that we'd already met online and look like a weirdo for not saying anything sooner. Back at home, however, I felt cross with myself. Where was my lack of spontaneity? If I wanted to break this never-ending dry spell, I needed to be proactive. Also, I realised grimly, I should probably also be honest. I logged in, found Brodie's profile, and typed, 'You won't believe this, but…' To his credit, he found the whole thing funny. That had to be a good sign. We arranged to meet up two nights later. I got on the G&TS, he was on the Guinness. There was no first-date awkwardness, because we'd already spent two days bonding over branded lanyards. I was starting to relax when it happened. The smell. At first I thought it was the drains. Or someone had dropped some scampi fries down the back of the radiator several months earlier. I even furtively checked the bottom of my shoes. But then it happened again. And again. And again. It was Brodie. He'd let out a succession of silent but deadly farts. It became harder and harder to make small talk when being slowly suffocated by a cloud of Guinness gas but I stuck it out – until the smell began to travel. I saw the bartender wrinkle his nose, then sniff the beer trap. A couple next to us moved tables. Every time Brodie shifted in his seat, the smell intensified. I began to drink more, because having a glass close to my face somewhat blocked out the stench, and tried to breathe through my mouth. Five drinks in, and I swear the air was shimmering. It was less of a smell now and more of a malign presence. There were three of us on this date. When I saw a group of girls at a nearby table spraying perfume into the air, I realised I couldn't take it anymore. As Brodie leaned forward to start another story, the smell enveloped me, like a pungent cloak, and I blurted out: 'I have to go now.' He looked surprised, but agreed it was late (it was 9pm). I accepted his hug goodbye, angling my face away from the source. When I got home, I could still smell him on my clothes. I stripped off, scrubbed under a scalding shower, then deleted my dating profile for good. He messaged the next morning: 'Such a great time last night! Hope we can do it again, x' More Trending With a grimace, I replied: 'Yeah was fun! V busy at work but will let you know :)' then hid my phone under a sofa cushion. I took a break from dating for good. I worked on myself: I joined a gym and a yoga class, both of which smelled better than Brodie did. Online dating truly wasn't for me. I should have trusted my gut – and not date someone who fills theirs with Guinness on an empty stomach. Name has been changed Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I can't get over what I saw at the school gates MORE: I've slept with older and younger men – there's a big difference MORE: 'I thought it was a hangover – but then my headache didn't stop'
