GTSMatch.com
I was bored. Bored and lonely, I guess you could say. I was having no luck at all in the bar/club scene, so on one particular Friday night instead of going out, I logged on and did a Google search for dating sites. The usual popped up in the search first, but I was hoping there might be something more in line with my tastes. I kept searching page after page until one address caught my eye. It called itself GTSMatch.com, with no affiliation for the normal site you may be familiar with.
I clicked on the address and waited for the site to download. Sure enough, I started seeing pictures of very attractive women smiling back at me. It promised new people like me the chance for something MORE out of a relationship. They kept capitalizing such words like MORE, BIGGER, GIANT, etc. You get the idea. I felt they were cheap marketing gimmicks, so I ignored it and clicked on the button for a free tour. I started perusing pages of gorgeous women’s faces. I had no idea if the women in these pictures were actually the girls I might meet, or if they were captured from other sites and plugged in, just to get men to sign up.
After spending a half hour on this site, I was nearly ready to log off and find a simple porn site when one woman caught my attention. She was indicated as logged in right then, so I clicked on her page. She was a gorgeous creature of 30+ years of age, a very sizeable chest, and a dazzling smile complete with stunning green eyes. I clicked the button “talk to her” and got her attention. She said was the real deal, but to continue the conversation I had to join the site. Well, sometimes in life you just have to say, what the hell. I whipped out my credit card and joined the site quickly.
I found her again and we started an instant chat. She told me her name was Ingrid and she hailed from Wimbledon, England. However, she moved to my city two years ago and got her citizenship. We shared a lot of information, and she seemed really nice. Ingrid even sent me more pictures of herself, and they all checked out. Either she had an entire collection of fake photos of the same woman, or this stunning redhead was really her. A lot of them were candid photos friends took of her, so that had me believing she was telling the truth. I sent her a couple of mine, and she seemed to be very interested in me.
Well, long story short, we exchanged information including phone numbers. Soon we were off the computer and talking over the phone. When I initially called her, my cell phone battery was fully charged. Before I knew it, two hours had passed, my phone was burning hot in my hand, and I could hear the tell-tale beep of low battery status in my ear. Quickly, so as not to lose her connection, I plugged in my phone and continued on. Ingrid had a very pretty laugh at my expense, since she could hear me stumble around my apartment looking for my charger.
I guess Ingrid felt comfortable enough with me to ask to meet up. She was too tired to meet me that night, so we made plans to see one another the next day. I told her where I lived, and she agreed to come over. We hung up at two a.m. and crashed. I was so tired, but felt nervously excited too.
The next day I woke up and smiled at my bedroom ceiling. Today I would have my first date in over three months. Ingrid was going to meet me at noon. Better get this place cleaned up, I thought, and threw myself out of bed. I showered, shaved, dressed, and quickly ate breakfast. After that, I tore through my place like a cleaning tornado, either scrubbing something clean or hiding it behind furniture or in a closet. When I felt happy with my results, I paced around the apartment waiting for noon to arrive. Oh how time slows down when you’re expecting a lovely woman to arrive at your place!
After an hour and half, the doorbell finally chimed. I straightened my shirt, smoothed my hair in the mirror, and opened the door. Sure as she said last night, Ingrid was now at my doorstep. This woman was stunning, to say the least. Long red hair, sparkling green eyes, a massive healthy chest, tight waist, great ass, long white legs (hey, she IS British, and they’re not known for their bronze tans), down to her feet in sexy gold-colored high heels. She carried a large duffle bag over her shoulder, and my first impression was that she intended to stay the night. Looking the way she did, I was completely fine if she did!
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