Soul mates

Biggish

Old-Salt
I’ll set the scene.
A flight from Sydney to Heathrow, on Qantas.
I’d requested extra legroom, because I’m very tall and we were economy. We (my Mrs and I) boarded and had the 3 seats over the wing box, so loads of space to stretch out and kip.
Or so we thought.
The flight was short by 1 passenger, so after waiting at the gate for 40 minutes, Jabba the Hutt decides to join us. As soon as the Kent turned right at the door, I knew where he would be sat.
Stows his hand luggage, removes his shirt, trousers, socks, and puts his PJ’s on. The wife and I are chuckling etc.
I’m in the middle of a 3 seat row. 11 seconds after take off, the Mrs is snoring to the right, and Jabba is snoring to the left. I’m in the middle with twin gusts of wheelie bin breath and no escape.
The wonderful flight attendant has clocked this, and she asked me if I’d like a drink.
I had no currency on me, and everything else was in the hold. So I politely declined, with my bottom lip vibrating gently.
About 5 minutes later, the same girl walked past and dropped a bottle of red in my lap and said ‘This one’s on me Dahl’
Her uniform fitted where it touched, and I’ve often wondered whether I blew my chance at joining the mile high club.

ETA

What are your stories of opportunities missed, or fat people interference?
But for the fickle hand of fate, who should you be with?
Possibly a matelot with a moustache after a drunken liaison?
An Air Cadet in a portakabin at Fairford?
A disinterested nurse who stuck a swab up your broken nose in Cyprus?
An Air Vice Marshall who tried to Spock you after the Harvest Festival celebrations in Ludlow in 1996?

Who’s your true love, and why aren’t you with/ in them now?
 
Last edited:
I went to Specsavers when I was in NI, years ago. In I go to the consultation room and an absolutely stunning blond was the optician. She was a little bit older than me and again was absolutely stunning. We went in to another room so that she could do the mechanical bit of the tests and then said that she was going to look in my eyes with the Ophthalmoscope.
Normally I'd had this done in a normal treatment room, lights on, quick glance in to both my eyes, job done. This time, she turned the lights off and was checking my eyes for fecking ages! Every now and again, our cheeks would touch or legs rub together. Mind goes nuts "is this a come on? Should I ask her out? Go on, break the ice, do something" I was absolutely screaming to do something or at least take a chance and ask her out but bottled it.
Had to go back to camp for a couple of cans and a ****. Standard Saturday night back then!

Then there was the time I could have banged my (female) OC, but that's just for me that one. I showed a herculean amount of restraint, put it that way!!!
 
Oh and my absolute true love married a Canadian Matelot. Another opportunity missed because I didn't say anthing to her when we were younger
 
I’ll set the scene.
A flight from Sydney to Heathrow, on Qantas.
I’d requested extra legroom, because I’m very tall and we were economy. We (my Mrs and I) boarded and had the 3 seats over the wing box, so loads of space to stretch out and kip.
Or so we thought.
The flight was short by 1 passenger, so after waiting at the gate for 40 minutes, Jabba the Hutt decides to join us. As soon as the Kent turned right at the door, I knew where he would be sat.
Stows his hand luggage, removes his shirt, trousers, socks, and puts his PJ’s on. The wife and I are chuckling etc.
I’m in the middle of a 3 seat row. 11 seconds after take off, the Mrs is snoring to the right, and Jabba is snoring to the left. I’m in the middle with twin gusts of wheelie bin breath and no escape.
The wonderful flight attendant has clocked this, and she asked me if I’d like a drink.
I had no currency on me, and everything else was in the hold. So I politely declined, with my bottom lip vibrating gently.
About 5 minutes later, the same girl walked past and dropped a bottle of red in my lap and said ‘This one’s on me Dahl’
Her uniform fitted where it touched, and I’ve often wondered whether I blew my chance at joining the mile high club.

ETA

What are your stories of opportunities missed, or fat people interference?
But for the fickle hand of fate, who should you be with?
Possibly a matelot with a moustache after a drunken liaison?
An Air Cadet in a portakabin at Fairford?
A disinterested nurse who stuck a swab up your broken nose in Cyprus?
An Air Vice Marshall who tried to Spock you after the Harvest Festival celebrations in Ludlow in 1996?

Who’s your true love, and why aren’t you with/ in them now?
Any photos of the flight attendants titties?

Asking for myself of course
 
I went to Specsavers when I was in NI, years ago. In I go to the consultation room and an absolutely stunning blond was the optician. She was a little bit older than me and again was absolutely stunning. We went in to another room so that she could do the mechanical bit of the tests and then said that she was going to look in my eyes with the Ophthalmoscope.
Normally I'd had this done in a normal treatment room, lights on, quick glance in to both my eyes, job done. This time, she turned the lights off and was checking my eyes for fecking ages! Every now and again, our cheeks would touch or legs rub together. Mind goes nuts "is this a come on? Should I ask her out? Go on, break the ice, do something" I was absolutely screaming to do something or at least take a chance and ask her out but bottled it.
Had to go back to camp for a couple of cans and a ****. Standard Saturday night back then!
Depending on how long ago that was, the local ASU probably binned her after that for failing to do her job.
 
The one I should have held on to. Got on really well, she was very interested but first time we did the dirty deed, I had to head home at speed afterwards, grab my kit and bugger off for a three month camp in the operational area (NS thing in SA).

No contact with her for three months and it drove me crazy. Found out what it did to her when I got back. Broken TV syndrome - picture but no sound. Didn't want anything to do with me. Refused to speak to me, accept my calls, nothing. She eventually married a bloke who moved to Oz with her and did really well starting his own business. They're both big cheeses in the business now commuting between Oz, the USA and Singapore. I'd say she dodged a bullet. If she'd settled for me she'd be pissed off at home during my long absences while I still work in crappy war zones.
 
I used to have a Albanian dental hygienist. A truly beautiful woman. She was also a real tease, hot minty breath on my cheek, tunic open just a little too much to display the top of her breasts, her hands would linger on my thighs for just a few moments longer than necessary... then in her sultry voice, "Oh you are very hard for me" "OK I'll just slip this in" "Hold this for me so it doesn't get too wet"...
Made my teeth nice and shiny as well!
 
Come on people, rules is rules, pictures or it didn't happen.......
 
Who’s your true love, and why aren’t you with/ in them now?
1635320075208.png


I'm no longer allowed to go within 300m if her.
 

Tool

LE
I was living in Seffrica at the time. A near-neighbour sold their house to a Pom family - he was involved in building Koberg, Seffrica's (only) nucleur power station. I started to associate with her, but was sent to the operational area for seven months. Long-distance relationship by mail. When I came back to civvy street, I was a bit... mental. She was still interested, so the relationship continued. Until I was called up for a 3-month camp (read: TA obligation) a year later. She ended up marrying a mate, and they moved from the area. She had nice tits, good body, pleasant personality, father was a multi-millionaire who bought a wine farm near Cape Town (only found that out MUCH later. Honest...)

I blame National Service for my being poor. Eff you, PW.
 

Latest Threads

Top