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“I’m just going to slip into something more comfortable,” she said, as she thrust a pink toothbrush into my hand and ushered me towards the bathroom.It’s been more than three years since I’ve been on a proper date but two days since I’ve signed up for an internet dating site.Eleven messages later and I’m in the flat of a girl who I’ve only known for three-and-a-half hours.

In the UK alone, 17% of recently married couples met online and 69% of first dates came from online encounters.Around 15m people are registered to dating sites and some of those sites make no bones about the fact they serve solely as a conduit for people to meet for sex.In the 2012 i Date industry awards, many of the winning sites were hook-up services. As most men now work an average 20% more hours a week than seven years ago many simply don't have time for the old routine of catching eyes, buying drinks, offering dinner, then maybe, just maybe, getting a girl back. According to , women over 26 wait an average of three to four dates – or three weeks – to sleep with a man.Using the same 21-day period, I’m going to enlist the internet to speed up the process.I want to know how this £2bn industry has moved the goalposts and whether it is easier for a man like me to score. Within only a couple of hours, Kelly opens up to me more than many of my ex-girlfriends.

But as I upload my first picture, it feels as though I’m giving a terabyte of myself away. With more than 150m members, it’s been tagged as “the world’s most successful hook-up service” and is the biggest paid-for social networking site on the planet. She tells me all about how her family moved around to avoid the tax man.

This is digital sex and I’m from an analogue world; I'm worried I’ll get nothing back. Within 30 minutes of signing up, I receive a message from Kelly, 35, north London. She also explains that she's using dating sites to find someone normal.

We’ve missed the last train and it’s time to go home. I brush for longer than would ever be necessary and purposefully exit the bathroom.

Without any hesitation she invites me back to hers. There’s been no physical contact, no discernible come-ons and not even a great deal of eye contact. What I’m confronted with isn’t the corset-cum-basque I was expecting.

I wonder whether I’ve missed the signs or whether Badoo has changed them. An ill-fitting pair of baggy zebra-print flannelette pyjama bottoms is teamed with the hoody of a heavily set ex-boyfriend.

She has, indeed, slipped into something more comfortable.