I joined my first online dating site one year ago as a lark more than anything else. Some of my friend’s were doing it, so I thought “why not”. I have to admit, it felt nice having countless men write to me each day telling me I was pretty, even if they were 65 and creepy. The bad thing about Lava Life is that you have to pay a fee if you want to actually message other people. The very first Diary entry I wrote was actually about the one guy I met on that site. He was the one where our third date included me handcuffed in my panties to his desk chair. Hot.
After him I joined Plenty of Fish. I liked it better because, well, it was free. It’s fun too because you can see who viewed you, or if you like someone’s profile, you can see other users similar to him or her. Last time I wrote to you Diary (which I know, was a while ago), I had just met a new POF guy, who I thought might be Mr. Right…. boy, was I way off base.
We had three amazing dates in a row, and he acted as if I was perfect and could do no wrong. He certainly changed his mind on our fourth date. The guy works at an after-hours club, so he told me to come meet him around 2 on the Saturday night. When I show up, I am shlammered (ya, it’s a word), and not only that, but I’ve completely lost my voice. I don’t remember much from the bar, other than him seeming annoyed. We leave around 3, and he buys me a hotdog, probably in hopes of sobering me up. When we get in the cab to go back to his place, he starts telling me how I embarrassed him at work. I am not so crazy about this scolding, so I refuse to finish my street meat, which annoys him more… especially when we get back to his place and I toss it on his kitchen counter. He is now raising his voice, and I start to cry. I know, I know, never let them see you cry.
He tells me to go to sleep. A few minutes later my phone beeps, as I get a text message. Now he starts yelling. “Turn that fucking thing off right now, I’m exhausted!” By this point I can barely utter a whisper (turns out I had laryngitis), and I try and say “But I have to go to an engagement party tomorrow, so I need to set my alarm.” This pisses him off even more, and he turns off my phone then sets his own alarm. In the morning he says “Make sure you don’t leave anything.” What a sweetheart.
Then next day over msn, after I apologize for whatever it was I did that made him hate me so much. He says that I’ve “blown it.” Luckily, Goldilocks, my f-buddy, texts literally a few minutes later asking me to come over.
The morning after my stress relieving romp in the sack, I send The Ass a text, because I had left my belt at his place, despite his request that I not forget anything. Oops. Diary, can you guess what his response to my more than sweet text was? “wtf?! this is so not my problem.” Having to see him again just wasn’t worth my very versatile snap button Club Monaco belt. Sigh.
Thinking that meaningless sex with my blond male-friend was the best route for the next little while, I had once again given up on finding a boyfriend… until the 36 year old who’d been writing to me on Plenty of Fish started to seem more interesting than I’d first given him credit for. A couple of days later, The Older Guy and I decided to talk on the phone. After 5 hours of chatting we make a plan to meet in person the following evening.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday… we kept hanging out. At first I was a bit nervous, because the new older guy told me that a couple of years ago he had been Baptized, and was now a practicing Catholic. Did this mean I wasn’t going to be getting any sex?! After the third date we went back to his place to “watch a movie”. We were soon both naked. “Should we be doing this?” I asked, “I thought you loved Jesus?”
Can I just say – BEST oral I have ever received. Jesus was there with us that night, and he clearly lives in the new guy’s tongue.