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The Cosmic Curveball
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The Cosmic Curveball Sometimes, the universe throws a real curveball at you, just to make sure you’re really paying attention. After sending emails to a number of interesting ladies and a few couples on here for about a week, I finally got a non-automated response. I was starting to wonder if, in my one year hiatus from passion, all of the real women had moved on to Fuckbook or some other new internet dating site. Apparently, I had forgotten that on this site men looking for women outnumber women looking for anything about ten to one. “T” was just what I was hoping for – age appropriate, could write a text/email/IM with a great deal of intelligence, and had a naughty, open-minded streak from an experienced swinger past that just wouldn’t quit. We had a lot in common, it seemed. Eventually, we settled on meeting for the first time on Saturday of Labor Day weekend. We were going to attend the Ribfest America show in downtown Indianapolis together. For five days we had a blast communicating with each other, and when I finally spoke with her on the phone, I was so turned on by that voice that I begged her to let me drive the 60 miles up to her place to meet her, long before Saturday night. Somehow, we did wait, though. “T” tried to downplay my expectations by telling me she looked more like Mila Kunis’ mother than Mila herself. But in telling me that, she put on display that sense of humor that I found so intoxicating. Her warning barely registered. My second clue should have been her profile pictures. Other than the first one, which showed only her sexy cleavage, I was unimpressed. Still, I rationalized this away by telling myself how often pictures do not do people justice. After all, I have been told that myself many times: my “poor clueless bastard” stare and goofball grin rarely translate into a picture that makes the girls swoon. And even if she looked exactly like what she did in her photos, I was sure that when I met her in person the spark would be there. Maybe it was just something that rarely comes across in a picture: a twinkle in her eye, a mischievous smirk, the way she walked or told a joke. Something. But there wasn’t. I knew it almost immediately, but I lived in denial for the first two hours of the date, sure that I had missed something. After I had accepted the fact, I spent the next hour trying to figure out what I should do about it. I met this lady on a swinger’s sex site, so would I have to turn in my red-blooded swinger man card if I told her I didn’t feel it, and I was going home without “putting out”? My time with Ms. Lawless taught me that the woman in the swinger’s world always has the right to say “no” for any reason. Did I have that same right? I honestly wasn't sure. In the end, I went down the path I am always most comfortable with: honesty. I told “T” that I just didn’t feel it with her. She let me off the hook by telling me she didn’t feel it either. Of course, the other way to look at it was that she just gave me the verbal equivalent of a slap in the face. Regarding the proper male swinger etiquette, I’m still not sure I did the right thing. But one thing I am sure of: I didn’t see THAT coming at all. Thanks for being such a good sport about it, “T”! Love, Your Shy, Swinging, Friendly Neighborhood SensitivePerv  |
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