Showing posts with label online swinging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label online swinging. Show all posts

Thursday, July 9, 2009

A peek at vanilla online dating

I was eating dinner at an outdoor cafe in an affluent neighborhood when I overheard an amusing conversation between a man and a woman who were having their first date after meeting on one of the vanilla dating sites. ("Vanilla" means non-swing, outside the lifestyle.)

Even without hearing what they were saying one could guess it was a first date by the careful way they were dressed; the man's meticulously ironed shirt, the woman's precice makeup. They were smiling a lot an fiddling with their wine glasses.

They talked about where they grew up, went to school, where they worked, how they liked their jobs. Do you have brothers and sisters? Do you have pets?

It struck me how different this was from the conversations I have with men I meet on the swing dating sites I use. On a first date the questions are...... different. Have you ever done a dp? (Double penetration.) Do you like on-prem clubs (where sex is permitted on the premises)? Are your nipples sensitive? Have you ever tried an orgy?

Swingers dress differently on a first date, too. Women tend to wear sexier dresses and higher heels. Men wear clothes that are easy to remove.

On the way home from dinner I got a text from a playmate who had a yen to tie me up and rub ice on my nipples. Yay! Dessert!

Monday, July 6, 2009

Online Swinging

Swingers personals websites are the way most swingers hook up nowadays. Back in the 90's you had to find and subscribe to underground magazines. It was a hassle. First you had to take a naughty photo. Then, have it processed by someone who wouldn't call the vice squad. Mail it in with your wittily phrased advertisement and wait weeks for it to come out in the next issue. Then wait weeks more for replies. Sheesh. It's a wonder anyone got shagged.

But now it's easy. Surf the sites and get immediate gratification. Post today and play tonight if you're lucky!

I'm what's called a Unicorn in the scene (a single female who is bi-comfortable) so I get lots of mail. Therefore I can be selective. It's not always easy to find quality sex despite hundreds of single male swingers out there. You need to sift meticulously to find the gems.

Here's a sample of what's in my box today. First let's look at HungOne, single male, 35. Alongside his profile are 7 pictures. I like it when guys post lots of pictures! How can I decide whether to meet you if all I can see is one fuzzy head shot circa 1996?

HungOne's seven pictures, alas, are all of his cock. A nice cock, I'll grant you, but it leaves me wondering what the rest of him looks like. Don't get me wrong, you can glean a lot of information from one cock shot. Does he shave? (A giant man-bush gets me reaching for my DELETE button fast.) Does he have a good digital camera? Can he achieve an erection? And if there's a woman in the shot with his cock, that tells you that at least one other woman found him appealing enough to fuck.

Next, let's look at SuperFly, single male, 33. Like HungOne, he has a lot of pictures, only one of which is a cock shot. Sadly, the rest of them are of him and his various vehicles. Fat man on a motorcylce, fat man in convertible, fat man on boat. I don't have anything against a man with a few pounds if he has other qualities and skills too. But I find it kinda creepy that this guy feels the need to show me all of his man toys. It's tacky.

The third message in my box is from Bond007, 45, single male. That's a red flag right there. Any guy who thinks he's James Bond is probably delusional. He's got no pictures posted at all, red flag #2. His message says that he's a "powerful" CEO from a Fortune 500 company in town on business for a few days. He is looking for nsa (no strings attached) fun. He's staying at a five star hotel. He is wealthy, "generous" and promises dinner at a nice restaurant where I may order whatever I want.

Can I get a "WTF?" from my sisters in blog land!! I'm hurriedly scanning through my profile to discover how this dipshit got the impression I was a call girl. Nope, nowhere did I write "whore" or any of its synonyms. I have a good mind do accept this guy's profile and go to the hotel. When he opens the door to his five star suite wearing the hotel-provided bathrobe that barely closes over his beer belly, I'll greet him with a supersoaker filled with blue kool-aid.