The next 3 posts are not fun sex stories, but it’s important to me to write about the bad, along with the good, even though remembering it really sucks.
In the fall, I started talking to Ryan. He was tall, cute, 26, great job, owned his own house, funny , smart, confident, flirty, sweet, all the things I look for. We had really great conversations, and then he just disappeared. He didn’t respond to my messages, and he deleted his profile from POF. Oh well. We had only chatted for a week or so, maybe a bit longer. It’s not like I had fallen in love.
He messaged me again at the end of November, beginning of December. He had a new profile on pof and asked if I remembered him. Obviously. I asked what the fuck happened to him and why he dropped off the face of the earth. He told me his work sent him to Edmonton or Calgary (I don’t remember) for a couple of months. He worked in IT. He apologized for disappearing and said he didn’t think it was fair to start anything with someone when he was going to be gone for so long. I accepted his apology and told him not to do it again, to just let me know if something happened in his life. My plan was to keep it casual with him though, a guy who does that doesn’t get anything more than sex with me. So we flirted and would send sexy messages. We were flirting the first night the 20 year old came over. Actually, when lil Jon showed up and rang my doorbell, I didn’t get up to answer it because I was talking with Ryan and had just invited him to come over. By this time Ryan and I had been chatting for just over a week. His response was that he didn’t want this just to be about sex. He wanted to actually get to know me and take me on a date before anything physical happened. Aww. I told him that was really sweet and I was ok with that. And then I got up to let the 20 year old in.
Ryan and I kept having great conversations. My plan to keep things casual was failing with every conversation we had. He was winning me over with his charm. We had set up a date for a Friday night. I had other plans that evening also, so the plan was him to pick me up when I was finished and we’d go grab a late drink. Our last contact was around 5pm that day and he told me how much he was looking forward to finally meeting me in person and to just message when I was done and he’d come get me. I messaged him about 9 to let him know I was on my way home to freshen up and would be ready by 930ish. No response. I get home and get ready, still nothing so I message again. Nothing. I washed off the makeup I’d put on and took my carefully selected dress off and hung it back in the closet. I’d been stood up. And wouldn’t you know it, his pof profile was deleted again. If you’re keeping track, the same man stood me up the same way 2 times. 2 times! I was sad about it. The little fucker made me feel feelings I hadn’t wanted to feel, and then abandoned me without a word.
Jump to January a few weeks later and he messaged me again! This time, he started the conversation with “Hi, remember me you dirty girl?” “Oh, is this the Ryan who stood me up and disappeared for the second time? Yeah, I remember you.” “I used you like the slut you are. I still have all the pics you sent me, great jerk off material.” “Why are you being a jerk now?” “Because that’s what you want.” “No, it isn’t.” “To be treated like a filthy slut. You like it, admit it.” It was at this point that I blocked him and cried a little. I didn’t and still don’t understand why he was so sweet before, and then decided it was ok to speak to me like that. Asshole. Oh, if you’re wondering what kind of pictures I sent him, well, I look pretty sexy in lingerie. I have never sent a picture that I would be embarrassed by if it was not kept private. I’d be pissed for sure, but not embarrassed.