My luck with online dating has been varied. I never found a girl worth a second date on Match, hooked up with a surprising lot of women through MySpace, but only found couples wanting me to bang the wife in front of the husband on Adult Friend Finder. I figured I might as well try out Tinder.
Tinder is the most blatant meat market there is when it comes to online dating. Where some of the other services talk about "meet someone special," or "you can make love happen through online dating," Tinder is about little more than hooking up while knowing as little as possible about who you're hooking up with. There is no series of questions to compare your interests to others, just a few pictures for users to either swipe Right to "like," or Left to "pass." That is how you connect through Tinder.
If you're really just out to get laid, and don't want to bother with getting to know people and all that annoying crap that makes life worth living, Tinder can be pretty amazing. Within a week of setting up my account, I was getting dates left and right, with very attractive women. Granted, we never ended up getting to actually know each other outside of the bar or the bedroom. But with 10 million active daily users, it seems there are plenty of women in the dating pool who just want to get laid.
This is how I met Natalia. She was a Colombian goddess: gorgeous body, beautiful hair, amazing smile, pouty lips, captivating eyes, and she stood 6' tall. My greatest fantasies involved women looking like this. Countless nights, I've jerked off to the idea of this very vixen, and now here she was, in the fur.
She was also a complete lush, who wouldn't actually speak an entire sentence until she had downed two shots of Patron. Then she'd go for a while, talking about music and her job, then another drink...and eventually, I noticed her repeating herself, like she had nothing else to say.
We drank until the bar closed, then went back to my place to have more drinks. At this point, I really didn't want to go any farther with this girl, since I didn't feel any real connection beyond sheer animal attraction, which is only barely enough to keep me somewhat aroused. Truth be told, I just wanted to roll in some catnip and go to bed.
But I wasn't going to let her drive home after drinking so much, so I figured we could sit on my roof, drink ourselves into a coma, and then pass out for the night.
Sadly, halfway into a bottle of Jack Daniels, she decided we were fucking. We didn't even kiss; she simply declared, "you're going to fuck me now."
I laughed, assuming this was just her sense of humor. I was actually impressed that she could be so randomly funny, and for the first time that night, I started relaxing, and replied, "no thanks, I'm pretty tired, we should crash..."
But then she pounced on me, and started jamming her tongue into my mouth, and her hands down my pants. With little warning, my pants were off, and she was licking my balls.
Now, look...I'm a man..or maybe that has nothing to do with it, since she barely got me erect before she was putting a condom on me, and climbing on top. And I was kind of shitfaced at this point, so my memory is foggy.
I do remember pushing her off me, and trying to politely tell her that I wasn't interested. But this was followed by her shoving me into my bedroom, where I stumbled and fell onto the footboard of my bed, snapping it off. As I writhed in agony at my injured back, she ripped off our remaining clothes, and the next thing I know, she riding me cowgirl. Hard, sloppy, moaning so loud my neighbors were pounding the walls in hopes of shutting her up.
My orgasm was the most painful ejaculation I've ever experienced, a kind of agonizing, mechanical thrust that was my body's way of shutting down my erection. Once flaccid, she had to leave me alone, right?
No. Even when my cock retreated into my belly, she kept grinding against me, screaming, "get it up! Fuck me harder!" I tried to get out from beneath her, but she had me pinned down, and I couldn't move. She eventually realized I was of no more use to her, at which point she rolled off, lit up a blunt, and turned her back to me.
I rolled over, not really sure what to make of this. All I knew at that point was relief, and I curled up into a ball, and finally passed out.
In the morning she was gone. I never heard from her again; I immediately deleted my Tinder account, ran to Planned Parenthood, and got an STD test.