I was still swiping on Tinder and to be honest, it's not great for the old headspace. So I decided to delete it - finally. But right before I did, I swiped right on this good looking, tall guy. We exchanged gram names and then Tinder was gone, poof, see ya!
He was Australian, working as a corporal for the Australian government in Iraq. He clearly had family issues (red flag) but cared very much about his younger brother (cute). Owned a motorbike which he loved dearly and had one big cock on him (yum).
He was due in to the Oasis in 6 weeks time and talked about taking me on a proper date followed by a night of good sex. I won't lie, I was keen. There was a lot of sexual attraction between us, the conversation was good and he sent pictures and then... He. Sent. Pictures.
He just made me super horny. He was big and always had free time in the afternoon which meant I'd get a series of videos, photos, detailed texts sharing what was going through his mind. It's a different level of feeling wanted and I reciprocated the feeling. I honestly wonder if you even fancy someone when your fanny flutters take over, and your pussy makes the decisions rather than your normally very straight thinking, honest brain.
I didn't come up with that, it's totally Maura from Love Island 2019's phrase, but the girl couldn't have nailed it on the head better. Well you know... the nailing on the head probably comes after the fanny flutters.
When a girl is craving attention and there's a boy on the end of a phone, it's almost like you let your standards go and thank god that Instagram has a one time show of a photo and then it disappears (just like the Snapchat) but you can still stalk all the photos of them too. Obviously you hope that they don't screenshot that shit. But he did. I asked him to delete it but you never really know if they do.
Sexting is a dangerous game when 1) it's with someone you're not serious with and 2) you've never fucking met them. It's the thrill that you chase and the thoughts that go round in your mind of what could happen. Oh the imagination is a wonderful thing, either there's pure magic or you overthink like a crazy person. Completely 100% human nature right there.
Whilst the temptation to rock up in a gorgeous dress and go for drinks with the Corporal before he took me back to his hotel room to fuck my brains out was tempting. I completely backed out. I 100% know he wasn't a catfish but my safety is important and there is just something about it that makes me feel insecure and not in the mental way. In a physical way, my being. You get me.
I feel like its degrading and the lack of standards really doesn't sit well with me. And it's the same feeling you get as a one night stand. It just isn't as satisfying as having someone who would read the whole book rather than just a chapter or maybe only one page. Sexting was not on my cards anymore, I wasn't game for playing.
Needless to say he was bummed about it, especially as he talked about whisking me off to Berlin for a few days too and making a proper trip. I've done spontaneous shit but this is beyond me. Not with someone I had never met.
I was bummed too.... that I was missing out on another big cock. But you know what, you can't have them all. Otherwise you'll turn into a bucket. Now that's a disgusting image. (No judgement to those who have buckets).
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