Rating: NNNNN
I never thought seriously about online dating until I recommended it to my ex and she got engaged to the second guy she dated.
I tried the same site she used but didn’t have much luck. Things picked up immediately for me on a more “offbeat” dating site.
I tend to go for the librarian type, intelligent with a wild streak beneath the reserve. “Heather” seemed to fit the bill. She was working on her master’s degree, reasonably attractive and fit. We exchanged mail, then talked on the phone. Lots of the right things were said, jokes were laughed at, so we made a date to meet.
Not long after, another woman started flirting with me online. “Liz” was in an open relationship with another woman but claimed to be bi and into casual sex with boys. I wasn’t that interested. She persisted, mentioning that if I played ball her girlfriend might join us. It all seemed a bit forced, so I didn’t take the bait. I figured Liz was either teasing boys for fun or sleeping with them to annoy her girlfriend.
Then nude photos of Liz started showing up in my in-box. I hadn’t dated in several months and I’m only human. I figured, regardless of what happened, if I saw Liz before I met Heather, it would be past history and irrelevant by my dating rules.
Liz had no problem getting together on short notice, “the sooner the better.” When something seems too good to be true.
We had drinks, and if she really was bi, I guess I wasn’t her type. It was friendly but painfully platonic. She checked out our waitress more than me. The night ended early, and we didn’t bother to discuss seeing each other again.
Not long after, I went on my date with Heather, who seemed genuinely interested. After a couple of hours of sharp banter and cocktails in a College Street lounge, she suggested that I kiss her. Our soulful, tender kiss moved us into “get a room” territory.
Heather said I could take her home as long as we didn’t “go all the way.” I agreed. We spent the night at my place, exploring each other’s bodies for hours. Heather had several orgasms, each stronger and more surprising than the last. Normally, she said, it took weeks or months for her to “relax.” We didn’t go all the way, but it was a spectacular first date. I fell asleep totally blissed out.
Over French toast I made for breakfast, she kept saying how connected she felt and raving about the sex. The next date was discussed in concrete terms. Then she asked if she could check her e-mail. Why not?
Moments after she logged on to my computer, she was out the door. No explanation. No goodbye. “I have to go,” and that was it.
I blinked a few times, wondering why Twilight Zone music wasn’t playing. She didn’t answer her cellphone.
A weird feeling crept into my gut, and I checked my computer. Heather had logged out, but the Web browser history indicated – yes, you guessed it – an e-mail to her from Liz. All I read was the subject line. Not only did they know each other, but what Liz said about me wasn’t very nice.
Something clicked into place. Heather had mentioned several lesbian friends who joke with her about switching teams. One in particular was no longer joking but actively pursuing. All kinds of weird and strange possibilities occurred to me.
Did Heather mention our upcoming meeting to Liz, which made Liz try to lure me on a date? Did Liz hope to get enough personal info to show she’d met me and make up some horrible story, proof that all men are bastards.
I had no idea if this was what happened. I’ll probably never know. I tried to contact Heather a few times, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. At first it really bothered me, because there seemed to be a strong connection.
Then I decided that anyone who would bolt like that without saying anything couldn’t be very balanced.
But, then, I have no idea what Liz told her.
If you’re ever in a similar situation, I’ve learned that it’s best if you don’t let your date check e-mail until he or she gets home.
Gird Ursef is a pseudonym.
love&sex@nowtoronto.com
