The dust has settled on my inbox and my head has stopped spinning even though 200 ‘smiles’ and messages need answering. The Drummer can’t stop laughing at the encyclopaedia of dick pictures I have been sent — sweet revenge was gained by showing him images from females’ and couples’ responses filled with bulging, squeezed-together mammaries that look ready to burst through the computer monitor.
I’m more optimistic now some gems have revealed themselves in the rough.
Two bisexual men with whom I’ve exchanged a couple of e-mails come across as relaxed, mature and — importantly — comfortable with each other. They’re allowing me to step forward and take the lead at my pace. They have done this dance before. My curiosity is piqued.
A younger man purporting to be a police officer responded to my pre-occupation with men in uniform. It’s hard to tell if he’s telling the truth because his photo features nothing but a gloriously bare body and a camera flash. He could have pinned his badge to his chest. A devil-may-care attitude came across in his brief introduction and I will respond tonight. There’s an appealing energy about him.
Many couples’ profiles are filled with off-putting demands typed in capital letters and littered with exclamation points, such as the man can touch but cannot penetrate the second female, or only the women can play together. Boundaries are expected and respected but lists of rules become too much work. However, a local couple with enthusiasm for most scenarios sent a smile and we have exchanged some encouraging messages.
Deciding if a response strikes a yes, no or not sure reaction has come down to the inner voice. How do I feel after I’ve read a response and profile? Some information shouts ‘no’ immediately such as being in a different state or country, wordy responses of boilerplate text sent en masse like a net thrown by a fishing trawler, ads by couples that display the female like a trophy and omit information about the male, and not reading what I’ve written (massage my ego, please).
Photos are important but not vital, I’ve found — I haven’t seen what the bi men look like as I am enjoying our e-mail jousting. They will probably want me to ask for pictures as the next step of our dance. Re-used wedding photos are disconcerting, as are drunken party shots with faces blacked out or concealed with sunglasses and baseball caps. I’m not going fishing with you so put down the rod and trout that’s bigger than your head. Unless a penis glows in the dark or sports an interesting tattoo, I don’t need a photo right now. And I really don’t need half a dozen photos.
Must go, more dick pics to view.