Are you Dominant, Submissive or a Switch? (part 1)
It started last Friday. Meeting a guy called K. Totally not my type, totally into motorcycles and a ring through his under lip. But, I assume you know this feeling, this weird feeling in your tummy that you do not want to go to the date? I always have it when the guy doesn’t fit in my picture perfect and I guess i am afraid I still might like the guy. The chat on tinder started quite funny. His first text was “You are everything I am not looking for in a girl!” And off course I got triggered. So I asked him what he was looking for: “a girl in a short skirt and long jacket who is sexy as fuck”. “So basically what you are saying is that you want to get laid?” Yes he was. Surprisingly I got the question in return. So I explained him that I am looking for a regular fuck who does not treat me as a porn doll with three holes. For him it sounded fair enough, so we decided to exchange numbers, go on what’s app and set a date for after New Years Eve. The chat was a bit weird as well. He send a picture of his mouth and asked for one in return. Fine, done. Then he asked me to send a picture of me trying to kiss my breast and I told him to f*ck off. So well, we met at a terrace so at least I could smoke under a heater instead of in the freaking cold. We arrived exactly on the same time. He not so easy to recognize in the dark, in leather jacket, low waist jeans and motorcycle gloves. Not too sexy it seemed. We ordered beers, found out that the music inside was horrible and we sat down outside. We started chatting and quite quickly he started talking about his fetishes. He was into bondage, plastic wrapping and something I did not hear clearly. Off course I tried to react very naturally as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be into fetish stuff. He noticed my eyebrows going up at hearing the term “plastic wrapping” so he explained: “it is like household foil but then black that is wrapped around you very tightly. You experience a lack of oxygen in your skin and then when you cut it open it feels like a relieve.” Ok, I did learned something new that day.
So he was curious whether I was a dike or a bi-sexual and I should have some fetish according to his opinion. Well I kind of try to explain that not one thing was the case, but he did not seem to believe me. Then he started asking ‘sizes’. Which bra cup, jeans size, why I only had nail polish on my thumbs, and so on. Second beer. He talked very passionately about his work, repairing all kinds of motorcycles. The most intriguing for him were the Japanese motors, created by very little hands, giving him a problem with his big hands. It got too cold so we decided to walk to another place and go inside. I ordered another beer, he checked out my butt with his hand. He shared he was a loner, did not like the holidays, so he drank too much wiskey on NYE to make sure he passed out. Bureaucracy was the thing he hated most and he loved to photograph his “bondages”, his skulls, and whatever has something to do with his fetishes. He asked for my opinion on a picture he took and I gave it very honest. He was extremely surprised I was that direct. Suddenly he started smiling, making him quite sexy for a moment. So I asked him, why not pretend to be some kind of “50-shades-of-grey-kind-of-guy” at Tinder? He already did. Woman with very high positions came to him, but they were too submissive according to his taste. “Are you dominant or submissive or a switch?” he asked. I told him, I guess the latter. He did not like threesomes, preferred one on one, shared he was a doom thinker, sometimes depressed, so he started working out again for creating a higher dopamine level (sounds familiar). So I asked him “Why Tinder? There are so many other apps for the people who are into fetish and bondage?” Well, he was looking for more diverse people, did not live in Amsterdam for that long, and he liked getting to know new people.
Next to us a very unattractive couple started kissing. He almost vomited by disgust as according to his opinion the woman was not “f*ckable” at all. Same for the guy by the way. So I went to the WC, I felt his eyes going over my body. Tampon needed to be changed very quickly. Too late, oops. Two more beers, more chatting about the place where he lives and photography of nude girls on motorbikes. He got two more beers, touched me while sitting down again. Then the final question came off course “What are we going to do? Your place, my place or are we just going to get extremely drunk?” “Nothing is going to happen, I am in my period,” I replied. “So well, ok, we just wanted to check each other out, see if there is a click, fine, I do have to check whether you are a good kisser, before you smoke another cigarette!” So that is what we did, when we got outside. Then I smoked another cigarette, we walked back to our bikes, we kissed again, without people watching this time, – great kisser by the way – I waved him a kiss, and biked away.