I don’t typically online date. Recently, however, I was inspired to reactivate my Tinder account. I’d been seeing an elusive guy that I really liked but felt like I was more into him than he was into me. I needed to get him off my brain. My expectations for the app were little to none. I only wanted to remind myself that there are more guys out there like the one I’d been obsessing over. What I found was even better, a Tinder treasure.
Before I met who I’ll call Kenny, I hadn’t found any promising matches on the app. I was mostly haphazardly swiping left and right in my free time at work. Within the first week I’d yielded an unsolicited dick video, and a couple late night invites to Amazon Prime & chill, which I wasn’t interested in. Still, something about seeing new prospects, potential, and possibilities kept me going back for more swipes.
One night at work I got a message after matching with a tall, dark-haired guy with big, brown eyes. It was a simple, warm, “Hey Ash,” but it was just what the doctor ordered. I liked that even though we hadn’t met yet he abbreviated my name like he knew me. It was nearly 2am so I asked if he was always up late. Turned out we both keep late hours at work. He was unfazed when I told him I’m a stripper. He coolly replied, “So working late is normal for you too. Night owls,” and then changed the subject to my writing. His brownie points were adding up.
It was 3am when Kenny invited me over for a smoke. I told him I preferred to meet him during the day for the first time. “I get that,” he replied, and we said goodnight. Then ten minutes later I got another message. “I kind of wish you’d break a rule with me. You just seem real cool. I’m wide awake.” He suggested I call him to get a better read on his character. Whatever cyber vibes he was putting out I was catching. I FaceTimed him a minute later and felt his warmth immediately. I told him not to try to have sex with me and to send me his address. A half hour later I was in his kitchen sharing leftover UberEATS pasta I brought with me from work. He looked adorable eating my fettuccine while he chatted me up about music and his life on the road as an audio engineer.
Even though I eventually ended up in his bedroom Ken didn’t try to touch me or have sex. Instead we sat on opposite ends of his bed listening to music and talking while watching Discovery Channel images on mute. I stayed for about an hour before calling it a night. He walked me out to my Uber and we decided to make plans soon.
A day later I woke up to a text from my Tinder match. He wanted to grab drinks later that night. I was down. I wanted to see him outside his place and at a more reasonable hour. When we met up at a bar in North Hollywood he was much more lively than when I’d seen him at his house. His eyes were brighter and he was more enthusiastic about the things he was talking about, like the Pilsner beer he introduced me to. After the bar there was a natural progression back to his place.
Our chemistry and sexual tension had built up. We were standing in his kitchen when he finally grabbed me and gave me the softest kisses I’d had in weeks. I held him and kissed him back. Ken picked me up and carried me to his bed. We made out until four words involuntarily slipped from my lips: I wanna fuck you. Without missing a beat he got up, removed his pants, and put on a condom. I came within a minute, I’m sure. But it didn’t end there. We just kept going. And going. His sex totally impressed me. He was selfless and talked to me the whole time.
I left Kenny sound asleep the next morning and went home to work on a blog post. A few hours later I got a text asking if I’d gotten home safely. He added, “Your sex is flames. Like, burning the whole city down flames.” I told him I felt the same way about him. I was on a natural high, basking in my post-sex glow. Then I opened Instagram to find Mr. Elusive posted an insta story. He was on a hike with a bubbly, smiling brunette with a bouncy ponytail. My heart dropped.
I thought about my last couple nights with Kenny and felt better. It was all good. Ken hit my phone again a couple hours later: “No, but really. You’re a gem.” I smiled from ear to ear. The treasure was all mine.