By: Gena
Plenty of Fish, POF, is full of interesting men. One can meet anyone from lawyers, doctors, poets, music artists, athletes, neighborhood mediceuticals ( drug dealers) depending on the day. You cast your hook in a never ending stream of horny, manipulative, and not to mention—fine men at times, hoping you’ll be the reason that he deletes his account. If he doesn’t, there’s plenty more, hence the name.
She was a frequent off and on subscriber to POF with a system. It was simple. Get on every 4 months, with new profile pictures, chat with 6-7 men, rally one for a date, give another your number ( just in case the date goes terrible) and hide your profile, until they both dip, you get bored and then– back on the hunt you go. There’s always a curve ball. You’ll occasionally get what you may assume is a classic case of catfish, but who ends up being the one to fulfill the fantasies of your wildest dreams.
In comes a message to her inbox, “Hey beautiful”. Before responding, she checks the profile for the picture first, name, and occupation. (I mean you must have POF standards lol). He was an occupational therapist with a body of a body builder, who had a love for thick women and fitness. Unsure if she would fit his exact type, she responded with, “Why thank you, how are you.” The conversation went on for hours. Sticking to her routine, they exchanged numbers and started texting right away.
“So other than work, what else do you do? “, she said. “I do personal training on the side, as well,” he said. “Interesting, I should’ve known by the looks of things,” she said. “By the looks of things, huh? What else do I look like I do?” he asked. She blushed on the phone, imagining all that she thought he could do. She gave a modest response, “Nothing in particular. I knew it was something in the fitness area. Do you do anything else?” “ I do. From time to time, I’m an exotic dancer for a small company. I perform at small events, like bachelorette parties, etc.” She was non-responsive for a few minutes, contemplating on whether or not she should text back. How can a man be an occupational therapist/ personal trainer and still find the time to strip? It sounded real cat-fishy. He broke her train of thought with a question mark via text. “Oh sorry.. A stripper huh? How does that work with your other jobs? How do you fit it all in?,” she said. “I just do. I don’t work everyday as a stripper, but it’s something I do on the side. Is that a problem for you?”
At that point, she saw this going no where serious, so she thought— “What the hell, why not?” “No, not at all. I respect a side hustle, like anyone else,” she said. “Send me a pic,” he asked. That was random, she thought. Becoming totally suspicious of this factitious stripper character, she responds, “All of my good ones are on POF already LOL.” “ LOL, whatever, “ he said. “Let me be blunt. Your body, everything about you seems odd. Is this truly you?” she said. “Who asks that kind of question? YES. What, have you been catfished or something before LOL?” he said. “ LOL, no I haven’t and I don’t want to start today,” she said. “LOL, well I can only tell you that I’m real” he said. Next, he sends pictures. 6 full body pics, highlighting his beautiful face, big juicy lips, bi-ceps, 6 pack, thigh muscles, basically a sum of her inner erotic thoughts in visual form. “ Wow!” she responded. “If you still don’t believe, come see me tonight and I’ll show you,” he said. “I’m out with friends right now, but I’ll hit you later, if I can,” she said. There was no way in hell she was going!
She continued partying through the night with her girlfriends, high off the music and drunk off cocktail infusions. There was a period, where the dancing became too much and she sat to cool herself down. He texts her. “Having fun with your friends?” She responded, “Yesv I am. Hving so mcuh fun. WDY”, she said. “It’s clear you’ve had a lot to drink, LOL,” he said. She took a second to look at her phone. OMG!, she thought. She held her phone still and concentrated on the grammar. “LOL, sorry I was typing fast. But that to. aha ha” she said. “What are you going to be up to later on? he said. “I don’t know. Nothing planned, why?” she said. “Maybe you can come see me, tonight???” he said. She paused and thought of the last guy from POF. She also thought of the last time that she actually got some. “What the hell, why not?, she thought to herself again. “Maybe I can….” she said. “You’ll come forreal?” he said. “Send me the address” she said.
She hops in her car and wasted no time driving 13 miles north for pleasure. He texted. “Hey, I’m about 30 minutes away, are you heading to me?” “ Yes, about the same away,” she said. Shortly after, she pulls in his parking lot. “Hey I’m here,” she said. She was still drunk with 0 fucks to give and all the will to LIVE. The thought of a one night stand excited her. “I just got in. Give me a sec,” he said. “K,” she said. Hope he’s not planning my death.
35 minutes passed and the buzz began to dwindle down. Nervousness and fear kicked in. She texted, “Umm are you coming out,?” “Where did you park?” he said. “ Near the front,” she said. “Cool, I’m coming out with a parking pass.” 10 minutes later, a body that looked similar to his profile picture, walks towards the passenger side of her car. She unlocks the door. He sat and they looked at one another with lustful eyes. “Hey sexy,” he said. “Hey” she said, nervously. They began to pass conversation until the awkwardness ended. Everything seemed perfect. Her anticipation to sex his beautiful, real body, was building. She was ready to go. He said, “ So you ready to head to my place?”
She lifted her head to turn to say yes, noticing that he took off his hat….. And there it was. 5 perfectly parted, straight back cornrows appeared. Every picture he sent was with short hair. Still tipsy, she asked, “Wait, what happened to your hair ?” “Huh?” he said. “ I thought you had short hair. Where these cornrows come from?” she asked, looking completely confused. He became very aggressive. “What the fuck you mean. I’m dominican. My hair grows quick. What kind of fucking question is that?” “Pause!,” she said. “Lower your tone.” “What kind of question is what happened to my hair, like who asks that?” They drunkenly argued for almost 20 minutes. “Listen, you coming or not. I came out here to give you the parking pass,” he said. “ You talking about some fucking hair!” At that moment, she saw his face turning red and his body flex. She thought to her drunken self, “ OMGEE. This is a sign. He might kill me. I gotta get the fuck out of here!”
He abruptly interrupted her thoughts by asking, “ Look man, are you coming?” She came up with a plan. “Yeah. But can you get out real quick, while I go find a park?” she said. He hands her the pass. She says, “Keep that for a minute.” “How you gon park without the pass though?” he asked. “Can you get out for a minute please?” she said. “TAKE THE PASS,” he screams. “I am, just get out first,” she said calmly. He gets out and slams the door. She backs up out of the park and pulls off! A reflection of him holding up the pass emerges in the rearview mirror. So much for a one night stand, she thought.
Just when she arrives home and heads to bed, he texted her. “Why would you speed off like that?” She responded, “You were doing way too much! And your hair?? Like why would you not send me recent pics?” No response for 30 minutes. She was just finishing giving her bestfriend the updates, and an in comes a picture from him. 8.5 inches appeared on her screen. “You could’ve gotten the best sex of your life tonight,” the caption noted. “Why would you do some shit like this?”
She couldn’t respond. She fawned over the picture, mesmerized by the thickness and length of his manhood. She pictured her body going in all sorts of areas in his apartment. She thought to herself, Damn. Maybe I overreacted….”
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