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At the traffic signal, I got a call from him: ‘My car is behind yours, and if you didn’t mind the arguments, let’s talk for some more time.’ We drove to his apartment for another round of beers. It was the first time I was kissed by a guy and I lost myself in him. I stayed with him for one full day and night, as it was the weekend, and we loved each other up like anything.
There was sex and conversations on the sofa, in the kitchen, in the washroom, on the carpet, and in every possible place in the apartment. The best part was that there was a lot of respect and genuine love, which reflected in our attitude towards each other.
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) Anyway, the guy turned out to be very married, with a very public Facebook profile full of pictures of his wife and kid. And two, I keep him for the Tamil Nadu politics inside stories, the juicy ones that don’t make it to the newspapers. This guy didn’t have a bio but he reminded me of a Dutch-Punjabi guy I knew back home, and I was curious if it was him.
The rest have mostly been passers-by, the ones I match with when they’re in town for a day or swiping from the airport. Some have made it to Whats App, then even to Facebook, but later fallen into that silent black hole of we’re-never-going-to-ever-meet-so-what’s-the-point-of-these-chats. We matched, and he couldn’t stop gushing over this exotic person (me) he had matched with.
I was planning to do a book called , and his body gave me ample inspiration. This was a man I didn’t want to disappoint, so I sent him an ‘Aah’. Like the guy who sexted me something I’d usually find extremely creepy and immediately block.
We moved to Whats App, where I kept asking him for pictures. When things were heating up between us, he sent me a dick pic.Drunk on Old Monk and Coke, we walked back to his place. Like the media guy who took me to a Sangeeta for dinner. My fingers are tired, my brain is tired, my heart is tired. I was jet lagged and woke up at 4 am every morning with nothing to do. Like a noob, I would check everything before I swiped right.(Ok, I’m not a food snob, but who takes someone to an idlydosavada place for a dinner date, that too the very first date? For two reasons: one, I want to see for just how long he plans to lameass flirt with me and pester me for another date before he knows that I know. I imagined the men I right swiped would be at my doorstep, and that was a scary thought. Guy without a bio had little chance of getting swiped right.While he kept writing, I was talking to a Gujarati family about , etc. My first thought was, ‘God has given him such a good looking face, but the penis looks a bit small.’ Suddenly I heard myself. The next morning, I took a screenshot and sent it to the girl bestie. Then we told ourselves: men do this all the time, dismissing women over the size of their body parts. He tried it again, but back in India and sober, I found it extremely meh.This was a penis I was talking about, something that used to be eww for me, especially that of a random man. After all this, I must confess: I’ve never seen a Tinder dick in the flesh. Some of them had turned black around the edges, and yet there was nothing off about them. ‘You have naked woman on your terrace,’ I remember telling him, looking at the gorgeous futuristic paintings.‘I like naked women on my terrace,’ he said, and kissed me. Before he left India he asked me to fly over to his city for a ‘24 hour sex marathon and a weekend of erotic hedonism’. Normal chats got awkward after that and I had to let him go.
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Like my friend Aashna says, ‘No Tinder dick picks could serenade thy vagina.’ ***There’s a beautiful boy I matched with. Maybe if the flights weren’t so expensive, I just might have. Or the guy who almost fell in love with me after just one week of chatting. I had to let him go, but since he was this sensitive-tragic-poet-emowriter type, I had to let him go very gently. thing will keep floating in front of his face whenever I look at him.