Kimberly, Part 2

Visiting Kimberly

Fast forward to the year 2016, the year that I suddenly started traveling on a regular basis for work. Traveling for work is something I love, and I was getting my desire:

• A couple of weeks in a different province, during which I exchanged messages with the “Too Good to be True” woman and the “Orgy Woman.”
• A week in Chicago, during which I exchanged naughty photos with “juliagarwood.”
• A long stint during which I traveled out of the country every week, during which I messaged a lot with “Sheer.”

During the course of this, I was asked to fly to a particular city for a day, to attend a workshop as a subject matter expert. I was already in the air, on my way there, when it suddenly occurred to me: “Wait a second, Kimberly lives there! I should contact her and see if she’s around!” Based on previous interactions with her this was a long shot: she’d barely responded to previous emails, if she responded at all, what were the chances that she’d even see my message in time, let alone respond to it? Let alone within the tight timelines I had in the city: Arriving 7PM Wednesday night, meeting with the client 9-12 Thursday morning, flight out leaving at 5PM Thursday afternoon. That leaves, what, a couple of hours Thursday afternoon after my meeting? Yeah, right.

It did give me an excuse to message my local blogging friend, though, just to say, “Hey, I just realized that I’m in the same city as Kimberly – I’m going to message her!” And then, once we started talking, I could spend the next little while flirting with her. I’m sneaky like that¹¹.

To my surprise, however, Kimberly did see my email, she did respond to it, and we could work out time to see each other Thursday afternoon after my meeting. Holy shit!

Lunch

I showed up wearing my favourite suit – well cut, nice conservative colours, understated style – so I was feeling pretty good about myself. Remember, I wasn’t planning to fuck this woman – ever – I prefer our relationship to remain platonic – but it never hurts to look sexy when you’re going to spend lunch talking to a sexy woman about sex¹². And she looked as good as I remembered; five years had gone by but she hadn’t aged a day. I mentioned this to her, and it came out sounding like a line; she definitely took it as a line.

She was also wearing a top which showed off her great cleavage – more on this later¹³.

It was at this lunch that I learned how bad Kimberly’s relationship had been with her abusive boyfriend, and why my views of her being a “needy” woman who’d only email if she needed something were way off base. I didn’t feel guilty about it, I’d made my assumptions based on the information I had at the time (and of course I never told her that I viewed her in that light), but I would have preferred not to have had that erroneous view of her. She was suffering while I was thinking she was a flake. Perhaps I could have – should have – been a better friend to her, at the time. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to, even if I’d tried, since her boyfriend was trying to get her to cut ties. Maybe this, maybe that.

It was at this lunch that I learned they have something called a “swingers’ cruise,” where a bunch of swingers get on a cruise ship and fuck each other’s brains out for a few days on the high seas. Kimberly had gone to one with a boyfriend – might have been the one after her abuser, might have been the one after that; she only had a few long-term relationships, but I didn’t manage to get the story completely straight¹⁴ – and of course, given her previous experiences at the sex clubs, she thoroughly enjoyed herself. She indicated that she’d probably do that type of thing again, though she’d prefer to go to a swingers’ club in some sunny destination (like Temptation Resort in Cancun), instead of another cruise.

It was at this lunch that I learned that Kimberly was currently in a monogamous relationship with a guy, had been for a while, and was happy and content with the situation. In fact, she told me, when she is in a good relationship she always stays monogamous with the guy – with the exception of guys that are into swinging, in which case they’ll engage in the lifestyle, which isn’t considered cheating by swingers. The current guy wasn’t into swinging, but she was still staying monogamous with him.

We talked about that for a while: after her husband she’d been in a couple of relationships that lasted about a year and a half, and she’d been fine with that, not feeling any temptation to stray. But she honestly wasn’t sure what that meant: Did it mean that she is fine being in a monogamous relationship when the relationship is good? Or did it mean that she simply hadn’t reached her “cut-off point” yet? (i.e. maybe after two years she’d start to get bored and crave random strange, but at a year and a half she hadn’t reached that limit yet?)

She made me laugh when she told me that her current boyfriend was tired of receiving photos from her past; could she not just take photos specifically for him? We commiserated on the fact that it’s so difficult to take good photos, which is why it was so much easier for her to send existing ones to him. (She took this opportunity to pull out her phone and show me some, including one with her riding crop – more on this in a minute, there’s a story – and one of her in the bathtub, with a pair of porn-quality breasts just begging for me to reach out and touch them¹⁵. If I was slightly more perverted I would have asked her for a copy of it, but I didn’t. Which, in retrospect, was a missed opportunity, because I’m pretty sure she’d have sent it to me¹⁶.)

It was at this lunch that she told me about a random afternoon she’d spent with a stranger in a hotel. She’d met him online, been somewhat physically attracted initially, and then realized that no, she wasn’t interested in having actual conversations with the guy, so she wouldn't want to see him on an ongoing basis. But that provided a unique opportunity: given that she didn’t want to see him on an ongoing basis, it meant that she could meet him in a hotel for a one-time-only bout of raw, uninhibited sex. The kind of sex that would make you not want to look that person in the eye the next day. And, since she wasn’t going to see him the next day, it could be perfect. So she showed up to the hotel in her schoolgirl uniform, riding crop and toys in hand, and had the kind of raunchy sex that you normally only see in porn.

Highlights:

• She’s lying in bed with him, resting between sessions, covered in lube and cum, and he tells her she’s an angel. She responds with “‘Angel’?!? That’s the word you want to use right now, after what we’ve been doing to each other?!?”
• He wanted to pay his share for the hotel, so on his way out he left some cash on the side table. Because, hey, if you’re going to have dirty, raunchy, disgusting sex with someone, you might as well have him leave some money on the table afterwards, just to complete the picture and feel like a total whore! She was so impressed with this that she took the aforementioned picture of the riding crop, along with a photo of a mostly empty bottle of scotch used as a paperweight to hold down the fan of twenty dollar bills, with bottles of lube and other toys scattered around in the background. I was proud of her. (Not sarcasm. Kimberly knows what she wants and she goes after it, and doesn’t let shame get in the way. If there was a Chinese symbol which could summarize that sentiment concisely, I’d get it tattooed on my ass¹⁷.)
• Since she was already feeling sexually used and abused – or, to put it another way, satiated – she figured she might as well own it, so she didn’t clean herself up too much when she went down to the front desk to check out¹⁸.
• It was at this point that she got into an argument with the girl at the front desk who tried to charge her for two nights of parking instead of one. “But I’ve only been here for five hours!” she exclaimed, her general attire and the short duration of time making it quite clear what she’d spent that five hours doing, when the manager came over and, in the subtle way only hotel managers can, reminded her that there was also parking for “her gentleman friend.” They were clearly assuming she was a hooker, and she wasn’t too far from feeling like a hooker herself. Again: in a good way¹⁹.

Tinder

It was also at this lunch that she suggested I try Tinder, which I had been staying away from. Everything I knew about Tinder suggested that it’s based on photos, and the last thing a married guy wants to do is put his photos out there on a dating app. The flip side is that Tinder is obviously about hooking up, people don’t even try to pretend it’s anything else, so it would kind of work for my purposes if I could make it clear that I was married. A girl who is D-T-F and doesn’t care about my marital state could simply have me²⁰.

She told me that she’d met married guys from Tinder, and they simply put up photos that didn’t include their faces – problem solved! (I do the same thing on A-M.) Better still, it’s based on location, so if I’m traveling I could look for girls in my area. It was starting to sound like the holy grail for a married man looking for strange, so when I got to the airport I downloaded it to my phone, just to check it out. Unfortunately, the first thing I found out about the app is that it’s intrinsically tied to one’s Facebook account; you can’t log in if you don’t have Facebook, but who doesn’t have Facebook these days²¹? More importantly, it means that there’s going to be an ever present danger of two worlds colliding: If you’re a married man who uses Tinder, and Facebook changes their privacy settings – they have a nasty habit of doing that from time to time – isn’t there a danger of something Tinder-related showing up in your feed, for all to see? Including your spouse, and all of her friends, and her relatives, and your relatives, and … ? Thinking of privacy going the other way, if you upload photos to Facebook, isn’t there a danger of those photos showing up in your Tinder profile, so all the world can see your face on your profile where you’ve made it obvious that you’re a married dude looking for strange? Does this mean that Tinder is showing your actual, real name to people who view your profile???

I did some research on creating a Tinder account without Facebook, and everything I read indicated that it’s not possible. So I emailed Kimberly to let her know that Tinder was a non-starter for me, and she promised to get back to her married friends and ask them how they overcame this problem. And yes, the answer is obvious: They created fake Facebook accounts. Duh.

Footnotes

• ¹¹ She loves it. ↺
• ¹² Did I mention sex? Because… sex. ↺
• ¹³ It’s not important to the plot, but it’s the type of thing I like to dwell on. ↺
• ¹⁴ Not her fault, I just have a bad memory. ↺
• ¹⁵ With my mouth. ↺
• ¹⁶ Have I mentioned that she’s awesome? ↺
• ¹⁷ Why a Chinese symbol? Two reasons: 1) If I were to get a tattoo on my ass, I wouldn’t want a paragraph of English text, so it would have to be a language which could summarize the complex topic in one or two concise symbols or ideograms, and 2) If anyone were ever to ask – especially my wife – I could lie about what it means, and tell them that it’s the symbol for, I don’t know, peace or something. ↺
• ¹⁸ I should have probably told her: You don’t have to check out of hotels at all. Just leave the key card in the room and leave. ↺
• ¹⁹ If I were a better writer I’d be able to say this in a more subtle way, instead of just saying “in a good way” over and over and over again. ↺
• ²⁰ That’s how it works, right? They’re all there just waiting for me… right? ↺
• ²¹ Answer to rhetorical question: I don’t have a Facebook account that I’d want tied directly to my adultery. ↺