Online Dating During Quarantine Revamped My Sex Life
“So, what kind of porn are you into?” I asked John, 29, who had a cute profile pic but no bio on Tinder. It was my not so subtle invite to engage in some online sex.
I found myself aroused, even as I asked this question. I found that I wanted to know what turned John on even though I didn’t want to know other things, like if he had any siblings. I found it strange most of all, that I had a complete lack of interest in casual sex in the “real world,” yet for the third time since being in quarantine I felt compelled to initiate sex with a man I barely knew.
Pre end-days, I was at a point in my life where I wanted love, but wasn’t dating (or, as I looked at it, engaging in emotionally exhausting charades to discover if a person would make a good future father to my future child.) My reasons were logical; I am living with my parents in a town where I don’t want to live for one second longer than I have to, but for now I have to because I don’t yet have a job that offers enough financial stability to move out. I was perfectly happy going celibate until the life I envisioned for myself seemed within reach.
After all, I am in my 30’s now. That’s not to say I couldn’t have a thriving sex life if I wanted one, but for me promiscuity lost its appeal after my early-to-mid twenty sexual escapades when I realized how many men were shitty partners and shittier lovers, and that I slept with them anyway because my confidence seemingly depended on it.
True that now, as a somewhat functional adult who has learned from past experiences, I have more power over my sexual encounters, but the truth remains that I don’t really want to deal with another weird smelling cock in my mouth, or someone lasting too long for my taste, or coming too quickly to have a satisfactory road to orgasm, or my unwavering fear that I won’t be able to tell if someone is inside of me yet.
Sure, if it’s someone I care deeply for I can be flexible and get excited about the quirkier characteristics of a man’s sexual tendencies, but anyone else, no thank you. Exercising patience was fine with me.
Life during quarantine, however, is different, and by different I mean it makes me want to ravage any Tom, Dick or Harry that shoots a “winky face” emoji in my direction, so I dusted off the old Tinder App and put my best profile pic (a picture of my ass, essentially) forward.
Click here for tips on online dating during quarantine!
I started off local and less picky and matched quickly with some people who were just fine. One of them included a man named Robert, 29 who is “fun, career focused and a little nerdy,” and kept complimenting my ass picture. Soon enough, we both admitted that the conversation had us feeling turned on, and then the nature of our messages took a rather vulgar turn, which I loved, but won’t go into detail.
No matter how intricate the positions were that Robert wanted to put me in the experience was easy, effortless, and fun, and after I finished I put on Bob’s Burger and let him keep going while I puffed on a joint and relaxed.
What followed was, quite simply, nothing much. I had no desire to cuddle, no worries about whether I had “sex” with Robert too soon and that he might lose interest. I wasn’t worried about whether I had contracted an STD, or whether I was accidentally pregnant. I didn’t feel like I had made a bad decision. It was what it was and for now it was over. It felt freeing.
I continued to swipe for days to come. Mostly dead-ends, conversation petering out quickly. I became pickier about whom I was swiping right for so as not to overwhelm my inbox, because apparently I’m not the only single person in quarantine who’s desperate to satisfy an insatiable appetite for sex.
Some people initiated right away or too abruptly and I wasn’t interested so I simply ignored them and moved on. No harm, no foul.
Garett, 34, was looking for “friendship, fun and good conversation” and I was excited when we matched. He’s in a polyamorous relationship and I’ll be honest, the lack of full availability was exciting. (I’m an imperfect human woman, okay?) We had great flirtatious chemistry keeping things interesting and his open and honest approach to conversation connected us on a deeper level.
I have a crush on Garett, which in “real life” would be absolutely terrifying; not only because my lack of stability prohibits me from moving forward, but also because he’s polyamorous and I don’t know much about polyamory. I only know that I am a highly jealous and possessive imperfect human woman who is now learning a lot about polyamory from a safe distance.
Click here to learn what I’ve learned so far about polyamory
I was taken aback after our first time sexting because apparently my brain released a healthy dose of oxytocin as I reached my peak and I felt a surge of deep connectedness to the person on the other side of my little, handheld device.
It was a bittersweet reminder of what intimacy could bring. I was able to keep my head on straight, though. I wasn’t disappointed that Garett had his own life (and girlfriend) to tend to. I didn’t feel the need to text him compulsively. I was able to feel joy and fulfillment unattached to expectations.
In fact, it wasn’t long before I hopped back on Tinder and continued to swipe to my hearts content, until I matched with handsome-profile-pic John. John and I didn’t get to know each other as well as Garett and I, but I appreciated his bluntness when he told me pretty quickly that his single life in quarantine mostly consisted of “porn, pasta and procrastination,” and I inquired further about his porn habits. He was quite ecstatic to transition from his solo ritual to simulated partnered sex with me. I was happy that he felt happy about it.
I’m not sure why my sex drive seems to have skyrocketed through the roof. Maybe the need for sensual human connection has increased due to deprivation of innocent touches by friends or strangers in a crowded bar. Maybe lack of mental stimulation is manifesting into lack of sexual stimulation.
Maybe I am relieved that I can immerse myself in sexual situations without having to deal with a smelly cock, or the fallout of a crush gone wrong. I can enjoy fantasizing about circumstances that might be undesirable in real life.
I’m thrilled to get an unadulterated glimpse of the differing ways that men delight in sex, the various things that turn them on, what they like to see and feel and taste; and in turn, discovering more of what turns me on, and what I like to see and feel and taste- before being nakedly splayed out on the bed of a man I barely know.
Most of all, I like that I can still relish in a sexual appetite, even without the promise of a future because as it turns out, the future is never promised.
