Groundbreaking chat, Tim.Sometimes being hot really is enough.
Me:Hey.
Tim:Saw your profile and couldn’t scroll past without saying hi. You’re absolutely stunning. Looks like we’re not too far from each other—fancy a drink?
I check the time. 6:45 p.m. I consider his offer. Can I be bothered?
I mull it over.
Screw it.
My thumbs fly across the screen.
Me:Sure. Time and place?
Tim:You a member at Ruby Lounge?
It’s on my profile. He knows I am.
Me:Yes.
Tim:I’ll meet you at the bar at nine.
That gives me plenty of time to relax, eat, and get ready. Perfect.
Me:See you then.
Tim:I can’t wait.
I’ve been using KinkApp for a while now, and while I’ve encountered some truly horrendous—not to mention downright insane—men, the good times have definitely outweighed the bad.
At work, I’m career-oriented, composed, corporate Gemma. But after hours? That’s where I really come out to play.
Nighttime is when I let my teeth show.
In bed is where I can truly be myself. Just pure pleasure and power.
I had the wholelong-term relationshipthing with my university boyfriend, Todd, from twenty-two to twenty-nine. After breaking up, I promised myself I’d enjoy every aspect of my life. Particularly sex. We were happy enough, doing the usual couple things that we were raised to believe were the right thing to do.
Ugh.
Don’t even get me started on societal “shoulds.”
Todd was lovely. He had all the right qualities—a promising future as a partner in his father’s law firm in Oxford, which he was groomed to take over. He came from money, had great friends, and an excellent sense of humor. But there was one significant area where he fell short: sex.
He consistently underdelivered in that department.
Communication was never a problem; sex was.
I’m the type who speaks my mind. I’m honest, sometimes to a fault. I’d never fake an orgasm just to please a man or boost his ego—sex is a two-way street. I’m just as entitled to an orgasm as my partner is. It was Todd’s unwillingness to explore new experiences, things that might feel good but aren’t typically discussed among friends, that was the real issue.
He was just so.… beige. Bland. Boring, same old day-in, day-out kind of guy. I couldn’t handle it anymore. So, I broke it off. I sat by as our friends got engaged, teasing us thatYou’re next!and I’d think to myself,This can’t be my future. I can’t do this for the rest of my life. Todd was devastated. People couldn’t understand why sex was so important, but it’s not until you’re having bad sex that you realize how damaging it is to you—mind, body, and soul.
April and Anna were my rock throughout that time. They understood. They’ve always had my back and stood by me through everything, accepting every part of me—noquestions asked. While others might raise their eyebrows at my sex life, Anna and April pour more margaritas and ask for details. They love me for exactly who I am, not who they think I should be.
Hot oil spits and sizzles as I lay the eye fillet in the pan, searing each side to perfection. I spoon the steamed broccoli and carrots onto my plate, then settle in to eat before getting ready for Tim.
I swap my glasses for contacts and wipe away the days makeup, opting to apply a fresh coat. I paint my lips their usual crimson. There’s something about red lipstick. The way it transforms a mouth into a weapon.
