I’ve been using hook up sites such as Fab Swingers, Swinging Heaven, and once-upon-a-time Adult Friend Finder, since my divorce. Why? Because when it comes to what I’m seeking in a man, mostly it’s a good time and not much else. And by ‘good times’ I mean, predominantly, in bed (or on the stairs, kitchen table…). I’ve been in and out of long-term relationships for the past 20+ years, the average lasting about four years either ending because a partner died (twice) or because of other factors that suggested we were not compatible.
In one case, one ex ultimately turned into my best friend, with whom I often stay as he has a lovely flat on the Kent coast, and our relationship does challenge partners we have had over the 15 years we’ve known each other. They are never quite sure where they stand in the pecking order when it comes to the depth of our feelings for them versus my friend and, unsurprisingly, it’s more often my friend’s girlfriends who have struggled more than any partner I’ve had whom I’m confident are mostly glad to be off the hook when it comes to having to accompany me to the theatre, for example, which they may wish to avoid, when they know that’s an activity that my ex and I enjoy together.
My close friends have remarked that we appear to be in a platonic marriage. But I’ve never tried to slot us in any box for the sake of our relationship making sense to others. It is what is is precisely because we never define it by any traditional standards. At the grand old age of 65 I finally have enough self-awareness and confidence to design my relationships without feeling the need to conform to societal expectations. And perhaps that’s why it has worked so well for over a decade, because we exist as a unit that functions well because we allow ourselves to be completely who we are, with all our flaws, and insecurities and need for space. We’re not racing towards some imaginary goal such as marriage, moving in together, spending the rest of our lives in each other’s pockets.
Which is where finding a man simply for the delights of the flesh becomes necessary if you’re a person, like I am, who enjoys sex. When you have a close male friend, who happens to be very attractive, and emotionally intelligent, it does mean that most of my base line requirements for what constitutes a healthy relationship are fulfilled. All that’s missing from my life is one or more people with whom to have sex, and that’s how my default has become browsing the hook up sites rather than places where one might go if they were to look for anything more serious – singles nights, meetup groups, apps such as Hinge or Bumble.
This past week, having finally returned from travelling for the past couple of months, and with no plans to leave the UK until next year, I decided it was time to renew my profile on Fab (Swingers) and wait for the flood of responses that are inevitable for any single woman who uses the site. I don’t believe I’m more popular than any other single woman on the site – I suspect anyone with a pussy on Fab is inundated by hungry, horny men. And I was soon proved correct.
I edited my usual profile, this time in bullet points, as I know reading is not a strong point of the male users. Back when I was working in PR, I was told that the average reading age of Sun readers (a popular UK tabloid) averaged that of a ten-year-old. I have subsequently pitched my profile at that reading age, or slightly above, because I suspect based on the men’s profiles I read, a reading age of ten is about right. The man I’m looking for doesn’t need to be an intellectual, but he should be creative. In fact, I’ve come to the realisation that academics rarely make great lovers; it’s the guys with jobs that may be highly repetitive whom have the free space in their brain to engage in thinking about erotic scenarios for us to re-enact together. My most creative lovers have usually worked in some sort of trade, rather than a high powered corporate job.
Even so, I made it clear that men who wanted to meet me would be wise if they read my profile in its entirety to save me having to block them. Predictably, I might as well have been yelling in the desert for what good that did for me, as men from as far afield as the Isle of Wight, Scotland and Spain messaged me, hundreds of miles from where I live, mainly to congratulate me on my lovely photos (professionally taken).
My profile read:
