Dating in the nether

When Max suggested that I join the same dating site as he is currently on, little did we realise how inundated with messages my inbox was going to become.  There could be any number of factors at play here – the site is free to register, log in, contact and exchange messages with other members – so possibly the pool is larger, there are search engine categories which can pinpoint exactly those members you want to meet and there are a whole lot of questions which you can go through if you want to be sure that who you’re contacting will not wildly clash with your sensibilities – so for example the Ukip-per should be able to find out that the pale redhead he rather has the hots for might in fact hail from Brazil, and regretfully, swipe left.

The messages I get range from the directly prurient – Hey Amy, you wanna have sex with me in my house today? – to the more considerate and refined, from men who are discerning enough to realise that I have more to offer than just “intimate encounters” (that phrase so popular with our American cousins, only now trickling across the pond) and who are looking for a similar relationship to me – one that is open and honest, non-monogamous and possibly long-term.

It has been a learning curve this dating malarkey – I’ve discovered a slutty side to me, one which rather enjoys all the salacious attention of the opposite sex.  I have dated a total of 12 men in the last 2 weeks, 5 of whom I’ve bedded.  These are in addition to Max, Darren and Jan (yep, Jan who broke my heart a little but was forgiven and returned to Amy’s fold).

I met up midweek with Max for a drink and a show and post theatre nibbles when he rather sagaciously observed that my impending big 50 (next year) might have something to do with my suddenly rampant sex life getting a turbo boost lately. How true is this?  It’s possibly Max’s fault also because when we had that discussion about how many people we’d slept with I realised what a modest number mine was compared to his.  Could it be that I am merely trying to play catch up (yet again – is there a possible disorder here?)

In any event, several interesting things have happened as a result of Amy being upfront about what she’s looking for in the dating arena.  Here’s a snapshot of her dating profile which has garnered the recent avalanche of interest:

I’m looking for


•Ages 35–55

•Near me

•For new friends, long-term dating, short-term dating, casual sex

You should message me if

you have read my profile and know what you’re getting yourself into – I’m not looking for a commitment and would prefer someone who doesn’t get jealous at all. So that I know you’re ok about this please include in your message the phrase “I never get jealous”. And don’t be surprised if I don’t reply – I don’t usually make first dates

  1. more than a week in advance,
  2. if I have to travel too far – and
  3. especially not with anyone who hasn’t even bothered to put up a photo.

So it could be the fact that it comes across rather plainly that what I’m looking for is no strings attached sex.  And it is most likely this fact which is responsible for my message box being full to overflowing of late.

Another pleasantly surprising thing that also happened coincidentally to Amy G joining this dating site is that I was given some sex toys last week.  On two consecutive dates, separately, by two very thoughtful and generous men.  These men are clearly very secure about their sexual prowess, contrary to what anyone who have read that article might believe about men and their insecurities at the thought of competing with a vibrator.  And when they discovered that Amy G did not possess any sex toys one of their first thoughts was to remedy the situation.  The encounters with them were additionally enhanced by the employment of such wonderful devices.  I was further treated to a sampling of another man’s collection when I expressed an interest and realised that there was another whole new world to explore.

I also met a couple of people who are keen to introduce me to their orgiastic parties – in fact I’ve been invited to one on Tuesday, which I might actually now be able to join in since one of my dates cancelled our Tuesday evening tryst.

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