On a recent walk, Quean Mo and I started reminiscing about our online experiences – specifically our search for a unicorn. At this point in our relationship and lifestyle, we’ve accepted that our strength lies in meeting people in-person.
However, between our nomadic lifestyle, living in a technological world, and the recent pandemic, we understand that keeping our ENM relationship alive requires a certain level of online activity.
Regardless of her presence as a sex blogger, committing to online interactions of this nature is Quean Mo’s kind of hell. We discovered this early on, so we came to an agreement.
The agreement is as follows:
❤ The initial research is done by yours truly
❤ I reach out to profiles I feel particularly drawn to (i.e., people that show signs of compatibility)
❤ When I have had a positive connection with someone (i.e., a conversation confirming those compatibilities), Quean Mo joins.
❤ Together, we continue the conversation with the goal of setting a time and place to meet the potential third in-person or via video.
Our process sounded structured, foolproof, and I’d be lying if I said we weren’t overly optimistic in the beginning. Engaging in this lifestyle in a way that works for both of us is priority, and we felt we’d cracked the code.
Truth is, we hadn’t – haven’t.
Although this strategy is still in motion, when I first hopped online all that time ago, I thought our perfect unicorn was right around the virtual corner. I was humbly mistaken.
To prove it to you, here are our top 4 online dating blunders – lessons in our search for a unicorn.
1. The Faux Parisian
Quean Mo and I were in Paris for her birthday. The goal: a whole lot of Sexy Travel. We had connected with someone a couple weeks prior. She had red hair, a round face, and a curvy body. Her profile read “submissive” in big, bold letters, and her bio described her fantasy: desperate to serve a couple.
After some dialogue, we told her we’d be visiting her city. She wanted to get to know us more and meet us upon arrival.
She confided in us, saying she deeply wanted to “serve” us and treat us like the Sir and Quean we are. She described, in detail, how she wanted to be used as our table, as we eat a meal that she cooked for us. She said she would sleep on the floor at our feet and bring us breakfast the following morning.
She took submissive to a level we’d never experienced! She designed scenarios that we had never imagined…
The conversations were thrilling – for the first time Quean Mo was eagerly engaging, curious about this beautiful Parisian princess.
When we confirmed our travel dates, I researched an upscale, Parisian bar we could treat her to. After presenting this idea, she eagerly agreed!
Plans were set.
When we arrived at our flat, we sent her a text. Her enthusiasm was enormous! But…
She had to change the date for our meeting. Something urgent had come up. So, we rescheduled the reservation.
When that date approached, she had to reschedule again for similar reasons. We cancelled the reservation and waited for her to provide her availability. And then…
Mo’s expectations plummeted after the first cancellation. She knew what was happening, even when I tried to remain positive. I couldn’t help it, you see, we had put so much time and energy into getting to know this person; she felt friendly, lovely, compatible. We had all shared things with each other – sensitive things, naughty things!
But, as days passed, I was forced to accept the truth: we had been catfished.
About a week after this realization, her FetLife and social media accounts disappeared entirely. Our Parisian princess was a fake!
What reaffirmed this was about a week or so later, we had a request from another submissive on FetLife with nearly the same bio as her, only entirely different pictures. To confirm my suspicions, I started a conversation…
“Her” messages were identical:
“I will cook for you!”
“You can use me as a table!”
“I will sleep at your feet and serve you breakfast in the morning!”
This time I would not be fooled. I asked her to send a picture of her making a specific hand sign, offering the same one in return. She went MIA almost immediately.
Luckily, Quean Mo and I know how to Sexy Travel without the company of a third. But, to this day, we agree that had this faux Parisian princess been real…
It would have been one hell of a cherry on top.
For our Sexy Travel à Paris, check out these links:
2. The Fit Torontonian
One day, Quean Mo received a message on Instagram. At this time, she had a following of approximately 1.5k, and was used to receiving unsolicited propositions. What was different this time, however, is this proposition was from a woman.
When she saw it, she was ecstatic!
The woman had begun following Quean Mo’s profile because it complemented her own fantasy – she was a cuckcake . At this point in her journey, Quean Mo had never had a conversation with someone who specifically defined themselves as a cuckcake, so she was thrilled! For me, this was a great sign. I had little expectations, as we didn’t even know this person’s location, but even so, it was a positive beginning.
She told us that she was from Toronto, which is a city we frequent (where Quean Mo grew up). Since we were burned a time before, we did a bit of research to confirm she was real.
Fortunately, her Instagram was established; complete with hundreds of photos of her and friends. Her Facebook was active and had a realistic creation date of several years back.
Our egos had been stroked. Not only was this woman real and seemingly compatible, but she sought us out!
So, when Quean Mo believed enough that this was a legitimate person, she posed the question: what exactly are you looking for?
And that’s when she said it:
“I want to dominate your husband in front of you. And while I fuck him, I want to body shame you; reminding you how much fitter and hotter I am than you.”
Quean Mo fully laughed out loud when she read this. Although impressed by how specific the woman was about her desires, Mo realized that she knew nothing about what we wanted. In fact, this woman’s desires were the exact opposite of what we were seeking.
Quean Mo’s initial pride deflated because she understood that, in fact, this woman wasn’t a fan of the blog at all. The woman had found the “cuckquean” hashtag and saw it as an opportunity (fair enough). If she had read the blog, she would have known:
❤ I do not get dominated
❤ Body shaming Quean Mo is a hard limit
When we told her these things, she was as disappointed as we were, but the mutual respect and understanding was maintained.
In the end, we thanked her for reaching out and wished her “good luck” on finding a compatible couple. We haven’t heard from her since, but I have a feeling we all lived happily ever after…
3. Tignes’ Emotional Vampire
During our time in Tignes, Quean Mo asked me to pursue sexting relationships online so she could explore her feelings. I agreed and consulted FetLife for some compatible matches. I reached out to approximately ten women, and one replied.
She was a doctor from the United States. The debut was pleasant. She understood that I was married, but my wife was aware and consenting to our interactions. The doctor and I began sexting almost right away. It was enjoyable, and Quean Mo seemed happy with the arrangement. But then things took a weird turn…
The doctor’s texts became more frequent, less about sexuality and friendship, and more about her issues with mental health. At first, Quean Mo and I didn’t mind; we were happy to support her.
Quean Mo started engaging in her own conversations with the doctor, as she has history with mental health issues (i.e., body dysmorphia and eating disorders). But eventually, Quean Mo abandoned that post because it became one-sided, “therapy” sessions that Mo hadn’t signed up for. The doctor continued to inundate my inbox at all hours of the day and night.
The doctor wrote to me about wanting to lose weight, and how depressed she was. She complained about how “overweight” she had become, but how she couldn’t stop binging, and had no time to fix herself or her romance-lacking life.
I did my best to give her advice – like, speak to a professional, for example. But she made excuses for herself and her problems at every turn. She would send me pictures of her before she had gained weight, asking if I liked her better then or now.
All along, Quean Mo had been watching this develop from the sidelines, and her sympathy eventually ran out…
Quean Mo had concluded that the doctor was using me as an emotional outlet and ego pump. The doctor was fishing for compliments and showed zero interest in my life or the initial reason we connected.
So, Quean Mo shut it down (she even rage posted about it here).
4. The Young Marseille
When we arrived in France at the beginning of the pandemic, we went into full lockdown almost immediately. This lasted for several weeks. We were allowed out for one hour a day, with a limit of a 5-km radius from our residence. It was strict and we respected it.
Eventually we started getting restless and wanted to see what it was like out there, virtually, during this time. I matched with a profile that complemented ours. The image was vague: a closeup of a woman’s chest in a tight shirt. I sent a message with no expectations, and she replied.
Right away, the conversation was flowing. She asked as many questions as I did, quickly confirming compatibility, without jumping the gun or being inappropriate. She identified as a submissive. She was very communicative, interested, and kind. Even so, I wasn’t going to forget our previous experiences – I wanted to confirm she was who she said she was. I requested an image of her making a specific hand sign, saying we would reciprocate to prove our identity. She happily obliged …
When I received her picture, an alarm went off inside of me. At this point we had been speaking for some time, getting to know one another. Quean Mo knew about the conversations but was not actively participating. It was time to bring her in…
Mo took one look at her picture and felt the same as me: she is too young.
When I posed the question – how old are you? – it was the first time she took a while to respond. But when she did, this was what she said:
“I am 17 years old. I know I’m young, but I am a consenting person. If you don’t want to keep the conversation going, I respect your decision.”
Even if she handled herself more maturely than most of our online encounters, we did not feel comfortable continuing, and we politely told her so. Her response followed:
“I enjoyed our talk anyway. It was a great learning experience for me to speak to mature people in a strong relationship. Thank you.”
Lessons Learned in Search of Our Unicorn
As you can see, the search for our unicorn continues…
But it hasn’t been without its lessons. Quean Mo and I not only learned what works best for us, but also confirming compatibility and proof of identity before dating or engaging in sexual discourse saves time.
Lucky for us, meeting people in person is back in swing! So, for now, we will shelve the online dating and do what we do best…
Until next time,
Fuck well, friends.
P.S. So, tell me, what is your most memorable online dating story?
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