A Fat Cock and a Fat Wallet

While I was active in my addiction, I met most of the men I “dated” on a BDSM personals site. For years, I had a sweet, innocent, good-little-submissive-girl profile. I don’t remember what it said exactly. “Looking for daddy, blah, blah, don’t have much experience, something, something, educated, professional, good girl, blah, blah, lady on the streets freak in the sheets, yada, yada, loving, caring daddy dom, etc. etc.” This profile underwent many changes over the years, but the gist of it was always that I was a sweet girl who didn’t have much experience in the lifestyle (lies!), that I was looking for something monogamous and wouldn’t date anyone who was attached to someone else (more lies), and I wanted to find a good, normal guy (unintentional lies) that just happened to be a kinkster.

In the year leading up to my recovery, my interest the kink lifestyle began to wane. Wane, but not disappear. I still occasionally met people off of the BDSM site. Though, most of the time I was now spending on the site was looking for ridicule-worthy profiles to laugh at and email my sub friends. One day I decided to to create a second profile that reflected what I was really looking for. The text of this profile was as follows: “Not going to lie, I’m on here looking for a dude with a fat cock and a fat wallet. Please do not email me unless you have both.” Of course, I got tons of well-deserved hate mail; but to my crazy brain, it was all highly entertaining.

Looking back, I realize how delusional I was at the time. I had nothing going on in my life but pursuing and obsessing over unavailable men, yet I would haughtily laugh at other people’s emails and profiles. Like I was such a prize? Sure, no one wants a socially inept, unemployed “dom” who lives in his mommy’s basement; but no one wants some smart-ass, underemployed, clingy, obsessive “sub” with major abandonment issues, either. And if they do, it’s for a good time, not for a long time.

Even though my inappropriate second profile didn’t deserve anything other than derision and hate mail, I actually met someone not awful from it. Mr. FCFW was everything his name implied. He was also married. Unlike HC, he never lied about it (not to me, at least; I’m sure there was plenty of lying to his wife). We slept together a few times, and then became platonic friends. He was supposed to be my “sugar daddy,” but I’ve never gotten more than a few beers out of him.

I still talk to Mr. FCFW frequently. In fact, he’s really the only heterosexual male I interact with on a one-on-one basis. I have some mixed feelings about this friendship. Sometimes our conversations get a little flirty (almost always initiated by me). Sometimes I even slip into calling him “Daddy.” And then there is the fact that he has a wife and a family that know nothing about me. That being said, he is a good man. He never has anything but glowing things to say about his wife and his kids. He is very supportive of my recovery from sex/love addiction. I know that he respects me enough to never do anything sexual with me again.

I don’t know if this friendship will stand the test of time. At some point in the future of my recovery I (or my sponsor) might decide that it’s too inappropriate. He might get tired of my neediness (we may just be friends, but I am a neeeedy friend), or we might just outgrow each other. For today, though, I’m glad that Mr. FCFW is one of my friends.