Tinder

She used me to come, and then she vanished. I knew she would — there were tells — but I kept the screenshots anyway.

She flew too close to the sun — not me, but her own desire — and then she was gone.

She’s young, she’s pretty, she’s compliant but not perfectly so, and I need her mouth on my cock — but there are complications.

Tinder’s gotten me laid, but their new pricing model is almost as offensive as my swipe-to-match ratio.

Someone didn’t appreciate my photos.

She doesn’t know me, but she nails me in three minutes flat — and then I ruin it.

She brought a bag with a girl scout uniform and several outfits, then declined to suck my cock while complimenting my eye contact. There’s not much I find more compelling than a woman who *might* want to go to bed with me, and that’s some toxic shit.

A new dating app that’s sort of like Tinder, but creepier. Christine is less than 500 meters away.

Emily sends me self-destructing nudes on Snapchat to protect herself, but won’t send the clothed photos I actually want by e-mail.

Holidays disrupt everything — writing, playing, routine. But I took my Tinder on the road, and apparently I’m catnip west of the Hudson.