Hookup Sex

This story is submitted for the

Pink Orchid 2025 for Women-Centric Erotica Challenge

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Dear Blabby,

I am a cis-het F in my mid-thirties, well, OK, late thirties and I need your advice. It has been more years than I care to admit since I have been with a man and every time I think my dry spell might be over, things fall apart once I mention it has been a long time for me. It's like the guys figure something is wrong with me and they run away and ghost me.

I like sex and have a nice toybox and some well-trained fingers, but I miss being with a guy. I miss waking up with a guy. I miss the closeness which comes after satisfying sex.

What am I doing wrong? Is there anything you can recommend?

Signed -- Frustrated

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Dear Frustrated,

Girl, you seriously need to get laid! Don't go worrying about long-term relationships, romance and love. Just go boink someone. Bump uglies. Dance the horizontal polka!

And once you've gotten laid, you won't have that years-long drought hanging over you. You'll be able to say it's been 'a few months' or something vague like that and you won't scare the good guys off.

Go to a hook-up app, sign up and go for it. Of course, you will want to take the usual safety precautions, but the sooner you do this, the better off you'll be.

Good luck.

Blabby

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So, there was my answer! I kind of knew it would be along those lines but I had always shied away from hook-up apps. I never liked the idea of being judged solely on my photo, a short bio and my sexual appeal. Maybe I'm old-fashioned but that seemed too cheap for me. But Blabby told me to go for it.

The next day was Saturday, the day after yet another lonely Friday night, and I had nothing but time on my hands. I took a long, hot bath, shaved my legs and for the first time in years, I shaved the undercarriage, as well. After drying and teasing my hair into a nice style, I went outside my little duplex and strolled through the yard. There were a few nice plants, one even had some spring flowers on it which I chose for a photo backdrop. I had started taking some selfies when Mrs. Zufall came into the yard.

She was a neat lady who had met her GI husband back in the seventies when he was stationed near Heidelberg. He died unexpectedly years ago leaving her widowed and alone in the US. She worked various jobs until her retirement a few years before.

"Very pretty today,

mein Kind,"

she said as she approached, "Why chu take pictures?"

"Hi, Mrs. Z. I need some pictures so I can find a nice guy."

"Bett, you no go to tavern or dance?"

"I've tried that and it doesn't work."

"Why pictures?"

"I'm going to go online and try to meet a man."

"On zee computer?"

"Yes."

"Ach, Du Lieber Gott. Dat is no vay to meet a man. He might be

böse,

uh, chu know, evil."

"I know, but I will be safe. We will meet in a crowd before we go alone anywhere."

"Vell, let me help. Give me camera and I take picture for chu."

"Oh, that's so sweet. Thank you."

"How do I do dis? I never understand telephone pictures."

"Here, let me set it up. See, you aim it at me and lightly tap the little red dot here at the bottom."

"How many chu vant?"

"Ten or more. I will go through them on my computer and pick out the best."

She turned out to be a taskmaster. I was ordered from place to place, told how to stand, where to face the light and on and on. By the time we were done, I was sure she had taken close to fifty photos.

"Oh, Mrs. Z, these look great. And this one, it's perfect! I can't wait until I can look at them all. Thank you. If there is anything I can do for you..."

"Bring me ze best one and I put it up in my house."

"Sure, and thanks again."

And some of them were great. They didn't hide my age but they made me look pretty good, if I say so myself. I finally picked out three to use on an app, printed out the best one for Mrs. Z and grabbed myself a lunch.

With a pounding heart, I logged on to several hook-up apps. I reviewed the costs, read the contractual language and eventually decided to go with Sandr, a hetero site which seemed to be the most popular and successful in our community. I had been warned to be vague with the answers in case I landed a creep but I did want to get laid, so I tried to put a good spin on things without giving too much personal info.

NAME: Lizzy (I go by Beth, short for Elizabeth, but decided to change it a little for the app.)

JOB: Sales (Mostly true. I'm a liaison between my company and other businesses. Not exactly a sales clerk, but it would do.)

HOBBIES: Creative arts (Yeah, so I write children's books in my spare time. It's kinda artsy, isn't it?)

AGE: 36 (Yeah, I lied there but only by two years. So, sue me.)

KINKS: None (Oh, I had done a few little crazy things with my BF years before, but I wasn't really into anything big time. Not at all.)

PREFERENCES: Quick romp in the hay with no regrets. (Now that one was true. I wanted quick, but not too quick, if you know what I mean, satisfying sex to get past this dry spell. Nothing more.)

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The next day, I logged on. Within five minutes I was about ready to shit-can the whole thing. God, were there some creeps out there! And what was with the dick pics? Now, by and large, most penises are not attractive. Oh, some are, but most are, well, most are funny looking to downright ugly. Odd curves, weird angles, funny bumps (and I worry about some of those, you know), strangely shaven pubes, tattoos and even piercings all are an immediate turnoff.

I threw out those with the dick pics and looked through the rest. Some of the guys were reasonably attractive but the more I looked, the more some of the pics looked fake. There were some telltale signs of photoshopping and AI use, both of which caused me to delete them.

And that left me with ten out of the dozens I had sifted through. Next came the bios. Now I knew some of them were probably exaggerated, much like I had done, but a quick read helped me thin things down to three. I mean, who in her right mind would respond to 'Hey, Babe, I just want to make you feel good with my mighty little man. I know you will love him.' or 'I have been with hundreds of chicks and I've not had a complaint yet.'? They had probably not complained because they were laughing too hard when he left.

The first one I looked at closely featured 'Mike' who was, or claimed to be, a lawyer. As I read his bio, I realized he couldn't put a noun and a verb together to save his life. Now I know a lot of people are more casual in their speech when they aren't in the professional world, but I would expect some of the basic grammar guidelines to be followed, at least by a lawyer. I mean, at one point I couldn't even tell what he meant. I deleted that one and turned to the next.

His bio was professionally laid out which went along with his claim to be in the tech world. I was encouraged he might be honest in his bio. His pic showed him to be average in looks but with some pretty boring glasses. His upper torso seemed to be pretty buff so I decided to contact him.

The last one said he was a doctor. Now that was interesting. Why would a

doctor

need to use a hookup app? I thought people threw themselves at doctors. And didn't doctors tell their patients not to have casual sex, you know, because of STDs and things? Maybe he was new to the area or something, I figured. His pic showed a reasonably good-looking guy about my age, nice haircut and a sweet, genuine smile. He would be my number-two contact.

So, I contacted Mr. Techie and suggested we meet at the local Java-Guava Hut. We went back and forth until we agreed on the date and time. When I arrived at the appointed time, I saw him sitting in the back nursing a coffee. I grabbed a latte for myself and went up to him.

"I'm Lizzy. Are you Greg?"

He jumped up almost spilling his coffee. "Yes. Hi, Lizzy. Damn, you're easy on the eyes. Have a seat."

What? The first thing out of his mouth is about my looks? "Sure. Thanks. I, uh, I have to admit I've never done this before so I don't know what to say."

"We, uh, just talk and see if we click. If we do, we can agree to get together again."

"You sound like you've done this before. How many times?"

"Me? Oh, uh, once or twice, I guess."

The bastard was lying. I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his words. If it had been 'seven or eight times,' that degree of vagueness would have made sense, but 'once or twice,' yeah, no. Either it was once or it was twice. There's no wiggle room between them.

"I see. Recently?"

"What's with the interrogation? I thought we were to see if we hit it off and I feel like I'm being tested or something."

"You know, Greg, let's call it quits right now. If I'm going to have sex with someone, I want to know a little about them and their sex lives. I don't need details but I need some general info. Take care."

I grabbed my latte and left as quickly as I could. No sense in waiting around with a loser. On the way home, I began to doubt myself. Maybe I was being too nosy. Maybe I was 'interrogating' him too much. Maybe things with hookup apps were supposed to be more casual. But in the back of my mind, I definitely knew I didn't trust him. Sure, I had stretched things on my bio, but I simply knew he wasn't at all honest with me. And he got defensive too easily. Yeah, I was right to get out when I did.

I brooded over the following weekend and kicked around forgetting the last guy, you know, the doctor. But he looked so

nice

and, I don't know, he looked like someone I would want to meet at a party or something. Finally, after several days of arguing with myself, I simply made the contact. A few hours later I got a response.

"Hi. Thanks for contacting me. There was something about your posting that attracted me and I would like to meet with you, too."

"Good. Coffee?"

"Sure. I'm open Fri or Sat, anytime."

We made arrangements to meet but at a different location. Somehow I didn't want the bad vibes from my first attempt to rub off onto my second one. I know, I know I sound superstitious and maybe I am, but I didn't want any negativity clouding my mind.

I arrived first, grabbed a latte and had a seat by the window. A few minutes later I saw him hurrying down the sidewalk but once he got to the front door, he stopped. He looked around nervously and paced back and forth a couple of times before he seemed to take in a deep breath and walk through the door. He was fairly trim and had a pleasant, honest-appearing face. Once he saw me, he walked up and said, "I'm Travis. Are you Lizzy?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Oh, good. Mind waiting while I grab a coffee?"

"No, take your time."

As he stood in line, I got a good look at his back. He seemed reasonably fit with broad shoulders, a tight ass and nice, mussed hair a girl could run her fingers through. He was pleasant with the waitstaff and I saw him toss a few bills into the tip jar. 'Pleasant, decent looking and not cheap,' I thought to myself.

When he came to the table, however, he seemed nervous all over again. He grinned sheepishly at me before he spoke, "Well, I made it. That was the first hurdle."

"First hurdle?"

"Yeah. I almost didn't come."

"Oh? Why?"

"Too nervous. I, uh, I have to admit I've never done this before."

"Wow. Cool. Neither have I."

"Really?" He seemed super pleased with that. "I guess we should spend some time getting to know each other then. Right?"

"Sure. Ah, look. I'm going to be honest with you here. I may have stretched things a little on the app."

"You and everyone else, from what I hear."

"Look, I'm thirty-eight, not thirty-six. Just gotta get that out there."

"Thirty-eight is great. I'm thirty-seven, so no biggie."

"And I work for a big, international conglomerate and I'm not in sales."

"That's OK. What you do for a living isn't so important here, is it?"

"I guess not. So, you're a doctor?"

"Yeah. I work with an ER management corporation. They send me to one of three different ERs here in the city depending on the demand."

"Wow. How do you keep them all straight in your mind?"

"Well, the hardest part normally would be the computerized medical record system but they all use the same program. And you get used to the staff pretty quickly. I've been here about two years and I feel I've settled in OK."

We each sipped on our drinks for a few seconds before I decided to start asking the hard questions. "Uh, I'm single and have been for quite some time. Like I said, this is the first time I've tried this. You mentioned it was your first time, too."

"Yeah. I've been propositioned a few times here lately but it didn't seem right somehow. But I'm lonely and, well, a friend suggested I break out of my shell by doing this."

He did seem kinda shy and his mentioning a 'shell' was interesting. "I'm single, had a couple of long-term boyfriends but no one lately. You?"

There was a look of pain on his face before he looked down at his coffee. "I, uh, I lost my wife four years ago."

Oh, shit! Did he mean what I thought he did? Did she die or was this just his way of saying they split? I assumed she died but I was suddenly barely able to talk. I eked out a few words. "Oh, that's so sad. I'm sorry to hear it."

"Oh, no, no, it's not what you think. When I say I lost her, I mean I lost track of her. She just up and took off. Didn't hear from her for a couple of months. When she came back, she filed for divorce and disappeared again, probably with some guy. That's mainly the reason I moved here. I needed to get away from everything that reminded me of her."

"Look, you don't need to talk about it, honestly," I said as I laid my hand on top of his. "We're here for, well, you know, and I have the feeling from what little I know about you I'd like to, uh, I'd like to get together with you."

"Yeah? Even after what I just said?"

"Sure. Sounds like you are trying to make a break with your past kinda like I am."

"Yeah, I am. Like I said, my friend said I needed to do this. Uh, how will we do this?"

"Maybe get a room, you know, at a hotel or something. Maybe out of town?"

"I thought women wanted to be close to friends in case anything, you know, in case things didn't turn out safe."

"True, but I have a very good feeling about you. How about we split the cost of a room at the Sleepers Inn over in Centerton?"

"No, I can't do that. I'll pay. After all," he chuckled, "I'm a rich doctor."

"Yeah, I bet," I laughed back at him. I knew from my work that many ER doctors did OK but were never going to be truly rich, not like some plastic surgeons or others like them. "But thank you, that is sweet. Uh, I'm available any weekend through the end of the month."

He pulled out his phone, looked up his schedule and we agreed on the following Saturday. He promised to text me the time and room number but I asked we meet before we got there as I didn't want to look like a prostitute. We figured it all out, stood and awkwardly shook hands before we went our two ways.

There! I had done it. I had made plans for a sex date with a guy. I was nervous and excited both. For the next few days, I had trouble concentrating at work and one of my coworkers even commented on it.

"Beth, you OK? You seem distracted."

"Oh, maybe I am a little. Just something in my private life."

"New boyfriend?" she asked as she grinned at me.

"Oh, no, nothing like that." Well, I was honest, wasn't I? He wasn't a boyfriend now, was he? "Look, if I'm screwing up, let me know."

"No, you're not screwing up. I'm just used to you being more focused."

"OK, I'll try to concentrate more. Thanks for the heads up."

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The Saturday came roaring at me, making me more and more nervous by the hour. On Friday afternoon I called my best bud and told her the news.

"Hey, Trace, I, uh, I'm going out with a new guy tomorrow."

"That's great. Anyone I know?"

"No. Ah, this is kinda embarrassing but it's a, uh, it's a hookup date."

"Beth! You on a hookup date?"

"Yeah. Me. It's been so long that I needed to break loose. And I'm going to need you for backup."

"Sure. You're on my phone finder but tell me where you're going."

"Sleepers Inn in Centerton."

"Leaving town, huh?"

"Yeah, didn't want to run into anyone I know. Look, I'll get there at six and text you the room number. And I'll next text you again at ten. Thumbs up means it's OK. A red, angry face or if you don't hear from me means call for help."

"OK. You sure he's OK?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. He's actually kinda sweet, a little shy even. Says it's a first for him, too."

"Don't they all say that?"

"No, they don't, at least my limited experience from meeting guys on the app. I'm nervous, but I feel it's perfectly safe."

"Well, good. And good luck."

"Thanks."

-----

I stewed and worried most of Saturday. What should I wear? Perfume or no? What hairdo should I have? What undies? I soaked in the tub, cleaned everywhere, shaved my legs and tidied up below, glad I had gotten rid of the heavy-duty muff a few weeks before. I decided putting on some nice undies would be worthwhile. A nice matching bra and thong which were super thin went on first, then I decided on an attractive pair of slacks, thin blouse on which I would leave the top two buttons undone, a loose, light sweater and low heels.

When I looked in the mirror, I was pleased. I think I'm decent looking, certainly on the north side of a five, but that night I was pushing eight, maybe even eight-point-two-five. With my heart fluttering from nerves, I took my small clutch which had my license, some money hidden under a mirror in my compact, a small brush, some condoms and my phone. I also had a tote bag with a change of clothes and some casual shoes. After turning off the light, I closed the door behind me and went down to the car.

Our plan had been to meet in the hotel parking lot but as I was driving there, I realized I was following the same car on every road and through every turn. It looked like a single person was driving and when we hit the interstate, I sped up, pulled next to him and glanced over. It was him! I tooted my horn and waved at him before I slowed slightly to follow him. About a mile outside of Centerton, he signaled and pulled over. Once I stopped behind him, he came back to my car.

"Hi, Lizzy, glad to see you."

"Yeah. Kinda funny we end up like we did."

"Look. Follow me to the hotel and I'll drive around until I see a decent parking spot. You take it and then join me in my car. OK?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Say, uh, I've been kinda nervous and haven't eaten much."

"Let's get room service to bring up some sandwiches or something."

"Sounds good. See you there."

Everything worked out like clockwork. I found a decent spot in the back and hopped into his car. The valet took his car and as we walked into the lobby, I draped my hand in the crook of his elbow like we had been together a long time.

After he was tipped, the bellboy took the 'Do Not Disturb' sign, hung it on the outside handle and closed the door behind him.

Then

I got super nervous. I was in a strange hotel room with a strange guy who I was going to have sex with, if my jitters would let me. I looked at Travis and could tell he was nervous, too.

"Maybe a little alcohol?" I giggled.

"Yeah, good idea. Let's see what they've got here..."

The minifridge had a few snacks and some cheap, generic wine, nothing I was interested in.

"Maybe that room service you talked about?"

"Yeah, good idea. I'm not too hungry 'cause I'm kinda nervous. You?"