So the night finally arrived and I attended my first fetish party, ever. The night was a mixed bag of emotions so I’ll just word vomit here and hope it makes sense.

Tinder Dude #4 and I ran into each other on the way to the appointed meeting place. Approving looks were exchanged and we happily made our way to the event. The club was small and since we got there a little early, there were few people there. We go to some tables in the back and he pulls out a few toys he brought and tested them out.

My outfit received several compliments from the crowd, the music was great, and the people really cool. I am feeling right at home. A show starts of Japanese rope bondage which ends with the woman being suspended upside down from the ceiling and I am in awe.

Tinder Dude and I make our way to the sex room and get it on in front of another couple. The penis is amazing, he knows how to hurt me in just the right ways and I am literally begging for more.

And then the dream ends.

While waiting for a cab to take us to another party, this fucker tells me that he has a girlfriend. Now, I asked him before we even met up if he was in a relationship and he said no. He asked me if I was open to being in a relationship and I said I wasn’t looking, but would consider it if the right person came along. He sent me pictures of him in fetish clothes so I would know how to dress. Two of these pictures had women in them, that he assured me were not his girlfriends or ex girlfriends. Now, after we have very public sex, something that I have never done, he tells that one of them (EDITED: one of the women from the picture) is his girlfriend.

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We get in the cab (there’s no other way for me home at this point) and I flip out.

Me: You’re an asshole. I love how you say this shit AFTER we fuck. I was looking for someone to party with and probably would have still fucked you had you told me this before. But you lied and every time I look at you I want to punch you in the fucking kidney

Him: I’m sorry, you just looked so cute and excited about going to your first S&M party. I feel bad now.

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Me: You should feel bad. I want to you to feel bad.

I don’t know why, I guess a sorry attempt at salvaging the night. But I go to the second party with him. But then a baby goth chic that he knew made a bee line for him and when I came from the bathroom, he was dry humping her on the dance floor. So I grab my coat and go on home.

The thing that most upsets me is the dishonesty. The questions and statements that led me to believe that we could at the very least be new party pals. I don’t need the assurances of a possible relationship to have sex with someone. I would much prefer the cold truth so I know how much to guard my heart. His lies put such a dark cloud on what had the makings of an awesome night =(