Is Sir Enjoying His Lunatic Soup?
The weird shit that goes on in adultery seeking.
Yeah, I’m back.
Missed me?…….Liar.
Anyway, if you’ve been here before, you’ll know a bit about me. I’m a prospectively adulterous man, who writes about shit going on in his quest to find a partner to resolve a certain DB situation.
And, dear Reader, have I got a little adventure for you today!
In fact, let’s play a game. I’ll tell you a story. You tell me two things. Do you believe it? And if you do, tell me if I’ve been getting set up for a scam or have I genuinely crossed paths with a dead-set nutjob?
Here’s the brief.
Recently, I was contacted via an ad I had posted somewhere that shady people like you, you rascal, might visit. Somewhere that people who shouldn’t be connecting are.
Anyhoo, “bing” — a new notification.
“Hey. Saw your ad. Wondered if you’re still looking?”
Yes, anonymous replier, I am. Let’s chat.
“I liked the sound of your ad. I….I’ve…..I’m in a similar position…you know, no horizontal dance action for a long time…etc.” (paraphrased, reader, you get the drift)
Ok. So, as these things go, we get chatting about the usual stuff that you…sorry…those dirty cheaters that none of us know anything about, do….
All is going well, you’ll be pleased to know. Because I know how much you care. Thank you. Honestly. It means so much.
She’s smack in the sweet spot of my age bracket and lives close enough that this is all a very possible possibility.
Then shit starts getting…..odd.
“pic swap?”
Yeah. Ok. Bit early, but yeah. I send my carefully curated generic and half-face pic that kills reverse image searches.
She’s attractive. Like…wow. Properly hot. Hoo boy, lady, this could get….
“I can host…hubby away lots…..”
This is getting more interesting.
“I have three daughters, ages 19, 21, 23……”
Ok. Um. Had your first at 21. Whatever. Isn’t that a…..problem re “hosting?”
“Nope”
Ok.
A day passes by. “Bing!” New message. (I know, I know, the notifications are turned on and off to suit my OPSEC requirements)
“I’m a doctor”
Crap. That’s me out of the game. She’s going to be far more interested in which year’s Mercedes I drive…..oh! No. Apparently, she’s more interested in my character than my bank account. Unusual. Go on.
“I’m half Mexican….I’ve been stepping out for three years…”
Well, hola senora. Buenos Dias etc.
“I also have six adopted daughters, …ranging in age from 20…”
Oh fucking come on…do I look like that passing cloud just excreted me?
Then.
Get this.
“Would you like to meet my family?”
AND THEN, DEAR READER:
I get nine photos. Nine. Of the, just to remind you, 19 to 23 year old daughters and adoptive daughters.
Hmmm. These photos look awfully like dating site profile pics…..
Oh, this is getting amusing, because WHO SHARES PICS OF THEIR FUCKING KIDS?
At this point, I’ve decided on scam. I never clicked on one photo. Fuck that. I like my phone uncorrupted by malware, thank you.
So the conversation cools for 24 hours…then…. “Bing!”
“…so yeah, if you can travel to get here, I can host because my girls know…..”
Wait. You what?
“Yeah. When they caught me out, instead of getting mad, they joined in….”
Let that sink in for a minute. “…they joined in…”
It’s about now I hear ’70’s porn movie music tracks in my head: “Wakka, wakka, wakka….”
And it’s at this point I’m thinking, “Fuck it, I’m going to string this out…see how much fun I can have…”
“If the chemistry is right between us, I’d be open to sharing you with my daughters…”
WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA!
Oh, this is fantastic.
A day or so of conversation passes. It’s at this point, educated reader, that Bedswerver thinks, “Was that some kind of test? Was she trying to determine if I’m a pervert? Or gullible? Or…”
“BING!”
Oh fuck. I’m actually starting to dread thi….
“So if things went ok, would you like to mess around with my daughters, too?”
Oh, for fuck’s…..
I mean, honestly, lady, you’re the “ACME” company of Looney Tunes Road Runner cartoons. I wonder how this goes from here, Mr. Russian Scammer?
Things are quiet for a day or so. Some polite greetings. Normal, sane people conversation….Bedswerver starts thinking maybe she is real….and then —
“BING!”
Oh shit….
“I had lots of fun at work today…”
Did you?
Anything you’d care to share?
“This guy, he’s 36; I performed a surgery on him two years ago….”
Oh. So now you’re a surgeon….
“Anyway. I’ve been doing six monthly check-ups…”
Wakka
“I caught him trying to peek in my top…”
Wakka
“I looked down and noticed his hard-on…”
WAKKA
“So I said, ‘someone’s been looking forward to their Doctor’s appointment’…”
Frankly, by now, I’m looking around to see if John Holmes is here, dressed as a pool cleaner….
“And I told him, ‘don’t worry, it’s not like this has never happened’….”
WAKKA!
“And he said to me, ‘has this ever happened?’ and he reached up and grabbed the back of my neck, and we kissed…”
WAKKA
“Then we made out, and he was grabbing my ass…and….”
A reminder, here, reader, of Bedswerver’s situation. Long-term DB, in a regional location where meeting p/APs is limited, seriously limited…. Yes. Exactly. I’m gagging for pussy.
So, I was less than impressed.
“Are you jerking me? You know I’m like a slavering bloodhound looking for intimacy, and you, Ms. Dr, sorry, Ms. Surgeon, are telling me some random dude can grab you, and….when can I make an appointment to see you about this dull ache….?”
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you….I guess that was mean…”
Ya think?
So, let’s play this out:
“Were you hoping I’d be jealous?”
“Maybe. Are you?”
“I haven’t so much as touched anyone in (fill in the gap) years, and this random dude commits sexual assault, and somehow I’m supposed to be happy that you….”
“Oh”
There’s a gap in communication for a day.
“BING!!!!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake….
“You hurt my feelings….”
You what?
“Yeah. You made me feel disgusting….you said it was sexual assault, but I led him on…and I was willing….it really hurt me that you said it was sexual assault….”
WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA!!
You gaslighting bitch.
I think my last message said, “Not sure too many health workers are going to welcome being grabbed in the middle of a consultation…”
“Yeah, but I was leading him…..”
Which, faithful reader, is when I blocked the fucking lunatic. Ghosted her.
First time I’ve been the ghoster, and not the ghostee.
So? Whaddya reckon?
Elaborate scam, or straight-up loon?
If you enjoy my writing, send help…er….money. Otherwise, clap and respond with your choice. Scam or loon?
Other Bedswerver stories lurk here
Stay tuned. Read more at The Scarlett Letter. Get your adultery advice from these two genies — MonalisaSmiled or Teresa J Conway 🧚🏻♀️
Thanks for reading, you naughty person….😈
