I wake up realising that the AC has been switched off. In my disorientated state, I frantically unlock my phone to find the source of my pleasure.
“Grindr” shows up in a private folder on my phone, and I click on the app. The first thing I do without hesitation is to click the messages icon at the top. I click on it repeatedly, anxious to see if “Nick” has replied. When I see Nick’s profile at the top of my unread messages, I am relieved. My grin turns into a chuckle when I see he has indeed sent me nudes of himself, as he promised just hours before.
He really does have a nice thick one, I note, and whip out my own to start masturbating to them. A quick shiver, and a low moan. I come. I instantly proceed to the bathroom to wash myself. The jerk off session was quick, and satisfying, and I now long for a snack. Perhaps a bite out of a karipap Mum usually makes for tea. Or maybe not. I had other things to do first, I reminded myself.
Within a few minutes however, I chat up another guy. The cycle continues, and the catfishing starts anew.
For the uninitiated, catfishing refers to the act of using someone else’s photos, usually for the purpose of pursuing deceptive online romances.
Dear Straight People,
I’m not sure when exactly I started catfishing. It may have been two or three years ago, maybe earlier. But what I am certain is that I am quite a pro at it.
I know exactly how to get around having multiple profiles on Grindr using just one email address – instead of making multiple email IDs every time – and I know what things to put on your profile that will get you all sorts of messages and picture, in an instant.
It’s a process that has taken years of experience (both good and bad) to perfect, and I’m quite proud of it.
My Grindr profile – let’s call him Jack – is creatively designed and incorporated using random Asian models on the web. Asian men, from experience, are most likely to get me a response compared to other ethnicities. I then stock up on various shots of genitalia from another source to make picture-perfect “Jack”.
The end product is magnificent; a 5’2”, versatile top, and one heck of a hunk. Jack is mine, and I love him. But I have to share him, or else it’s no fun.
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