Once I met a man I thought would be amazing. We could barely converse for 45 minutes. I’ve had a few one-night stands that I regretted, but for the most part I have been happy with the experience of on-line dating.

I always preferred Craigslist because it’s the ultimate grocery store where everything is at your fingertips. Want a tall slender type with a big cock? Or a man who will be your slave? Or looking for a threesome? Craigslist has it all while other sites tend to be tame, and those geared toward S&M seem to attract freaky folks.

I met a man with whom I had an intense week of total submission through Craigslist. The first night was just coffee. Two nights later we went for a walk around the river, then back to my place for a little more talking and getting to know one another. Two nights later he told me to be at his place at exactly 8:30. He told me what to wear, how long I would stay, what to bring. He tied me up and blindfolded me after stripping me naked. It took him thirty seconds to hogtie me. What followed was total submission and trust on my part with a man I barely knew. His home smelled of gasoline, which he later told me was eucalyptus (I did not believe him). At one point, I thought he was going to cut off my tongue, when he told me to stick it out. He put something on it that tasted like rich yogurt, told me to keep my tongue there, he grabbed my tongue with his, licked the substance off and did it again; all the while telling me not to move my tongue. It was actually whipped cream he whipped himself, which I found endearing as he did not cook.

Although I had no control, I was not worried in the least. Part of the thrill was not knowing where this would go. He could have done anything, and I could not have stopped him. I have always trusted my gut, and this was no exception. We never met again, though kept in touch over email for a bit. I see him every now and again in the neighborhood, but we do not say hello.

Another time I went on a date with a woman because I was curious. Lucy and I spent three hours talking, she seemed to like me; then proceeded to tell me as we were walking out of the coffee shop that I was too straight (mind you, she had a boyfriend). I really liked her but felt something was off. A few years later she and her man met another couple with whom I am extremely close (I met the guy on Nerve, one of the only times I allowed someone over without meeting first, we had quick fling, and now his girlfriend and I are close friends, in fact, I consider her one of my best friends). Lucy and Brendan met my friends, Marcy and Jake at a party and proceeded to have another date. When Marcy told me about Lucy and Brendan I knew right away who she was talking about. They had an extreme relationship. He branded her, she was arrogant but beautiful. She had told me she lived The Story of O, and made it seem like anyone who did not follow her path was mediocre. The relationship with the two couples turned strange and it ended quickly. My point is that I knew, because I trust myself, that something was off with Lucy.

I don’t need the Internet for dating any longer, because I hope to spend my life with my partner. I have used Craigslist to get rid of cat furniture, look for an editor, and find sex parties, among many other things.

But I have friends for whom the Internet provides them with potentially dangerous work. A close friend does tantric work, while another does happy endings, and cleans houses in the nude in her spare time from being a professional dominatrix. I worry constantly about them. It’s not a matter of judgment, hell I have done my fair share of unsavory things. I worry because they don’t know these men, enter their homes or rented hotel rooms, in some cases, even the girls’ own places. I have asked them to tell me the addresses of where they are going and keep their phones on. They simply won’t do it. My friend Amber gave a happy ending once to a guy I had dated. Somehow that came up. He was extremely beautiful, smart, and sadistic. When I went out with him, I knew something was off. I had met another girl who had a breakfast date with him, and did not want to see him again, because she too, knew something was wrong. When Amber saw him, his girlfriend was expecting their child. He actually asked Amber if we could have a threesome! He had dated another friend of mine, and was cruel to her; doing things like putting an ad on Craigslist for another guy, making her fuck the guy in front of him, then the guy would throw hundreds of dollars at her like she was a piece of trash.

I am not sure what rules apply to the Internet. What is a calculated risk versus potential suicide? I have joined activity groups through Craigslist and plan on continuing to do so. I’ve been lucky. Julissa was not. How can one know where the line is?

Daphne currently lives in Brooklyn. She is pursuing an MFA in poetry while tending to her tomato garden, keeping her boyfriend and their three cats happy while dreaming of writing like Wislawa Szymborska, Bonobo’s, and a cabin in Maine.

Placing the ad itself is a kind of high. Then you wait…

Problem is that the responses are overwhelming. I met one of my exes out of over two hundred responses. His was the only one I answered. This time, I got over two hundred and fifty replies. It’s almost impossible to go through that many emails. I put a picture of my torso, a little tease, a note of what I was looking for. I am good with words; very direct.

I answered two people. I liked their words and pictures. Again, as the first time, the men are nuts. Sending cock shots and pictures of their sisters. Telling me their life stories. One guy, Mr. Dickey, I kid you not, sends a picture of himself with a really cute girl, then another picture of his huge penis. No words. Right, I am going to be sure to go out with him.

The men I chose were both great, very dominant, beautiful, articulate, and sweet. I found another on a regular dating site. Another that I met on Craigslist and I reconnected. I should have a party of all the people I know from Craigslist. I stay in touch with everyone. I sold my furniture there, got rid of my kitty condo, had my first threesome, met people for poetry, etc.

Back to the topic at hand, the first man I met was totally dominant. We met for coffee the first night. He walked me home. Gave me a kiss on the cheek. Had a lovely time. The next morning when I woke up, there was an email waiting for me telling me he had a lovely time. The next evening we met outside the same coffee shop. He told me to wear a heavy coat with garters, a top and no underwear. We walked around the water.

Then back to my place. Not too much to tell. He told me for a shy girl I talked a lot. Two nights later he told me to meet him at his place. Exactly at 8:30. He blindfolded me and tied me up in a minute or two. His place smelled of gasoline.

Led me into his room. Made me kneel. Will leave the rest to your imagination but it was quite nice. He was very good at what he did. A mental challenge. All about trust.

The next man was completely different. Much sweeter. But darkness inside. I could tell by his email. I almost didn’t write him back because his email was vulgar but he had a devilish look in his eye, and his words were very sexy and well written. In person he was a doll.

On our second date. I invited him over for dinner, dressed as scandalous as I could manage, yet, nothing happened. We stayed up all night and NOTHING happened.

Third date he told me to leave my door unlocked and be blindfolded and near naked kneeling on the bed. This I could do. The night went well…

The man from the regular dating site asked me to meet him wearing a dress and stockings and told me to bring, well, lets just say certain items. I was offended and cancelled the date the first time. I knew he expected sex. But I rescheduled because I was curious as to how he could know I wanted him to dominate me. He was worth it. I wasn’t even sure I would be attracted to him let alone like him. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was beautiful and really easy to talk to. I could have talked to him all night though I preferred to have him pick me up and throw me on the bed. Turned out we had a lot in common. We live in a very strange world. Without giving anything away, let’s just say our paths crossed many years ago, it’s very very strange.

The meaning you may ask of all this? Whatever you’re looking for, the internet is an easy, perhaps all too easy place to find it. The supermarket of sex. I thought I would be sad over the breakup of another failed romance, but I am actually doing all right. Who would have known?

“Oh my god! How the hell did you know!”

I wanted to say, it’s really not that difficult when you date someone for nearly a year. And we did meet through craigslist ourselves. His words got me everytime. Even when placing an ad for a trannie or a woman with a strap-on. I knew it was Luke. And this made him cry. Because we couldn’t make it work between us. He hasn’t come to terms with his sexuality yet. Doesn’t want to deal with his “heteroflexibility” as he likes to call it which I think is really a cop out.

In any case, he is this amazing guy, who dates great women like me, gets bored, ruins the relationship–and goes for these people men, women, somewhere in between, that are after money, a place to stay, not a relationship, not even sex or friendship. He has to double check each time he has a date from craigslist, to make sure that the date isn’t an escort-referencing the escort services section! Half the time they are.

When we first met, his “assistant” was a trannie named Layla. She had nowhere to stay so he took her in after their craigslist fuck. When I came into the picture, she had been around about a month. She stayed another month or so. Free room and bored. MetroCard and lunch money. I was sure she was planning to run a bordello out of his apartment. She tried to break us up from the start. I wanted to feel sorry for her because I knew it wasn’t easy living in transition; between two genders. She made this impossible. She was a pathological liar. Taking and taking and basically feeling it was her right to do so. I spotted her lies the first day. It took Luke much longer. I guess he needs to see the good in people while I see them for what they are.

I still troll craiglist once in awhile–it’s like watching soap operas. Mindless entertainment. I will always be able to pick out Luke’s ads because he writes a certain way and I doubt he will change his character or his desires. I know I freaked him out by picking his ad out so easily, but after all, I chose his ad out of over two hundred when we first met. Words get me everytime.

I guess I thought that the couples would be more attractive as they had been at the other places I had been. However, some of those places were “takeout,” meaning you meet and go elsewhere for sex. Here the pickings were slim. My boyfriend and I were among the better looking. For many people, looks aren’t that important anyway. For me, looks and brains are extremely necessary.

I had been to a few private parties in the city before hosted by a nice couple. They interviewed me over email. I sent them pictures and answered basic questions. I had found them through mutual friends. They were selective to a point but personality and cash spoke volumes.

Their parties are very intimate. Held at townhouses and apartments in the city, they are always very beautiful places full of character and warmth. Lots of beds, clean and exciting. As with all parties, no alcohol is served, but you can bring your own and a bartender provides the mixers. Condoms, mints, wipes are all provided to tidy up.

There are beds in each room and couples having sex everywhere in all sorts of positions with all sorts of couplings. The interesting thing is that the men are more tame here than at a club. They don’t try to pick me up here, as much because they know at the end of the night, they are getting lucky. They let the women do the work.

Then there are other places that have been around forever that used to be great that are now not so great. Men can be found with professionals these days. But back in the day, my friends went and saw an older couple, the woman being double penetrated by two brothers. Her husband was looking into her eyes and holding her hand. They said they had never been so turned on in their lives. These days, I wouldn’t walk in there without my shoes on let alone get naked.

Then there’s the club where my boyfriend, along with six other men, was asked by a famous model to drop his pants, “You,” she said, to my boyfriend, “Come with me,” and off he went. I guess she liked what she saw.

There are many different sorts of sex clubs. It’s sort of like choosing a restaurant. It depends on what you like to eat. Some people are into S&M. I don’t want a guy to lick my boots. Once someone tried. I really tried to be polite but it isn’t going to get me off. In fact, in made me want to throw up because I am a little OCD and all I could think about is where my boots had been already and that the guy was totally nuts and my sex drive took a total nose dive. But I do like a light whipping. But for me that’s a private thing. That’s another story, however. Anyway, there are sex clubs that are intimate like the couple that has them in apartments. And then there are ones that are at the same place week after week that are more like a club and that is where my boyfriend and I ended up this time. And this is what happened.

After a few minutes, people stripped out of their clothes and retreated to the back rooms and onto beds. They paired off into groups. Started having sex. Very clinical. I got the feeling some of them did this every weekend.

Being a voyeur and anthropology major, I had a really good time even though I wasn’t attracted to anyone and didn’t participate with anyone but my boyfriend. The difficulty was keeping the women’s paws off me. That was definitely a challenge. There are rules at places like this but they are lax. I loved watching, and it didn’t matter how attractive the people were. What was a turnoff, however, was listening to the women in one of the rooms, in between giving blowjobs and being fucked, discussing with their heavy Long Island brogue, get pedicures and the fungus that had ensued from one such pedicure. Talk about losing my sex drive. I felt like I was in a surreal dissociative alternative reality. Something as pleasurable as sex in conjunction with nail fungus really blew my mind.

After, when we were leaving, the couple in the elevator tried talking to us. I pretended not to hear. After all, we had just been in a sex club.