A Hot and Sexy Online Connection

I can count on less than one hand the number of times I waited longer than a few days or a few minutes to fall into bed with someone with whom I had exchanged a dewy-eyed glance.

“I wanna but I won’t on the first date” isn’t my style. Or at least I didn’t think it was until I “met” my Handsome Stranger.

I’ve made connections with lovers online before. This experience isn’t foreign to me. In one instance, after a month of emails, I went for a long distance romance. We met for a whirlwind weekend of sex, darts, and a short road trip. It was marvelous; the energy and connection on the screen didn’t lie. It was exactly the same as online – or as one of my imaginary comadres is fond of saying–“meat” space. Nevertheless, our romance didn’t blossom into anything other than a deep and abiding friendship. Outside of romance and pheromones, I’ve never met an “imaginary” friend, aka online friend, who isn’t a match to their online persona – and I’ve been getting to know people via social media and electronic communities since 1999. Maybe I’m lucky and/or hyper-intuitive, but I think social media is a marvelous place to start conversations.

So it wasn’t any surprise to my friends or my kids when I announced: “So I’m not doing Mexico solo but I’m going with a guy I met in a Facebook group. But…um…we haven’t actually met-met.”

The reaction ranged from: “Be careful, are you sure he’s safe?” to “Wow! Have fun!”

And then there were my kids: “Of course you are, Mom.”

I take exception to the first reaction; women can be ax murderers, too. Lucky for him, I’m not a murderer unless it’s a snake, spider, or a punch line. And no worries, I’ll be safe; he comes highly vouched for by multiple people I know in “meat space.” I also knew he was the perfect partner in crime when I announced my plan B:

“If it totally sucks, I’ll just go to Cuba,” I told him.

“Hey, wait a minute…what if I want to go to Cuba?” he replied.

Yes Dear Reader, that was the first time he made me swoon. Our first spat was over who got custody of Cuba. Be still my heart.

In December our conversation had been going on for about a month, and the way things were going–my boss’s draconian time off rules; his obligations to his business in New York–it was looking like our first face-to-face would be in the departure lounge of the international terminal. And while that might be an adorable “meet cute” scenario in a Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan rom com, it actually made me a little uncomfortable – and I’m the one who will have sex with someone twenty minutes after initial introductions. So we constructed a plan: He was driving home to Colorado before we went to Mexico. I could burn some frequent flier miles and drive back with him. I love a road trip even if it is a forced march across the Midwest; and he welcomed the company of someone chattier than his dog.

This was somehow even more controversial than a foreign country, and the pearl clutching of some people around me was even more dramatic. I administered hairpats to well meaning friends, assuring them making a car trip with someone you don’t want to talk to isn’t a terrible thing – if we bore the hell out of each other I can always read books and snap pictures from the window. And we’ll flip a coin for Cuba in the departure lounge.

Isn’t it funny how technology has brought humans closer together? I know multiple couples that met via the screen and keyboard. All of them remark their relationship is like a never-ending conversation. Our conversation started in late October and hasn’t ended yet, as we move free-range over subjects. Our conversations feel like the sort people have when they talk to old friends deep in the night. We aren’t old friend, but I know we will be. On any given day we will riff on popular culture, complain about the government, talk about science, or describe favorite books and films. After three months, there isn’t anything he could ask me I wouldn’t answer freely and honestly. I’m pretty sure this is true of him. But then, one of the characteristics we share is guilelessness. It’s one of the many reasons Mexico with him will be an effortless continuation of our conversation, but it will be made real by facial expressions and hand gestures. Plus he has a madcap sense of humor and a taste for the absurd. So what could go wrong?

On the road, the worst that could happen is he will be driven insane by my singing to the radio or I will be further befuddled by astrophysics and Randian philosophy. The worst case Mexican scenario is I will spend almost two weeks with a brilliantly funny and smart friend.

Or you know. Cuba.

That he is breathtakingly handsome is a lucky footnote. I like pretty people. But there’s an elephant in the living room, and she’s wearing a pair of CFM pumps and little else. What about the naughty bits? Given how proud I am of the moniker “Slut”, you must be wondering –  will you? Won’t you? Do we wanna or not?

Fantastic question…

I wanted his brain immediately. Like in a Terry Gilliam cartoon, I want to snap open his skull and snog with his brain. That attraction happened for me as quickly as the sexy physical pull usually occurs. But a funny thing happened on the way to Syracuse and Cancun: this attraction to his brain begat a physical attraction. I want to share in a body I’ve never seen. Even if he’s covered in goiters and boils. I don’t care what he looks like. His body is simply the home to the magnificent brain and yummy soul I want to make out with. Finally, after all these years I lead with my head and it chooses the lover.

Call me the luckiest woman I know if he chooses me, too.

So where’s the next stop after Syracuse?

Cuba?

Read more from Laura Ann Klein on her blog, Edgy June Cleaver