“Down for a little choke & stroke. I got you.” That’s the profile of my last Tinder date, and he was oh-so-disappointing. His “choke” was more like a light tap to the neck, and I couldn’t even bear getting to the “stroke.” The word “intimidating” is one I hear pretty often. From almost every man I meet. After a half dozen Tinder fails and another dozen setups, I’m resigning from dating. I’ll never meet a man who can handle me. In one last-ditch effort, I’ve let my best friend take me to one of her kink parties. Disappointment after disappointment have given me pretty low expectations, but then, I meet him.
Tall, dark, with no fucks to give. He’s quite possibly exactly the man I’ve been waiting for. Angelo Tibéa I’m not the kind of man who dates. I don’t do dinners, I don’t do kisses and I definitely don’t take my sexual interests outside of the club. I built it for exactly that reason, to keep my darkness contained. But something about Charlie Dixon stirs up everything inside of me. I have to have her… No, more than that. I have to own her