Think men on online dating sites are dodgy? Meet the sex-mad women! (Brit article)
This is interesting to me, because Non Christian and Christian culture insist that only men want sex while women do not.
Men are portrayed as wanting sex or liking sex, but women are portrayed as hating sex or being un-interested in it.
One of the men interviewed says his marriage was sexless for several years.
LOL! Christians lie through their teeth when they tell virgins to “wait for marriage for sex, the sex will be great.” No, it’s not. Some people don’t have any sex after marriage.
Some of the dudes interviewed admit that they had affairs on their wives. One guy who is 44 or 45 said his wife died when she was 39.
From a British site:
(Link): Think men on online dating sites are dodgy? Meet the sex-mad women! (Brit article)
- Four men explain that it’s not just male oddballs you find on the Internet
Being a widow and single fatherhood have affected their online dating lives
Undeterred by their dating mishaps, they are still looking for love online
By ANTONIA HOYLE
PUBLISHED: 19:09 EST, 29 January 2014 | UPDATED: 19:09 EST, 29 January 2014
We’ve all heard about the bad behaviour of men who date online: the married ones just out for casual sex, the ‘successful businessmen’ who turn out to be minicab drivers and the ‘spontaneous risk takers’ who are, in truth, crashing bores.
But as it is reported that one in every five relationships now begins via the web, four men turn the tables and reveal to Antonia Hoyle their often hilarious encounters with women looking for love…
Tears when I turned down sex
Peter Jones, 45, an author from Southend-on-Sea, Essex, started internet dating seven years ago after his wife Kate, an entrepreneur, died suddenly of a brain haemorrhage, aged just 39.
My date interrupted my nervous small talk to ask about the platinum band on my finger.
‘It’s my wedding ring,’ I said.
Looking at her horrified expression, I added hastily: ‘My wife died.’
Her disgust turned to sympathy, but it was an awkward introduction to internet dating.
The next day I changed my profile to read ‘widowed a few months ago’. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but I hoped a brief summary of my marital status would explain my presence online.
I also hoped, selfishly, it would persuade my dates that I wasn’t to blame for my single status; that there was a legitimate, if tragic, reason.
Kate had suffered a sudden brain haemorrhage a year earlier in September 2006. We’d been married two years and her death left a gaping hole in my life. I couldn’t imagine finding anyone to replace her, but I knew she would want me to be happy.
I naively thought internet dating would be easy. I had no idea what a thick skin I’d need.
When I wasn’t ignored, it often felt as if I were on a production line. One woman I met in a bar early on claimed haughtily that she’d been out with a man called Mike the day before and was meeting another called Steve the following day.
I was sandwiched between the two! I told her it didn’t feel very special, but she didn’t care.
I slept with two women in those early months; both after our first dates. Neither answered my calls afterwards.
The sense of rejection following such physical intimacy was awful, prompting me to instigate a ‘no sex on the first date’ rule.
‘One 40-something secretary burst into tears at the end of an otherwise enchanting evening because I wouldn’t sleep with her’
‘I’ve spent the day cleaning my house and getting ready,’ she sobbed.
Sadly, a date in 2008 with a 35-year-old mature student that blossomed into a promising relationship ended after because she was jealous of Kate.
She wanted me to get rid of her picture from my wallet and mantelpiece. I refused, determined to keep Kate’s memory alive.
For all the setbacks, my confidence grew. Last year, I uploaded a better profile picture; women, I learned, like men to look moody.
Soon, I was inundated. And I’ve learned to be savvy.
One 45-year-old sent me a picture of herself six months ago posing stark naked in bed.
After staring at my screen wild-eyed in horror, I spotted a tiny tattoo of a tiger on her shoulder. It provided my get out clause. ‘I’m terribly sorry, I have a phobia of tattoos,’ I emailed.
For the past two months, I’ve been seeing a writer four years my senior. I’m hoping my search may be over. I have also written a book, How To Start Dating And Stop Waiting, which is being published on Valentine’s Day.
I still wear my wedding ring, and I’ll never forget my wife, but I’m happy again and, of that, she would be proud.
My wife caught me and moved out
Bill Addison, 67, is a retired aircraft engineer from Stockport, Cheshire. He and his former wife, Hazel, 66, a shop assistant, divorced in 2000. They have a son, Craig, 36, a web designer.
Although an online affair led to the demise of Bill’s marriage, he remains a dedicated internet dater.
With hindsight, it wasn’t the wisest confession. When I admitted to one of my dates — a retired divorcee in her 60s — that I’d cheated on my wife, she glared at me and spent the rest of the evening ranting about her ex-husband.
He’d been unfaithful too, apparently.
I sipped my drink in silence, wondering when I could leave.
Ironically, a cyber-affair led to my divorce. Hazel and I had been married for 26 years when, in 1999, I logged on to a dating chat room while at work.
For the previous two years, Hazel and I hadn’t made love. Our marriage was effectively dead and I was deeply unhappy, so I was delighted when a message pinged up from an American woman.
She was a voluptuous brunette and I was flattered. Six weeks later, I booked a flight to the States.
But before I was due to meet her, I accidentally left our messages up on our home computer screen. Hazel came downstairs brandishing printouts of the plans I’d made for my illicit week in New York.
Even though I never went to meet my online mistress, my wife moved out that night.
Five years later, after another unsatisfactory relationship, I was ready for romance again, so my son set me up on two free dating websites. I put up a profile picture of me looking smart in a suit.
I was hardly likely to meet a woman in a nightclub and I saw the internet as an acceptable alternative. But I wasn’t wide-eyed. If I could be unfaithful online, what was to stop anyone else?
My biggest problem has been the baggage women my age carry. Life experience has made many bitter, though perhaps given how I behaved in my marriage, it’s no surprise.
Otherwise, they seem to be looking for a replica of their last relationship. The widows are the worst. I spend so much time listening to how wonderful their recently dead husbands are, I end up feeling inadequate.
I’m realistic. I’m not expecting a goddess. I’d like a companion a couple of times a week — I’ll never live with a woman or marry again because I value my independence too much.
Unfortunately, all too many dates want a ring on their finger and I do not want that kind of commitment.
Four dates have ended up in bed; three after just one date. The women have all made the first move: I’m a gentleman and would never initiate sex, although I suspect they were only doing so to win my affection.
The build-up is rarely racy: one woman cooked me chicken casserole last month before kissing me on the sofa. The next morning, she made tea and I left with a spring in my step. But she, like all the others, wanted more commitment than I am willing to give and so it didn’t go any further.
(Link): Pro Ball Player Convicted for Kid Diddling Three Kids Claims to be an Outstanding Christian (and he’s married with a kid of his own) – again, why should Christian single gals limit themselves to only marrying Christian men? The Whole “Being Yoked Equally” thing is irrelevant and unduly limiting for singles