The bad thing about kicking a vice is the relapse and the fact that I told people I was kicking. “Oh we’ve heard that before, I’ll believe it when I see it.” These are the kinds of things my friends said when I told them I was going into Craig’s List re-hab. Bastards are always right. Fucking Craig’s List, damn you! For me CL is a vice, a compulsion, an addiction, potentially as harmful as any drug addiction, and far more time consuming in the long run. I will post an ad maybe two, and then have a run with that post, email and pics, sexual innuendos back and forth, meet, fuck, suck, maybe meet again. Then I become disgusted with myself, claim I am kicking, then a month will pass, maybe even two, and there I am again looking for on-line cock.

Having lived in SF for twelve years now, I realize of those, eight of them I have been on off CL. I remember clearly the first guy I ever met. He was way too young for me, a baby, still had that acne blushed skin. I met him during my lunch hour at my place, knowing my husband would not be there, our marriage was over by this time, it was just those unbearable days between over and leaving. When I pulled up to my little alley apartment, the kid was already there, waiting impatiently, pacing, and sweating. Of course he looked nothing like his picture; he probably weighted a good 50 lbs. more than he claimed. I knew instantly I didn’t want to do it, so I did it. I led him into my apartment, laid him on my bed, unbuttoned his pant, and ran my cheek around the front of his white cotton boxers. I reached in and pulled his boyish pink cock out and placed my lips around the tip, one slide down and he filled my mouth with his milky cum. That quick, my first CL encounter was over. Shaking my head, I accepted his apology and kicked him out.

Since then it has been eight years worth of CL fun, crazy, clinically insane, secret cross dressers, bend-over boyfriends, chat only, wrestle me down and sit my face, OCD, phone sex, rough alley lovin’, meet me in the parking lot, fuck me on the muni, will you fuck all three of us, I just want to watch– men in my life. After the breakup of my marriage I was pretty obsessed with the whole thing, and while yes it was a painful time in my life I was still working under the guise that I could kill the pain with booze and cock. Honestly—I guess I still sometimes think that, not in a logical way, but in a–why am I so fucking lonely tonight kind of way.

After becoming involved with the gangster my Craig’s List antics settled down. Our turbulent love story was enough for me. The way we fought, the way we fucked, the way we shared our deep hidden selves to each other was always tumultuous, filled with fire. A complete destructive passion. Who needs Craig’s List when you got that?

However; when I finally overcame the gangster and started living again, I turned to Craig for some cock and booze, well just for the cock, I can get my own booze. Actually I had this notion of trying to find a boyfriend. Laughable, I tell ya, I am nowhere in the position to have such a relationship, even if that were truly what I wanted. It’s one of my big internal dichotomies (I’m working on it). I went on hundreds of dates that year and nothing ever panned out. The first ad I posted had a tag line that read “damaged goods,” I got about 300 responses; about 200 were cock shots, the rest were vultures. I changed my approach, dated for the year, and then I switched gears. Nixed the “damaged goods” talk and replaced it with sexuality.

I began to only use the Casual Encounters section in my search for random encounters of cock. This plan was far more successful, let’s just say a girl can certainly get her fill. But the fill is fleeting, fulfillment has never come for me from CL. Temporary fulfillment in getting filled, yes, long term mental/sexual fulfillment no. Like a drug addiction it often leaves me quite depressed in the aftermath. So I kick, I tell my friend, “I mean it this time, I’m done, it’s all the same men, it’s all the same dick, it’s all the same lonely lonely people, including me.” They nod, like the many times they have heard it before. I will stop for awhile, this last time I did not post for a month and before that it was almost three month, but then I get restless, bored, and find myself posting another ad.

I have had two very bad experiences with posting. One a retaliation situation, of guy I dumped and he sort of cyber stalked/sabotaged me via CL. The second was when I posted an ad to meet a girl. Basically I was roasted for not choosing one sex over the other and for not being experienced with women as much. It was bad; I felt shame, loneliness, and my virtual cup was so empty. I have the ultimate love hate with CL, it is like I am in a relationship with Craig’s List as opposed to another human being. I love that thrill of posting, waiting for someone to respond, what will win me over to meet one rather than another, their cock or their wit? My best CL relationships are with those men I never meet, the ones who become online lovers, friends, comrades, and sweet I love you companions—ah but simultaneously these relations, have a sever draw back. Such as I am never going to get to feel the way your cock slides into me, or the way you cum inside me, or hear the sound you make as my lips sink around your beam, or the way your pre-cum drops taste, or the way you make me come—and that kills me, but not as much as losing these relationship would. I think, or is that what I think? (I’m working on it.)

So…anyway I am off the wagon again, I did not last in CL rehab, not even a month.This time my tag line read I need a nerd. Looking for nerdy brain with big cock to help set up my new computer and who wont judge me for the content of my hard drive.