This quarantine was screwing with my mind. Frankly, mind-fucked was the only kind of fucking I’ve had in over three months. If someone had told me that a two-story, four-bedroom house could feel claustrophobic, I wouldn’t have believed them. I was sure as hell a believer now. I knew I’d hit the bottom of boredom when I cleaned, labeled, and put canisters in my refrigerator and my walk-in pantry. It had taken two days, but I hadn’t felt that accomplished in a month.
Usually, the end of a school year brought me more joy than I could put into words, but it was 2020, and nothing was normal or usual anymore. When the buzz of a pandemic started swirling around, I was on what would become my last vacation. I don’t think I would’ve turned down a casual hook-up with Keith before heading to the airport if I knew then what I know now. Keith and I had no potential as a couple. I suppose we both knew it and it was why he’d ended it. It was more like losing a good friend, who offered consistent and reliable sex. It was hardly burning the room down with passion with us though. I didn’t typically have regrets, but I was at the stage in quarantine where I ceased being good-natured about the whole damn thing, and I was ultimately one hundred percent wrapped up in self-pity and regret.
The stink of pity didn’t look or smell good on anyone though. So, I needed to get out, and I needed to get laid. Unfortunately, I was living in the Mayberry of Japan. Mayberry may have been fictional, but every time I went onto the base to pick up my mail or go to the commissary, I expected to see Barney, Opie, Andy, or Aunt Bee around every corner.
It’s been months since I’ve been able to travel. I had no grounds for complaints though, not really. Everyone in the world was in the same position, so there’s nothing that made my situation special, nothing except my boredom, my singlehood, and my overactive libido.
I’d been living in Japan for almost two years when the world got thrown off its axis. At the start, I kept telling myself that this would pass. Enjoy the extra time off, I told myself. Three months off early from school, and I would likely be back stateside by mid-summer. Mid-summer was about when I started climbing the walls mentally.
My sister didn’t believe that the same dating apps that worked at home worked here in Japan. Hell, there was even a group on FetLife of locals into kink. This new website was bananas, though. Folks would capitalize off anything, including a global pandemic. I couldn’t wait until the site caught fire and there was a news story about it. I could hear the creator now.
“I was lonely and depressed and just wanted someone who could help me get through it all. The other sites always have folks focused on the future, but I knew I wanted something focused on right now. The idea came to me as I made myself cum. Poetic, right?”
If I was looking for something serious, I could find it. If I was looking for a kink, I could find it. And, if I was looking to get my ass pounded into the mattress, I could find it. I constantly reminded my students that Google couldn’t be trusted for accurate information on everything, but secretly I knew I was lying to them. You could literally Google and find anything. Periodically I would send my sister snapshots of the more colorful posts and profiles just to prove I was right.
Daddy Abroad is found exclusively in the