I went to the free clinic today to get STD testing done. Figured I should probably make absolute certain that I’m fresh for the new year after my unprotected romp with a promiscuous college student. The place has a hip name and fancy sign, and is near the campus where Sierra went to school. In spite of winter break, the parking lot and waiting room were packed with teens and twenty somethings, chatting and filling out forms on clipboards while pop music played over the sound system. I went to the front desk, and told them I needed STD testing, the “nurse” or, whatever she was, sitting there in her scrubs betrayed no surprise and handed me a white board marker and a small reusable form they use to get basic information for making an appointment. I made it for 2 pm, thanked them and ducked out.
Someone(s) are playing morality police and keep flagging my ads on CL for deletion. Can’t blame them I suppose. Particularly the ones looking for married women get taken down shortly after going up. If I’m a little more clever with my titles sometimes they are missed. Tinder seems to be a dead end. I’ve had 6 matches total, and only 3 have been real women, and all of those are unresponsive at this time. I decided to give OkCupid (OKC) a go. Took much longer to setup the profile which has multiple sections and lacks the strict character limits of Tinder. I just reused my faceless pics from Tinder, I have gotten some positive comments on them at least. My profile came off perhaps a bit too lighthearted and playful, but that seems to be the overall vibe of the site, so I’m satisfied with it for now. Already had a two ‘likes’ on it. My first match is a late 30’s gal from a couple of towns over. Not quite my type, but I may send her a message later, who knows after talking with her, perhaps we’ll mesh better than I think. One person already pounced on me and told me I should get a divorce. In any case, the selection seems to be good of attractive local women. I flipped through and liked probably three dozen of ’em. The only trend I could see is there are a ton of vegetarians and vegans on the site, and most of them seem to want to talk about how to make the world a better place. I suppose that is admirable, most bright eyed young people are idealists, after all, but many of these were older women from mid-twenties to late-forties. I generally get along well with liberals and conservatives (and anyone in between), so I figured this wouldn’t be a problem. I wanted to leave myself as open as possible, so I only answered profile questions about sex and left the lifestyle, religion, and politics sections empty for now.
As the morning wore on, I answered a w4m ad, turned out to be a transsexual. ‘She’ calls herself ‘Mommy’ and me, ‘Daddy’, and was begging me to come pound ‘her’ ass. Of course, I she had asked for a dick pic right away before I knew her real gender, so I sent one (Sierra had been the same way, big fan of the dick pics, but not Anne). Mommy was very insistent that she needed my huge cock to destroy her tight hole. And she sent me these very interesting pics to say the least. Mid-twenties, surprisingly feminine, really a piece of work to make a male look like that. Dressed in lingerie, long black hair, big round ass, thin. The arms though, definitely man arms, ugh. I have been getting pretty pent up lately, I did give it some thought. Never topped a man before, and I do kind of have a policy of try anything once, but I wasn’t very excited by this prospect even if it was the most feminine looking tranny I’d ever seen. All the same, I chatted with Mommy for a bit, for kicks. When she found out I was married she started to demand that I divorce the ‘bitch’ and launched into a tirade about her own parents that had stayed together when they were in a crappy marriage and totally screwed over her mind. I told Mommy I was sorry for her crappy home life, but to not assume everyone’s situation is the same as hers. That seemed to set her off, she seemed to think I was talking down to her and only thinking of her as some ‘dumb tranny slut’. I cut off contact, but she kept at it, I’m thinking it is part of some humiliation mind game she gets off on. In any case, definitely not for me. Of course, Mommy did get me thinking about divorce again. I certainly don’t want my son to have a bad home life. But divorce can have devastating consequences as well. It is hard to know what to do. I don’t want him twenty years from now ending up like Mommy. I mean, if he makes the conscious decision to switch his gender (or just become a cross dresser) and gets into humiliation mind games, more power to him I suppose, but in Mommy’s case it doesn’t seem very healthy. But, who am I to judge.
At 2 pm, I returned to the free clinic. This time, the place was nearly empty, they handed me form after form. Each one with more and more personal questions mining my medical, sexual, and financial information. It was like a ray of sunlight had broken through my shroud of secrecy, I felt naked, exposed as I filled out the forms. I wanted to lie, to scatter like a cockroach from the light, but I filled out the forms honestly. Me, my wife, my son, all our full names and ages. Full income information, employer, job title. Number of sexual partners over the past year: __ Male __ Female, and there I put it in record, jotting down a ‘3’ in each box, the butcher’s bill for the year. Percentage of time using condoms, I put 25. I was breathing a sigh of relief that each area had a confidentiality section, I checked off all the boxes that they couldn’t contact me at home, or by phone, only by email, and to keep all information confidential from my spouse. I smiled calmly as I turned in each form, I sensed slightly knowing looks from the staff. Finally, they told me to wait. I did some swiping on Tinder. A girl had stopped in and sat in the corner waiting, a young guy who’d been waiting got called up and went back. They called me back up the counter.
“It looks like you’d have to pay out of pocket for all services. Are you sure about your income?”
“I should have brought in a pay stub, pretty sure.”
“You are really close to having all services covered by the county, what is your net income instead of gross? And you have a family of three, right?”
“Right, $– a month.”
“Thanks, I’ll just put that down, we don’t check anyways.”
Well that was nice, though I’m sure it helps if they don’t have to deal with payments from the customer. After that, they got me an official county health services card and had me pee in a cup, then off to the room in back for my counseling session. Pretty short, just asked me if I need any additional health and family planning information before asking me if I had any symptoms (no) and then telling me about the STD tests and how soon I’d have results. They stuck my finger for HIV and hepatitis B (I think) and I sat and waited 20 minutes for the results, both negative. The other tests would all be done from my urine sample in two weeks. They’d only call if anything was positive. But I figured I’d call and check just to be sure. Apparently, I can also use my health card now to get free condoms, what a deal.
“Well, at least you don’t have HIV or hep-B,” I said as I sat down in the driver’s seat.
“Of course… I’m not a slut,” Sierra said from the passenger seat, I could feel her smile.
I started the motor and drove back to work alone leaving her phantom behind, hopefully for good. It has been the longest year in memory.