The Internet and social media have forever changed the world of modern dating. So much information’s available on the World Wide Web. There are also many tools that one can use to manipulate the mood and mental state from the object of their desire.

I was guilty of such practices. It started out as a simple experiment. I had visited the more popular Internet dating sites many times. Honesty, it was usually the same common computer love crowd - recycled. Maybe, a few new people popped into the rows of older, perfect pictures to be selected like a pet in a virtual kennel.

I always had my doubts about the Net. I thought it couldn’t be any different than real world relationships. It was hard for everyone out there. Some people were more gifted when it came to face-to-face courtship. Other had the affliction of shyness. I had attended the school of do’s and don’t when talking to the fairer sex at an early age with a B minus.

Who made these rules?

All the rules seem to go out of the window, when a keyboard was brought into the picture and loneliness leaned over one shoulder on a Friday night. Cat Fishing was nothing new to me. I had engaged in the practice long before the infamous documentary.

It was a way for me to test the ladies I had met online - to see if they swung the other way. It was also very valuable to gain inside information that could be used in the future. It worked. I created a profile of a sexy African American woman interested in meeting a woman for friendship and possible relationship.

I discovered through my past research females have it much easier on the Net, than men when it came to finding mates. My new computerized persona secretly prodded the people who peaked my interest. It was virtual cliff notes on the individuals, so when I contacted them as myself, it was easier to find common ground.

On one occasion, I contacted a lady first as myself and then as the woman profile. While as the man I wrote the usual, ‘you’re so beautiful, I would like to meet you, blah blah blah.’ The cyber courtship went on and off for a period of two years with little success. It was not until the fake, bisexual, female profile the romance started.

I hit her up and asked if she was into women. My love interest had experimented a few times as an Undergrad at Long Beach State. Only kissing and playing, but it had never gone beyond the point of no return. Arousal invaded my lower regions, yet my real profile stayed the consummate gentleman. At first, I didn’t strike her fancy.

One night I asked (female profile) if she was interested in anyone. She said, ‘yes. This guy, but he’s really not my type.’ Again, with my female persona I convinced her to give me (him) a chance. A few minutes afterward, I asked her for several nude pictures, which she emailed without haste. The small, petite woman was on her knee in front of a full-length mirror – stark naked staring awkwardly into the camera.

The next night, I asked her out on a date and she agreed. She text my female persona and told her she was going on the date with Mister Not My Type. I (she) said go for it! Good luck.

The date went very well that night. We got along beautifully. She was funny and engaging with a winning personality. We clicked automatically. After the date, we executed a perfect a make out session in the parking garage, before I watched her tail lights head back to Culver City.

The next morning, I contacted her with my female profile and inquired about the date. She liked me (man) and claimed it went better than expected. I asked, ‘if she would go on another date.’

She said, “If he asked me.”

I asked (woman) if she did threesomes. My new Internet friend claimed to have almost had one in Hermosa Beach with a nerdy boy who co-owned a liquor store. They returned to his room and tried to lure his brother's girlfriend into lewd possibilities. They failed but she wanted to try again.

That teased my imagination. Again, I asked her out and she said yes. I took her to the same spot and things went well. The next day I hit her up (woman), asked if she desired sex with him (me). My Internet date said ‘yes.’ I had her - Checkmate.

We went out for a drink at a local bar. I soaked in her small, hard body that she kept by running. My date owned a nice pair of lips and used them well. Her breasts were small but sharp, her face simple pretty and streamed the sexiest mouse-like laughter.

We had the mutual love for the drink, knocking them back – shot after shot. After the bar, I convince her to come back to my green bungalow in the Barrios of San Pedro. I knew sex was in the future, if I didn’t do anything crazy or drop the ball in a major way. If lucky we were visiting my queen size love machine in a matter of minutes.

During an intense petting session, the clothes fell off and the slapping of skin commenced. In the early morning with the sun hiding behind the pre-dawn moon, we walked to her car parked in dark sketchy areas.

We dated for a few months doing the usually newbie couple things. I hung around Culver City much more than usual. She never came to San Pedro again, except for student Quienceneria as my guest. That night we visited a strip club in Orange County. It rested in a dark industrial park off the 91 Freeway. The interior lacked patronage and the stripper’s attitudes were cold, while the beer expensive.

She initiated a conversation with an older, blonde MILF, but it never went anywhere. We left for the Norms in Torrance. We had pancakes, and then went back to her house for early morning intercourse. The dating continued for a few more weeks but distance came between us. I tried to hook her up with another girl from the Net and even had them exchanged numbers. She called several times, but they never connected.

I discovered her ex-boyfriend was coming by unannounced. I didn’t like that. I pried with the (female profile) about him. It turned out they were at one time the ultimate couple. She fallen in love - the only problem - he had three secret children. They broke up, but he could not leave her alone. That was a bright red flag waving in my face. I had a feeling they were still having sex.

A week later I felt the buffer between us growing and became concerned. We were getting along well at first and I wanted it to last longer. My ego was destined to take a KO punch. I asked her again via my (Bi sexual black woman profile) how things were going. Turned out she was into me, but I could not make her cum.

She needed rough sex. Slapping. Choking.

Intercourse had transformed into contact sport without my knowledge. I felt like a virgin, not aware women liked to be assaulted during lovemaking sessions. Inferiority invaded me. Arguments become more frequent and I began dating another woman as an emotional safe guard.

The Fourth of July fell on a weekend. My roommate threw the worst cook out possible and invited people I instantly despised. We feasted on horrible Jerk Chicken, drank cheap beer, but smoked the best weed ever. I called her high while high out of my mind, exited through the front door and drove to Culver City - floating.

She wanted to see me. This time I had ever intention of making her orgasm. We went to her room and I gave it the old sportsman try. My goal – break her walls! She was 5’3 and I am 6’2 and gave it everything I had, but failed to bring her to climax.

The bed hit the wall like mini earthquakes. Her facial expression was that of a woman in deep thought about tax forms and prime time TV. My ego was shattered. I eased out of the relationship slowly. The sex fell short. Slowly we stopped communicating.

Later that year, she traveled back to the Bay Area to visit her family. Another small argument ensued from nowhere. Maybe guilt. Maybe pride. My worlds crossed - the female and male persona become one - tragically human. The trick backfired in the worse way. Too much information poisoned my self-confidence. The things woman hid to protect the male ego stared me in the eye.

The (male profile) broke up with her, but I kept in contact as the (female.) My new Ex-girlfriend found a short well endowed, dude from Inglewood who brought her the pain she desired. I was told in detail how she receive the ten inches and it felt so good. She then recruited female (me) to join them in a threesome. I (we) declined.

After a few months she relocated to her hometown in Bay and proceeded to get hooked on Cocaine. I stalked her Facebook page. She looked in great shape, but I didn’t know if those were recent pictures. I guess that’s the way Digital Love was…