When I was going through my divorce, I met Cat Ladyman on one of those online dating sites — Plenty of Flakes or OKStupid.

I was taking my three-year-old daughter to the Huckleberry Festival, and he met me there. He had a son the same age, so why not make things extra complicated?

After a few hours of melting in the sweltering heat, he invited me to his house. He was super cute and had an aboveground pool. So, again, why not?

The house was funky — a 1970s feel and a jacuzzi in the master bedroom. It looked like something out of a retro porn movie. It could have been an actual set if not for the cat hair (and stank).

He had four cats, and there was hair fucking EVERYWHERE! I don’t understand having four of anything: four cars, four homes, four kids, four dogs, and especially four freakin’ cats! The pool, however, looked amazing, so I decided to overlook this oddity.

After a brief dip, I put my daughter down in his son’s room for a nap while Cat Ladyman set his boy up with an iPad. Then he and I crept down to the basement and made out like horny teenagers. He was a very passionate kisser — a bit too much tongue, but whatever. He licked and teased my hard nipples, peeking them in and out of my bikini top. I was getting so wet.

Right on cue, he slid my bikini bottoms to the side, played with my clit, and started finger-banging me. I came so hard with his two fingers inside me hitting just the right spot. That was right about the time I heard my daughter’s voice from upstairs. I went into Mommy mode, leaving him scrambling for his shorts while I shot upstairs.

There would be no interruptions for our next date: just me, him, and a few loads of laundry. (It’s amazing how appealing wine and a washer/dryer combo is to a single mom.) I did a few loads in the cat room next to the creepy cat condo while he cooked us dinner. The whole scene reminded me of a Stephen King story. I finished the laundry and went to join my date in the kitchen for dinner and too many glasses of wine.

After my third glass of Riesling he led me to his bedroom. He slowly undressed me, kissing my neck and sucking on my tits while rubbing my clit through my wet panties. Taking control, I made my way down to his hard cock standing at attention. I circled my tongue around the head and up and down his shaft until he declared that it was time to fuck or he would explode.

I slipped my panties off and he entered me slowly at first… then he rammed me so fast I had high school flashbacks. Thankfully, I was able to get off by rubbing myself and thinking of someone else. He pounded me a few more times, screamed that he was coming, then rolled off me, breathless and satisfied. Glad one of us was impressed.

I rolled over and happened to notice something in the corner of his closet. Was it a mask? “What the fuck is that?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s Betty,” he said, without the slightest trace of irony or humor. “Would you like meet her?”

Betty had been watching us the whole time. Now, I’m no prude by any stretch, but Cat Ladyman’s blowup doll — deflated, rumpled, and sad in the closet, just staring — creeped me the fuck out. Was it a leftover souvenir from a bachelor party? A gag gift for his birthday? Or did he really blow this damn thing up and fuck it?

We fizzled out quickly after that, but I’m still pulling cat hair out of my laundry.