Slut Shaming and Girl Guilt, two new phrases I've recently come across

Browsing Facebook on my phone one evening I came across The Sexademic's blog on girl guilt linked by a friend. Fascinated, I popped on my wi-fi and read from the snuggly comfort of my bed. Being someone who is ridiculously comfortable with her sexuality, feeling guilty after an encounter never really crossed my mind. It made me think, though, of the double-standard that is omnipresent in our society:  women are not allowed to be sexual beings in their own right, only if it serves the purpose to titillate others, and even then, they are looked down upon as sluts, whores, and loose women.

Whoa! The man-stealer, the super predator is going hardcore feminist? Fear not, but there are important issues that need to be addressed. We are far too advanced a society to to keep living under antiquated, patriarchal rules about gender roles. We've made so many strides in the acceptance of the sexuality of others (I know, I know, my US readers, we still have many strides to make) and women still have to feel ashamed to have sex? Horseshit, I say. But it is an unfortunate truth, and The Sexademic states it so eloquently:

But in a culture that legitimizes disrespect to females having sex outside of a committed relationship, how can it? I wish I could say the blatant hypocrisy of a male passing judgment on a female he slept with was enough to erase some sense of girl guilt, but when the larger culture agrees how can those actions not still sting?

So what is slut shaming? According to Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog, slut shaming is:

the idea of shaming and/or attacking a woman or a girl for being sexual, having one or more sexual partners, acknowledging sexual feelings, and/or acting on sexual feelings. Furthermore, it’s “about the implication that if a woman has sex that traditional society disapproves of, she should feel guilty and inferior” (Alon Levy, Slut Shaming). It is damaging not only to the girls and women targeted, but to women in general an society as a whole. It should be noted that slut-shaming can occur even if the term “slut” itself is not used.

After reading the anecdotal section of The Sexademic's post on girl guilt, I remember my days in school, where girls who showed any self confidence and sexuality were immediately called sluts, even if they barely knew what sex was. The boys though, were allowed to express their sexual prowess. It makes me wonder, though, if girls are automatically labeled and shunned as sluts because of earlier maturation. Has biology, in and of itself, shamed us?

So why do I call myself The Slut You Never Knew? Most people that know me in real life, know me as a somewhat shy woman who wears low-cut shirts to show off her ta-tas and may flirt a little, but is hopelessly in love with Number 1. Most people in my life don't know that I hunt and prey on the dissatisfied married man, therefore I am the unsuspecting slut, the surprise in the cereal box of sexuality. I use it not as a negative term, but as an easily identifiable adjective to facilitate the understanding of my sexuality to the world. I feel no guilt for what I do, for flirting with, seducing, and having sex with married men. I feel no shame for keeping boys in my back pocket for a booty call.

It is hard enough, in this society, to be female. Keeping with the habit of making women feel bad for being sexual beings has got to stop. I highly encourage reading both the blogs I linked to, especially Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog, which goes much more in depth into the societal ramifications of slut shaming and its link to rape and sexual violence. This is me on my soap box. Back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Exploring sexuality

I've had this great entry planned out in my head for a while now but haven't had the energy to write it out. I'll get to it. I have a ridiculously easy work week next week so I'll have plenty of time. I've really been enjoying writing this blog and have gotten some positive feedback from my readership, which is awesome. I encourage you all to comment, start discussions, and follow; I'll definitely keep writing as long as I have material to write about!

Let's talk about sexuality a bit. Since I was a freshman in college I've known I was attracted to girls. My dream girl looks like Dita von Teese and all the pin up girls of the 1940's, so finding the ultimate girl is out of the question in my neck of the woods. Imagine my surprise when I ended up in an arms-and-legs tangle with a girl that was not my "type." Yes, after so many years without a single lesbian experience (not even a kiss!) I ended up in a 3-way with another girl and my (male) roommate. Having your face in a vagina for the first time is an experience. A learning experience. Not unpleasant, but being a greedy lover, I like having the attention. She and I have had sex several times now (always in a 3-way) and it's getting more and more fun. She sure do got a purty mouth.

And with that teaser, I bid you, my faithful readership, adieu.

My boys

After a conversation with a friend last night I thought I'd elaborate on some previous musings about emotional attachment. While I don't seek commitment from any of them, I do get to know them as people; I have never fucked a random stranger. Knowing my boys as people, I get fiercely protective of them.

Case in point: the friend I had sex with a couple of weeks ago. We decided to keep things as friends because conversations were going too far into the realm of relationship (and apparently friends without benefits, which is a shame because the man can do amazing things with his hands and mouth). I ended up texting him last night because we haven't talked much now that we work different shifts at work and found out that he had recently fooled around with his ex girlfriend.

This girl, in the 6 months I had known him on our previous shift had treated him like shit. She ignored him, flew off the handle at the littlest things, would show no affection toward him, and dumped him twice. So when he told me he had fooled around with her, I saw red. I told him to run away and not fall into her trap again. I told him if she hurt him again i'd end her.

What I'm getting at is: don't fuck with my boys. I don't care if I have a current sexual relationship with them at the time or not. You mess with my boys and I WILL find a way to destroy you. I can not stand dumb bitches that just want to toy with a man and hurt him. Some may fast that's what I do, but it's not. I'm always honest with them as far as where they stand.

Don't fuck with my boys. I've got their backs.

The silly articles people write

After writing my post earlier today I was boredly browsing Yahoo! news When I came across this article about the supposed signs of a cheater (or potential cheater). Of course, this article is primarily aimed at the paranoia of women already in fragile relationships looking for any excuse to point fingers. Like women never cheat. But I digress. As someone having experience with cheaters, I thought I'd put my perspective on the article.

Sign #1: Your sweetie keeps you a secret from his/her family and friends. Maybe he/she has a terrible family and is embarrassed of them? Maybe they think their buddies too crass? Sometimes people don't want to tote their significant other around everywhere.

Sign #2: Your sweetie is emotionally absent. If you're with someone emotionally absent and you expect to have a serious relationship, you should reevaluate. Or just not get involved with someone that is emotionally detached, if you've known them for a while. That's just building yourself up for heartbreak, anyway.

Sign #3: Your sweetie says he or she wants a no-strings-attached romance. This is a big one for me. I make this very clear: I don't want commitment. Ladies, if you think you can "fix" a guy that tells you this, you're, well, you're dumb. And you're building yourself up for a lot of disappointment and heartbreak. When we say we don't want commitment, believe us.

Sign # 4: Your sweetie admits to cheating on exes — and justifies the betrayals. Hello/? Red flag? I need not comment on this, aside from repeating the above "don't try to fix this person."

Sign #5: Your sweetie has never been without a mate. Some people are serial monogamists. Some people are just afraid of being alone. This doesn't necessarily make a cheater. Sorry.

Sign #6: Your sweetie tells lies about little things. Who doesn't lie? Jesus.

Sign #7: Your sweetie brags about his or her ability to attract others. Oh so what? It's you he/she is going home with. Some of us can just attract others naturally, and enjoy the attention, but it doesn't necessarily mean that we're cheaters. Some people attract people without trying, others do make an effort, but in the end, it's really not what makes a cheater.

Alright, off my soap box. I've been stewing over this article all day and it's dumbassery. I still have a bigger post I want to make eventually based off a different website I found just casually browsing (I was actually trying to get my blog to come up in a Google search).

The vicious cycle

I have officially been found via search engine! Welcome, readership! I hope you find the insight here that you're looking for.

It's been a rough past few days that was topped off by a migraine so I apologize that I have been remiss in writing. One of the rough spots of my weekend was the friend I had sex with. We had to have a Difficult Conversation about the viability of a relationship between the two of us. While I like him and he apparently likes me a lot, we realized that my lifestyle, my very personality, would prevent any successful relationship between us. A bit bittersweet. Here's how our conversation went:

Him: I know you've become accustomed to this lifestyle, but I could make you happy and give you what you need so you don't need other men.
Me: It's not the sex I seek out. It's the hunt, the chase, the attention, the accomplishment. I would hurt you. It's in my nature.

While I would love a relationship, yearn for it, I don't have the heart to actually hurt someone. I know, through a lot of introspection, that this is who I am. I am a man-stealer, a predator. The anxiety I get over hurting an innocent person because of who I am makes me keep everyone at arm's length so they don't get too close. Am I lonely? Yes. Does it suck, oh hell yes. It's funny, isn't it? A slut with morals.

What's funny is that apparently everyone on our old production team at work knows now that he and I fucked. We blew their timeline out of the water; they thought it had been happening much longer. Ha. Assholes. But, those are the risks inherent in fucking a coworker.

My albatross

From bed
I know I have been remiss in posting lately. The life of a slut can sometimes get complicated if emotions get involved. Anyway, I think I may post a little later on about the single boys I play with. For now, I'm going to drink a red bull and praise this blogger app for android that allows me to post from bed. ;)

Milestones

My first dalliance with a married man happened a few months ago. Innocently enough, talking about food, which resulted in my visiting his workplace to pick up some game meat (yum). While I can't specifically remember how the conversation turned to sex, I'm pretty sure it had something to do with my boobs. This particular person I know from my local prowling grounds: the bowling center. I have a proclivity for wearing very low-cut shirts in order to distract the competition in a very male-dominated sport. But I digress. The first comments may have been something like "I like the view when you bend over" or some such.

As per the norm, the conversations and flirting happened all via text. The Interview, if you will, to my business transaction. His fetish? Cum. A woman's cum. I do appreciate a man who gives oral.

My memories are a little hazy, but I know I didn't balk at his married status. I did say to him "aren't you married?" to which is reply was "yes. So?" I let it roll off my back. If he wanted to cheat on his wife, so be it. I wasn't going to tell her. It's not my place.

Old age must have me, because I honestly can't remember if it was on my day off or a snow day from work (I'm inclined to say snow day, it's been a harsh winter) that he came over for the first time. I felt a bit awkward, to tell the truth; he came in, took his shoes off, pet the cats. We talked agriculture while he followed me to my bedroom. The clothes didn't come off right away. He kissed me (note to future lovers, I don't like a lot of tongue), played with my boobs... and eventually undressed me so he could get me laid back, when he knocked over a stack of shoeboxes and shoes (this annoyed me, by the way, because I had rearranged everything so that there would be room) to lick me from stem to stern (or however that phrase goes). Very good oral skills, by the way. Penetration, however, was disappointing. We're working on that. Stamina is not every man's forte.

Now, the awkward part? He decided to lay there while I was dripping cum and talk. Back to talk about agriculture. How do you politely say "I'm done, now get the fuck out"?

The Borg collective

Last night I had my first full-on sexual encounter with a man I had been friends with for several months and we had an interesting conversation about my sexual proclivities.

I had started the habit of-- in order to avoid names and be discreet-- numbering my lovers like they were drones in my own personal Borg collective. It's quite insensitive, I know. With the change of lovers, it's not so easy to keep track via numbering any more. But perhaps they aren't just notches in my belt.

More to come...

The business transaction

As I prepare (note: drink my first cup of coffee for the day in my underwear at 1pm EST) for my evening in which I will see two of my boys in a casual setting, I thought about the initial stages of an affair in which I get to know my prey. "Prey?" you ask with a raised eyebrow. Well yes, if Cosmo has any say in it.

One interest is established, communication usually starts with text messages, because anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely abhor talking on the phone. Text messaging is also preferable, because I can ask questions, we can dirty talk, and exchange pictures without the awkwardness and blushing of in-person communication. It's awkward, if you've never cheated before and you're trying to arrange a rendezvous with another woman. I try to make them as comfortable as possible.

Texting also allows me to gather vital information:

• What is it that your wife/girlfriend isn't doing/won't do for you?
• What fetishes do you have?
• Do you have any fantasies that you'd like acted out?
• What drew you to me?

So maybe the last question is a bit of narcissism, but I was thinking this over last night on my drive home over icy roads and realized, I approach this like a business transaction. Perhaps this is what makes me different from other "Other Women:" I offer a service. A soft body to touch, an eager cunt to fuck. Privacy, discretion, and no strings attached. By learning their interests, I am able to customize experiences for my guys. You like a girl in high heels? I have a ton. Corsets and bustiers? I  can do that. 69ing? I will. Just want a hard fuck? Oh yes.

It really is a shame it's not legal to accept money. I could be rich by now. Open a brothel and train more like me. Haha... I'll keep my day job.

The rules

Apologies for any formatting issues or weird typos in advance; I'm using the email feature and I'm not sure how much of a success it will be. After sitting in a computer chair all day at work, I really wanted to blog without hauling out my gargantuan laptop (woe is me, I just HAD to have the wide screen gaming laptop) but I digress...

I thought tonight I'd go over the initial conversations I have with my guys once I know that there is interest. I like order and structure, so I have some guidelines.

1. I am not your girlfriend. We are not dating.
2. You are not the only man that graces my bed.
3. Don't show up unannounced at my house.
4. Be discreet. You want to  cheat on your wife/girlfriend? Fine. Keep your yap shut. Bragging and/or telling others is only going to get your stupid ass in trouble.

Simple guidelines, right? #1 seems to be the one men ignore. I do hate having to be harsh and have the "I'm not your girlfriend" conversation. I've had to have out a few times. The clingers eventually fall out of my good graces and eventually find their way out of my bed. Not that I'm insensitive, but I try to make myself as clear as possible that I'm not girlfriend material. I'm a mistress, nothing more.

Number 1

So how did I come to this path in life, dallying with the taken man? I assure you, I had my romantic notions of one man, one woman, and happily ever after. Ironically, it was that beginning, the monogamous relationship that got me started. See, I was a woman in love. Engaged, ready to live my life with the man that I loved. Things changed, and we ended up breaking up despite being very much in love. It was complicated.

He started dating someone new, and one night, lonely and horny, he started to flirt. I ended up going over that night after work and giving him a blowjob. Whenever she wasn't there (he was living in my old apartment at the time, so I still had a key) I would go and there would be intense sex and I would go home, reeking and walking funny. This carried on for his entire relationship with the girlfriend (who, incidentally, cheated on him).

Starting out like this I was ruled by my heart; there was no thrill of the hunt, no rush of the taboo. To this date, he's the only one I sincerely wished would leave her for me. While we are friends, and the occasional fuckbuddies, we are not together. Maybe it's for the best. Ultimately, he was the catalyst to my seeing the otherwise taken man. In entries to follow, there will be anecdotal reminiscences and various musings of my position as the other woman. For tonight, just this small tidbit. Keep tuned.

The Catalyst

I've been contemplating writing this blog for a long time, but it was a page-long article in the March 2011 issue of Cosmopolitan that acted as the catalyst. Browsing my latest issue, lounging on my bed after a long day at work I skimmed through the articles, the fashion editorials, delved into the embarrassing stories section. And then there it was: "Stop a Man Stealer in Her Tracks."

Oh? Really now? I knew this was going to be interesting. It was only after gales of laughter that had my roommate ask "what the hell is so funny?"  that I decided, I have to blog about being a man stealer.

Feeding on the insecurities of women, the article uses such strong language as "super-predator" and states that:

"'The opportunist may try to win your man's affection during a weak moment, but she doesn't have the confidence to hit on him outright'... As long as your bond is strong and supportive, most boyfriends won't take the loser bait."

Loser bait, eh? Okay, Cosmo, and your expert, Seth Meyers, PsyD, listen here. This is my perspective on things, being one of these predators, these man stealers. Yes, I am a predator. Yes, I will look for an opportunity to swoop if presented. But moment of weakness or no, if I want someone, I will get them. A smile, the sway of my hips, my long hair and ample curves are man-magnets. Yes, the chase, the hunt is fun, I cannot lie.

So, what makes me different from other man stealers, predators and mistresses? Here's my thing: I don't want your man. Sure, I want to have fun, want to give him what you're not giving him or that he's too afraid to ask you for. I find out right away, when sighting my target, what they're lacking and wanting. Maybe they're wanting the excitement of a risk, maybe sex is too vanilla, or-- gasp-- maybe he's just bored. Ladies, I will always make it clear that I don't want your man. I will never ask him to leave you for me, but understand in the entries to come what fuels me to prey, what fuels your man to cheat. I'm not the monster society would make me out to be.