“What’s wrong with sluts? If sluttiness is what you like, what’s wrong with that? Why do we think being a slut’s bad? Sluttiness is just a lot of freedom.” – Tom Ford
First and foremost dear readers, apologies for my absence. Although I’d like to say it was due to some muscled stud keeping me bedded and dehydrated for the past week, it wasn’t. But the truth behind my absence is a story for another day.
Today’s subject matter is close to my heart.
I hear you muttering, ‘That’s hardly surprising for you at Met Another Frog.’
But I’m speaking of a particular type of sex – first date sex. The fumbling, bumbling, and misdirected exploration of first date sex. This is a new and shiney beast for me over the last few years, and it’s not because I have recently become mores slutty than before (if anything I might have mellowed a tad). You see, I only really started dating once I arrived in Toronto. My life in London didn’t include dating. Very few of my friends ever went on dates, and none of my flings, fuck buddies or one night stands were the result of dating. (I have supplied a diagram and further explanation, or if you’re feeling keen you can pick up a copy of Asses to Asses, Bust to Bust, to read more on my love of all things casual sex.)
First dates can range from the sublime to the surreal, but regardless I am hoping to get laid at the end of it all. If there’s a bit of a spark or I have a bit of an itch, then we are finishing the evening post-coital.
To me first dates have become a form of extended foreplay – something a bit more verbal, but foreplay nonetheless. I find it difficult to actually focus on what he’s saying when I am trying to work out what he looks like naked or how skilled he might be at cunnilingus. Therefore it might actually be best if we shagged on arrival and then went out for dinner (having worked up an appetite too) so I could be slightly more attentive.
To be honest, it doesn’t bother me what the chap thinks of “how slutty” I might be to put out on a first date. The truth is I am slutty, I love sex and I have slept with a lot of people. So why pretend otherwise?
Oh actually – there have been occasions when I have pretended otherwise. This is the “please be gentle” or “I think I might be out of practice” pretence. (Often begun with the statement “I really don’t do this sort of thing often.”)
Why you ask? Why would such a self proclaimed activist of a slut as Miss Rose try to hide her true colours? Surely not from shame?
You are quite right – not from shame. It’s just role play. In my extensive field research I have noticed there is a certain kind of guy who is a lot more attentive during foreplay (i.e. he actually bothers with some) if he feels you need “warming up”. Whereas if he knows naked is your default setting and sex your specialist subject he doesn’t always lay the groundwork. For this special kind of chap…
Elizabeth Rose is our boarding school educated English rose by day and unabashed slut by night. She takes pride in her “work” and wishes to share her feminist rantings and lessons in bedroom etiquette with the wider world.