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Slut Like Me
You’d never know from looking at me that I used to be a slut.
Actually, "used to be" is just a technicality, because even though I’ve been married for eight years, and have never cheated on my husband, I still pretty much consider myself a slut. After all, the key definition of a slut is somebody who’s sexually available, and I’m still available, even if it is only for the guy I married. He wakes up in the morning and knocks on the bedroom wall, and I bring him a cup of coffee and a blowjob.
The blowjob thing is important when you’re setting the definition of a slut. I figured this out several years ago, when a group of girlfriends were comparing notes on how they rationed out the blowjobs. Some saved them for special occasions; others used them as a sort of currency, trading them for goods and services (e.g., "I told Marvin if he fixed that hole in the bathroom wall, I’d give him a blowjob").
I remember thinking that this was a pretty novel idea – and one that never would have occurred to me. I’d always just given blowjobs for the hell of it. I was taken aback at the realization of what this meant – namely, that in my circle of friends, I was the slut.
Well, okay, there may have been other indicators. Like the fact that I once tried to tally up the number of people I’d had sex with and lost count at…well, a really high number. Or the fact that I once saw my own name scrawled on a public bathroom wall (yes, it was a ladies’ room, and I’ll have you know she gave me a GLOWING review) in a foreign country. Or the fact that when I turned sixteen, the official toast for the event was "Sweet sixteen – and never done it in a Port-a-let".
After accepting the fact that I was a slut, I started trying to compile a list of traits that separate a slut from a regular chick who just gets around. Informal polls, usually conducted either in bars or in my bed after sex, showed that the definition of a slut is a highly individual thing. For some, it’s simply a matter of volume. One guy I talked to even had an official bar he’d set – if a man has slept with more than a hundred women, he’s a slut; if a woman has slept with more than thirty men, she’s a slut. (I asked him why he gave men so much more leeway, and he really didn’t have an answer – typical. But what I really wondered about, and still do, was – why thirty? It seems so random.)
For others, it’s how far a woman is willing to "go" – in other words, what they’re willing to do. I’ve met people (again, mostly men) who think that if a chick does anything beyond a "FMF" threesome, she’s a slut. (I love how the slippery bastards attempt to let women off on a technicality if they’re willing to indulge the old standby fantasy of being with two women, but I ain’t buying it. I’ve seen the fallout from those kinds of threesomes, and they’re the worst. Men love the idea of them, but once it’s actually happened they tend to freak out.) For still others, it’s a matter of attitude – if a woman really likes sex but doesn’t want a relationship, she’s a slut. While I’m pretty much a slut by any of these definitions, I’ve found that it’s this last one that really gets me into trouble.
Men can say otherwise all they want, but the truth is that by and large they’re really uncomfortable with the idea of a woman who just wants to use them for sex. It’s almost like they NEED the baggage that comes with a commitment-bound female. I’ve even had guys refuse booty calls on me before, after making several on me themselves. I’m not really sure why this is, so if some of you guys could help me out with this one, I’d really appreciate it. I can’t seem to get a straight answer out of the hubby, which makes me suspect the true answer is something that he’s afraid will hurt my feelings or something.
I’ve also noticed that people seem to have a Darwinian component to their brains that gives them "slut sense", especially if they’re at a sexually charged juncture in life. Thirteen-year-old boys really like me, as do lonely divorced men and women my age who are just hitting the peak of their sexual appetites. These people tend to hover in my orbit for no apparent reason, just basking in the slut vibe. I’m happy to hang out with them, because I like having my sluthood appreciated.
Come to think of it, that’s why I got married. Being a married slut is okay, I suppose. At least I can make booty calls without stepping on any toes now.
