Some of these girls look a little young to play the part, don’t they?…
Seeming that I’ve used the term at least once or twice, I thought I should get around to sharing my thoughts on it. This can be a very divisive subject, but I have a bit I’d like to say about it.
My definition for the word “slut” is simple: A woman* that (seemingly) sleeps around indiscriminately.
*(More on this in a bit…)
Not as easy to follow, it seems, is when I state that my use of the word “slut” is descriptive, not normative. In other words, I’m not making a moral judgement when I use the term. In the past, I’ve had people jump down my neck when I’ve used the term, screeching that I’m a “slut shamer”, “sex negative”, or whatever the hell else kids are saying these days, but that’s based on their notions of the term, not mine.
I mean, wouldn’t it be a bit out of character for a guy that benefits from women’s looseness to be out to make them more sexually inhibited?
Let’s address that asterisk, though. So, why do I—unless I’m joking—reserve the term “slut” for women? The short answer is that I accept reality. Here’s the longer version:
This post is not about food…
In a previous post, I went over how I use “talking” as an aid to arouse and/or bring women to orgasm. While I went into some of the intricacies, I left out specifics. Today, I want to talk about one of those specifics, and the trouble it’s gotten me into. When I first learned, first hand, about the way that this specific topic turns some women into wild, reckless beasts, I was kind of taken aback.
You could say I was still a bit of a Committed Man at heart back then, and this meant that I actually believed that women were what they said they were. (Turns out these claims were mostly soulless regurgitations of characteristics they borrowed from the cultural narrative on feminine propriety…)
So, imagine naive Jack’s surprise when, upon first giving the subject of insemination a try during some of his mid-sex “talking”, it turned a woman that had previously behaved as if she was perfectly happy with condom use, into an aggressive, cum-fiending succubus. This was, of course, Liz.
It’s one of my fond memories. Just minutes before things went all crazy, she’d been posing nude for me to draw her, but that didn’t last long. Some time into our fuck session, while licking and nibbling on her ear lobe, I whispered that I wanted to dump all of my cum deep inside of her wet little pussy really badly, and she let out a moan like I’d never heard before. It was like an “Oh yes!” and an “Oh no, what have you unleashed?!”, all mixed into one. Oh, what came next…
In keeping with the theme of my last few posts, I wanted to share a story about a time in which my adventures with “taken” women actually went less than stellar. Navigating the seas of women can be rough, but never as much as when the other man is a friend, and the woman is a dunce.
The girl in question—we’ll call her “Caprice”—is what I’d call a social climber, though in this instance, she was more of a social lateral mover. Caprice met my friend, whom we’ll call “Duane”, after one of her girlfriends was invited to hang out by a co-worker of ours. I wasn’t around when this went down, but by the time I met her, Duane and her were already dating…more or less (more on this later).
It was at another social gathering with the same group of friends that I first met her. For Caprice, I think it was pretty much lust at first sight. I would have needed to be partly blind to miss the fact that she was eye-fucking me the entire night.
(Jeebuz! What is it with me always attracting sluts? Does my resting asshole face also read as an “I love sluts!” face?)
When the night wound down, and I was getting ready to split, Caprice asked to borrow my phone. Apparently, she’d left hers out in her car, and “needed” to call it to check her inbox. Now, maybe I have too much sex on my mind (it’s true), but I totally took this as her making a move on me. If you’re not convinced by the things that sex-crazed Jack tells himself, though, then consider that Duane was nearby, and his cell phone was sitting on the coffee table right in front of him. If you’re still not convinced about my assessment, then…keep reading.
It’s all fun and games until the clown pipes your dame
(Or, “On The Moral Implications Of Sleeping With ‘Taken’ Women.”)
This is something that I’ve wanted to speak about for a while now. Some of my crazier misadventures have involved me hooking up with women that were in relationships, so it’s something that I thought I should address.
I recently wrote about my views on infidelity, from how I define cheating, to who’s more likely to cheat, and in that same post, put forth the following idea: It is up to couples to agree upon what behavior will and will not be permissible in their relationships. These relationship terms are a bit like business contracts; they are about mutual benefit. “You scratch my back, I scratch yours. You don’t fuck anyone but me, and I keep paying all of the bills.”
(Or, “A Quick Peek Behind The Scenes And Into My Thought Process”)
The issue with us creative types, is that we don’t always go about doing things in a linear fashion.
Above is a screenshot of my drafts panel. Those are some of the posts that I’m working on currently, and if you look carefully (you can click the image for a closer look) you might even notice that I’ve got stuff in there that was last worked on back in November of the past year. That’s another problem with us creative people. We sometimes abandon current work when we get new, shiny ideas in our noggins. It’s common for me to prioritize what I’m working on at the moment based on how excited I am about it, and that often means that I’ll be working on my newest idea and returning to the older ones later….maybe.
With this blog though, I sometimes get stuck, because a post that I want to make requires that I make one or two additional posts before it, so that people may have a better understanding of my basis for certain thoughts (which also serves my aversion about subjecting people to single posts that are giant walls of text). In the above image, the second post from the top, currently titled “On Others’ Infidelity”, is a perfect example of this.
(Or “Welcome To The Desert Of The Real, Lesson 1: No, We’re Not Actually Monogamous.”)
Something that’s always earned me a bit of hate, both online and off, is my apparent indifference towards “cheating”.
Human relationships being one of my central interests, I’ve often taken the liberty to add my thoughts to discussions about infidelity. The result, usually, is that I get dog pilled by a righteously indignant mob, so intent on remaining angry, that anything I say about cheating that isn’t prefaced with an absolute condemnation of the act is taken as me defending it. I’d argue this isn’t my story, however…