I Choose to be a “Slut”.

Feature image @awfulmadre via tumblr.

I did not get the chance to be promiscuous, what I consider “promiscuity”, when I was younger (despite the rumors your ears picked up). I kept my sexuality at a low by subjecting to long-term relationships. A serial monogamist. So, since the good ol’ day of losing my innocence,  I maintained long-term, monogamous, relationships. Until, someone broke my heart, again.

I was done! I was done with trying; I was over looking for “the man” to spend the rest of my life with. So, I accepted that I would be

Ignorant!

Naïve!

I was a freshman in college, thinking, my love life was over. But, this is where my journey through promiscuity began. My internal monologue:

”     Maybe its time you become a hoe    “

This journey is nothing like the other promiscuous women you know. My journey became a search for a sexual maturity involving wanton flirtation in effort to make men whither to their knees before me, with ease. In short, the search for my sexual identity.

Fashion

I started with my sense of fashion. Before I was carefree! I wore what ever. Mainly jeans and a t-shirt or leggings and a cute shirt. You know, basic. Whereas during my exploration of my sexual identity, I showed more skin. The pants got shorter, the tops became cropped, the skirts became straight, tight, with a slit or high-low. I wore clothes that accentuated my new growth spurt of 34″ bust /27″ waist /38″ hips. That’s right! “Slim-thick witcho cute ass”. I added color, too. No more black, grey, and white. I expanded my color scheme to pastels, bright oranges, yellows. All of which I loathed.

My hair! Hunny! I dropped the box braids and twists, and went for the expensive shit. I dawned my 20-inch, Brazilian body wave, ombre’d by lo’lights, and wand curled to perfection. From fire-red, to your darkest green. I did what ever to gain the attention I sought. From there, I explored the relm of tattoos and piercings. From my second earlobe piercing to my belly button, and the small matching tattoo I got with my best friend behind my ear. YOU NAME IT, I wanted it pierced. I was, what you children back in those days would say, “a baddie”.  At least I thought I was.

I, purposely, looked as if I were open to sex or DTF. I 👏was 👏 PWAPPIN’.

You are probably saying,

“Doing those things will not get a mans attention” or “no one cares about that”. But, it did; they did. Men were flocking me left and right! From the idiots that called me “big booty Judy” to the timid men I left with nearly torn hearts (with warning that their hearts would be broken of course). Hell, even women fell for the juice💦.

However, my journey did not stop there. I was not DTF.

Yet.

I was still… searching. So, I started exploring uncharted areas.

Self Pleasure

The uncharted areas exploration was a voyage to becoming one with my whole self. To do that, I had to fine-tune my connection with my vagina. For those who will not cover their eyes like this guy, 🙈,  masturbation. Stigmatize masturbation all you want, but, by masturbating I learned

• How I liked sex.
• What areas in or around my vagina got me the wettest or the most stimulated.
• The hot spots on my body.
• The sensations, pressures, speeds, and rhythms to reach climax.
• How to have stronger climaxes.
• Relaxation methods.
• What my desires and fantasies were.

Basically, solo-sex turned me into a “freak”.

I thought this was the end of my journey. I was ready to take on the world as a naïve girl turned promiscuous woman. But, something was missing. I was not sure if I knew how to have sex without falling in love.

Casual sex, no feelings
As a serial monogamist, I did not know what it took to woo me, per say. Without this knowledge, I was vulnerable. So,  I had to learn how to be promiscuous without having my feelings hurt or growing attached; I learned the art of “no strings attached”.  I had to deceive my typical thinking and, basically, set my casual relationships up for failure; set them up for hopes of no future.  Then, I was ready.

”         I became a promiscuous woman!       “

In the moment of sexual liberation, I used my womanhood to spite manhood.  I experienced this sexual journey for 8 months. However, I will not delve into body counts and the negative experiences in this expedition through deceit and great sex. Because, it all ended once I became enamored by, who I believed to be, “the one”.