I started out a slut you see
It wasn't what I meant to be
Only fifteen and so naive
But for my innocence I don't grieve
Perhaps I should have made a better choice
But I listened to my inner voice
It said 'Go! Spread your legs, be free
With your sexuality'
And so I did, I did just that
Engaged myself in erotic combat
And found, like I expected more
That society can't accept an ethical whore
The men saw me as a toy to use
The women, to hate and abuse
I turned my back, and heard the insults fly
Won't deny, sometimes it made me cry
But I knew what I wanted, and that was sex
I really didn't care about the side effects
Find someone, take what I want
Strip my clothing, my body I'd flaunt
My heart did suffer, this is true
And accusations always flew
Yes, I did steal other men
Don't tell me you didn't time and again
I know what you said behind my back
I know it's from jealousy, what I have, you lack
I'm sorry you're so petty to judge me on my number
Good luck my dears on tearing me asunder
I acknowledge my history now
And for the pleasure given I take a bow
For the pleasure taken I blow a kiss
Sorry lads, I know I'm missed
But I'm the slut of only one for good
And he's now the only man who can get me in the mood
The only ones getting me otherwise you'll find
Are strictly and wonderfully of the fem-gendered kind
As the poem states, I lost my virginity at 15, apparently very young these days...At least, amongst my peers. My fiance lost his at 17, and has 2 girls including me under his belt. I have 13 guys including him for actual sex, and over twenty if we include foreplay, and the number raises even more if we include girls. Let's not even GO into kissing partners.
Along the lines, somewhere, I got stuck with the labels that inevitably come if you're a sexually active young female. I had no shame about my body, I still don't, and wanted to put it on viewing and to use.
Apparently, this is a bad thing in some peoples eyes. Good for them. I never really did care.
I have stolen boyfriends, although not for dating purposes. I have been the other woman. I have had another man. I have had sex with near-strangers. I have spoken loudly about my sex life on public transit and enjoyed the attention it garnered. I have intentionally worn skimpy clothing to ellicit reactions from both genders. I have seduced guys that weren't so sure. I have been seduced when I wasn't so sure. I have come close to danger in my past promiscuities, and it taught me lessons. I have been into the clinic five times - five times! - to get the morning after pill when a condom broke.
And I regret nothing.
I enjoyed every single minute of being a slut, a tramp, a hussy, a scarlet woman, an unpaid whore.
I still am one, in a way. I will only open up to one man sexually, and I love him, and we're going to be married until death. Don't cast doubts here. They won't be listened to, because no matter how well you know either of us, you don't know what we're like together behind closed doors, and no, it isn't all sexsexsexsexsex all the time. He knows...Well, almost as much as my best friend, and my best friend knows me better simply because he is my best friend.
But with women, if we both find them attractive, then I have freedom to take and give as I wish. And I will do so. I maintain my slut status, I have merely put the focus on the female gender.
It is my happy medium. In this, I can keep my lust for variety happy. In this, I can keep my desire for monogamy happy. It isn't polyamory in my view, and it isn't a danger to the relationship in either of our views.
I am happy.
Waiting for someone that calls themself my 'friend' to say something about how if I really loved my man, I wouldn't sleep with anyone else, but happy.