A slut? Me?!

As you might have noticed, gentle reader, I like casual sex. I like it a lot. So much so that the very premise, oeuvre if you will, of the blog is (now) to pontificate, think out loud about my sexual preferences and sexuality without boring/sickening/scarring mentally my friends.

Having missed out on a whole heap of stuff in my younger days [and in my mind] I really am trying to make up for lost time, I suppose. One of my greatest fears is that somehow I’ve missed the boat, my chance at that indefinable thing everyone else seemed so effortlessly to achieve.

Hence I put myself about a bit. But I wonder if I do it for the right reasons. What I mean by that is a huge part of my identity is now bound up in casual sexual encounters. I still, significantly, define myself through sex. That’s not unreasonable, or in reasonable terms* wrong. Yet it does mean that, as happened recently, disappointments; guys standing me up or rejecting me online; can affect my self esteem disproportionately.

Fortunately I had a weekend and a half of mind-boggling fun of the naughty variety and verily Frumpella is currently a very cheerful fairy indeed. Incidentally learning a lot along the way, it must be said – which is another plus point to the casual fun; experimentation. But I must be wary of that thing which afflicts some of my gay friends – “I can’t go out tonight because I want to go online and meet some guy for a shag…” or in other words the equation gay = sex takes over their lives. Have I explained that at all well? I do like that being gay means generally being more open about and to sex; but one abhors the cliché and the stereotype can be taken that bit too far.

And whilst I revel in sex I can sometimes get a bit defensive when I perceive (usually quite wrongly) that I am being judged and found wanting [mene mene tekel u-Pharsin, gentle reader] because of my behaviour. Frankly, my counsellor is one to bring that out of me and as explained before I dislike the sub-text that underpins his advice and insights. I have recently (in the mind-boggling fun way) met a couple of guys each of whom I thought would make good boyfriend material and one of whom in particular I was careful to leave the door open for more vertical activities with. I’m not entirely someone who gets fucked (sorry) for the sake of it. So why do I perceive people might think that?

Oh, I’m a mass of contradictions at the moment. I think maybe I’m getting over my New Year sluttyness; helped in part that whilst on gaydar recently literally everyone I looked at I’d either (a) slept with (b) famously rejected or, on two infamous ‘near miss’ occasions (c) dated (and slept with...).