I’m a Slut

 I have sex. I have sex, a lot. I think the general term for me is slut. You might as well add in Bitch too. I get called a lot of names now that I think about it… Whore.Skank. Dirty ho.Tramp. and the list goes on. I fully admit when I was younger it use to bother me; now it just makes me laugh. Society and expectations: a guy can sleep around for days and its “good job, bro.” Me, I sleep with one guy before I’m married and it’s a scandal. I suppose if there’s a scandal it would behoove me to give everyone something outside the ordinary to talk about, right?

Really there isn’t a scandal here. I just enjoy sex and I’m a girl, therefore I have sex. A lot of sex. I sleep with a handful of guys. I am not “in love” with any of them. I simply enjoy having their hard cock pounding inside of me until I orgasm. There is something spectacular about having my muscles contract and losing control in the moment without a care in the world. Call me a sinner, but when I have an itch, I scratch.

You must think something is wrong with me. I must have been sexually abused or molested. Was I raped? I must have had an abusive relationship or be addicted to drugs. The answer to all of these is no. The no is probably why I love sex so much. I chose to lose my virginity when I wanted, with the guy I wanted. He was sweet and gentle. A month later I slept with someone else and my sexual prowess grew from there. Where had this amazing feeling been? There were so many sensations I didn’t know about or hadn’t had. I wanted to know and explore every crevice of sex. My mind always reeling from the last encounter. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration. I haven’t always had mind-blowing sex. Some partners blow. I did however learn that every new person I slept with did something different and the more people I slept with the more I learned and experienced.

Maybe I am a dirty tramp, but I love what I’m doing and I’m not looking for your acceptance anyway. I don’t need your approval. So while you are busy judging me right now. I am cock deep in bliss. You haven’t even crossed my mind. No, I’m not sad and depressed the guy I slept with last night didn’t call me back or want a relationship- hell, I didn’t even give him my real name or my number. I’m not the girl who wants to settle down. I’m the girl you call for a good time. Actually, I call you at 2 in the morning for the good time. Or if you’re a girl and you’re reading this I’m the person you wish you could be, but too confined by your own fears and social judgment to say “Fuck it; I’m going to do what I want because I enjoy”

4 comments

    1. The confessions aren’t necessarily mine. They are about people I know And what they’ve told me. I just put them all in first person to protect their identity. Personally sex is a healthy part of life and there should never be shame attached to it.

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