Freedom and Caution

So I hosted my usual 18-35 munch (ohhhh, you’re that Pearl!) and it went swimmingly. And because I have the words “freshly broken up” stamped on my forehead, and because I am flirty and approachable, the tentative interest is starting to manifest.

Funny thing about that, at the moment I could be banging half the city of Montreal. Or having kinky BDSM with them, assuming consent in both cases. There’s a play party this weekend, and my dance card has been given a few longing looks from people who’d like to give it a punch. Or to be exact, would like me to give them a punch. And yet, I find myself up against the issue of being a theoretical slut.

Okay, my sexual history puts me firmly into the “slut” category, by even a fairly liberal culture’s standards. But, finding myself with the complete freedom to do as I want, something doesn’t quite feel like it would be a good idea. Some of it is the nature of my separation  being a bit over a month shook of a really long tenured relationship. Of course, reportedly the other side of the Divorce had a date lined up for that weekend with a “Lawyer” according to helpful friend gossip. But he’s always landed on his feet. I give him six months, tops, to a pretty good new girlfriend or a series of entertainments.

And there’s Strong, doing his quiet presence in the background. Not that he is a barrier to anything, but life, upon embarking on my Divorce got at once more simple and immensely more complicated. Suffice to say, temptation, and also the leftover sense that how the Divorce went down means that life should not be rushed. And one of the things I have to face up to is the fact that I’m a lot better at being flirty than I am at playing musical cocks (or vaginas).

And I don’t think I can have a zipless, body based fuck. Some of it is that I am hard to bring off, and so complicated sexually that I might as well stay home and masturbate. Some of it is that despite the reputation I produce I am shy.  As a combination, despite being  a female dominant  and thus treated like scarce joy, the urge to paint the town pink, much less red, is not there.

Some of it is being worried people will get too attached. some of it is worrying that you will deal with people throwing a hissy when I want things entirely on my terms- I’m going around telling a lot of people “I am flirting and touchy, but if I want to have sex with you I will explicitly say so in as many words.”

Weird, I don’t feel like being promiscuous with sex, or playing with as many people as possible, when I’ve had the most freedom ever. It’s going ot be interesting to see how the party goes down tonight.

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