I admit it. My virtue is running thin…transparent even. I want to do things that I know are wrong, but at this point, I’m one thigh caress shy of earning my own scarlet letter.
Can one earn a scarlet letter even if they’re not the one who’s doing the cheating? Is it kind of like guilt by association?
Are you all sitting there reading this wondering just what I’m getting at? Ok, let me explain.
You might remember my racy sexting adventures with my running friend that I wrote about several months ago in a post aptly titled “Adventures in Sexting and Why I Love The Art of the Flirt“, and if not, you should go read it now. you will love it, this I can assure you. Now, my flirty friend has a girlfriend. I know she exists, and while we’re only acquaintances, I can assess that she seems like a good human. I would never want to cause her any undue hurt. Despite this, I want to straddle her man and ride him dizzy, and this want is real and growing.
However, I also have a conscience that tells me acting on this thought is wrong. My inner cricket has spent a lot of time shaking his finger at me lately when these thoughts cross my mind. I think he’s due for a raise or something because he sure seems to be taking his job as guardian of my morality pretty damn seriously. Trust me, I’m not attempting to justify what I may or may not do in the future. I will do as I do, and the only one that has control of my choices is me. Here I am venting my inner “angel” and “devil” debate to you all. I’m sure I’m not the only one who wrestles with this inner dichotomy. Right? Anyone? Hello?
In this situation (and many like it) if something were to happen and down the line, our transgressions outted, I lose. I’ll be the slut, the bad guy, the one responsible for it all, no matter whether or not his part was equal to mine. That’s how it is, it’s the way it always has been. I’d be the Eve that made him take a bite of my apple, single-handedly destroying his virtue with single bound. The woman has always been the one to blame for it all since the beginning of time, and the man gets forgiven because “that’s just what men do”. Never mind that he would be equally responsible, or the master of his own choices. It’s this double-standard that I dislike the most. Once again, no matter what, the woman is the slut.
I risk losing more, even though I’m not the one who has monogamous commitments to another person. In that area I am scott free. I’m just not sure I’m willing to risk the possibility of being alienated by mutual friends, and being shamed with an invisible, though ever-present red letter “A” on my chest. Is the possibility of a seriously good romp worth it?
It would probably be most truthful to say that if it wasn’t for this risk, I’d have fucked him already. I still say it’s a wonder I have held out this long. My resistance is becoming less and less persistent. My excuses to avoid it are progressively becoming weaker and more lame. I want his mouth on mine and his cock buried deep inside me (I’m not picky on the orrifice, why choose just one?). The desire to have that is beginning to rise higher than my moral ceiling reaches.
I skirted last night with a near miss. I blame drinking without eating for the slight slip in my judgement, and now today I’m doing that think where I keep saying “I can’t believe you did that” under my breath to myself over and over again, and clutching my head in my hands in embarrassment. Suddenly I feel like I’m back in college. Still, my virtue remains intact, but the question is, for how much longer?