norepinephrine plus

Clue Chick ruminates on her status as a slut:

I was recently talking to a friend of mine about the realization that, you know what? I'm pretty slutty. I haven't had any particular hangups about the concept of slut, or sluttiness for quite some time. A lot of the women I spend time with happily identify as sluts, or as having been slutty in the past, and that's something they're quite comfortable with.

For a long time, I was a "good girl" by almost anyone's definition of the term, and for some of that time, that was important to me, that I be good, by some external, socially accepted metric, even if I rejected that metric when applied to other people.

And goes on:

I had a man, recently, after a play date with me, tell me that it was fun, but he didn't really like sluts, so it was only a one-time thing. This, as you might imagine, left me flabbergasted. I make no bones about being a slut, or being easy; after all, I post it on the internet, specifically with the intent of practicing my sluttish arts of fucking and sucking. So, to him, apparently, a slut is good once. Needless to say, this pissed me off.

What's the male equivalent of a slut? That certainly would apply to him, no? One of the things that drives me crazy in the gender politics of casual sex, is the double standard: a woman who engages in casual sex is dirty, or bad, but a man who does the same is a stud, admirable.

Do you go out with a slut, or do you keep her at home? She's good for a lay, but not for a date, where people might see you with her, perhaps?

I'm totally a slut. I'm obsessed with sex. I love it. I love women. I love love. I need it. I'm a needy person. I admit it. It's all I care about. I think about sex all the time. Even as a child. I started masturbating at the age of 5. I lost my virginity when I was 14 and I've been addicted ever since. I remember the night I lost my virginity very vividly. It was a Tuesday, sometime in late August. It was around 9:00 at night. Her name was Cris and she was older. We were in this park and she said she had to go to the bathroom, so we walked over to the women's restroom and I waited outside. It was dark at this point and no one else was around and Cris walks out of the bathroom with her pants around her ankles and tells me to follow her. I do and she unzips my pants and take out my cock and she lifts herself up onto the sink and slips my cock inside her. It was like a bolt of lightning had erupted from my crotch and spread throughout my body. I knew sex would feel good, but I couldn't believe it felt this good.

Falling in love and having sex is better than the greatest high ever and I say this as someone who was (is?) a total druggie. After all, orgasms are "akin to a shot of heroin."

I love kissing. I love the feel of a girl's lips pressed into mine. I love the smell of her skin. I like to stare into someone's eyes when I kiss them. I love that kind of closeness and vulnerability. It's almost impossible to be anything other than what you are in that moment. Sex with someone you just met can be really intense because there's a (false?) sense of intimacy with someone you don't know. It's easy to be vulnerable with someone who doesn't know you. But it can be empty. I like being used. I like being controlled. But what do those words mean? People can only use me because I let them. So who's in control, really?

I love going down on girls. I love it when girls sit on my face! I think about it constantly. It's my favorite thing in the world, next to making out. I love the smell and taste of a girl's pussy. I love kissing her thighs and slowly working my way up. I love to kiss a girl's pussy. Slowly at first, rubbing my lips against hers, then taking her vulva into my mouth and sucking. I have a huge tight jeans fetish and it drives me crazy with lust to smell a girl's crotch through her pants. I love ripping her pants and underwear off and smearing my face all over crotch. I mean, I come all the time just from going down on girls, which is kind of a drag, but that's the great thing about being young: it takes mere seconds to get hard again, especially when you have sopping wet pussy in your face.

I want to die every time I slip my cock inside a girl. It's boring, but my favorite positions are when a girl straddles me or when I'm on top. I've never fucked in a position I didn't like, even the ones that hurt, but I need to look in someone's eyes. I hooked up with this girl named Teresa last May. She is really beautiful: 5'8, thin, light brown hair, and really expressive, pale blue eyes. She would always turn her head away when I'd look at her. "Don't look at me like that," she'd say. "Like what?" I'd ask. "Like that," she'd say. All right. So I would keep looking at her. She would pout and say, "Aaaaaron." One night in bed she told me I was the only person to look in her eyes when having sex with her. I didn't know what to say. I mean, what did other people do when they fucked her? People are afraid you'll see something. I love sex precisely because I can't hide. I get tired of hiding. I get tired of everything, really, except fucking. It seems that the more sex I have the more insatiable I become.

I admit I have a problem. I guess most people would probably say that I do, but I'm not sure. Despite my sluttiness, I'm really not one to cheat. I mean, I've cheated before, but that was when I was a teenager and I'm not sure that stuff counts. And despite my sluttiness, I care about everyone I have sex with. It's impossible for me just to fuck someone and not talk to them or see them again. There's too much dopamine and vasopressin pumping through me for that. Unfortunately, though, that kind of shit happens. Even if you want to remain in contact with someone, it's difficult. You're not sure if they're just using you or what. Everyone is too interested in playing it cool. Or maybe they just don't care about you; perhaps you're just another body. This can be intense and fun too, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't leave me feeling empty.

I love slutty women. I would never hook up with a woman I knew was open about her sexuality and then try to get rid of her after having sex with her. That's pathetic. It's hypocritical and deficient in basic self-awareness, not to mention it lacks class and style. Last year I went on a "date" with this woman named Jamie. The "date" was okay. Not bad, but no "spark" as it were. She was nice to spend some time with, but I was really thrown for a loop when she told me that, not only was she a virgin, but she had never even kissed anyone before. Pardon the pun, but come again? I played it cool but inside I was dying from ghastly guffaws. 24 years old and never even kissed anyone before? A real head-scratcher, that one. I know a lot of guys are into that whole virgin thing, but I think I would gouge my eyes out if I ever had to have sex with another virgin. Why would I want to be with someone who has little to no idea about what the fuck they want? All the hemming and hawing and giggling would drive me into the arms of the bathroom for a hearty jerk. I want a bitch who will take charge. Which brings me back to the beginning of this paragraph: I love sluts. I love bitchy women. I love women who know what they want and don't give a fuck. I love women who are emotional and passionate and crazy and aren't afraid to start shit. In other words, I like bitches. I'm totally attracted to women who "don't know when to keep their mouths shut." That's what I loved about Tina and Rachel and Teresa. They just said whatever came to mind and didn't give a good motherfuck. "Aaron, you got something in your teeth," "Aaron, I want your dick inside me," "Aaron, you're an asshole," "I fucking HATE that bitch, Aaron! I don't care if she can hear me," "Aaron, I'll fucking kill you if you ever leave me," etc. I hate phoniness. Rachel always used to say, "How can you be with me? I'm such a bitch," to which I'd reply: "I know. That's what I love about you."

If you're hooking up with a guy who can't deal with who you are, fuck him. Why waste your time? If you're with a guy who can't deal with your sexuality in any real way, you're with an extremely small, insecure man who's swallowed every load fed to him about women and sex. Sex and love are beautiful. It is the greatest thing we upright animals have to give. It is the stuff of the cosmos. Certain people hate sex because sex is inextricably linked to women. We live in a society where teams of men are praised for clobbering the shit out of each other over an oval ball, but is plunged into an abyssal moral crisis at the briefest flash of a woman's nipple. The message is boringly clear: aggression and violence and competitiveness is virile and good; sex is vulnerable and feminine and bad. But being bad feels pretty amazing, doesn't it?