The birth of Drunken Slut Mum

Of course, I am not going to start with the gory details of my entry into this world – I’m all too familiar with this from the other end to give a biology lesson here.

I wasn’t always a Drunken Slut Mum, though – I was once a very naïve teenager, then a Drunken Slut student, a Drunken Slut twenty-something and a Very Faithful Wife for about seven years.

My slutty days started late when I moved away and went to college – before  that I was a good girl! My wild abandonment started with a guy eight years older than me, who I was convinced was in love with me, but whom I discovered a couple of years later – long after we split – specialised in ‘breaking girls in’. Student days highlights included sex on LSD, sex in a car park, first ever anal sex assisted by margarine, sex with someone very good at it and a seven hour sex marathon with a tall, muscly blonde. Well, between the ages of 18 and 21, most girls are at their physical best so it’s surely a waste not to enjoy it. And when there wasn’t sex, there was ‘slam-dancing’ to Nirvana which entailed mostly sweaty male bodies shoving and throwing themselves against any females who got in the way. So guess where my favourite place on the dancefloor was?

My twenties in some ways are hazier – maybe because by then I could afford wine and gin – the Drunken Slut staples. Ports of joy in a sea of errors include number one in my top ten list – Mr Very Well Endowed With the Body and Stamina of an Olympic Runner who could do amazing things in a vast and colourful array of positions. Sadly the conversation got as exciting as him talking about his favourite cheeses… I also got to see the new millennium in with a bang in the attic of a friend’s house with a gentleman with Duracell-like stamina who never seemed to come…

Marriage happened all too fast. And didn’t live up to expectations. The above episodes were all more exciting than any intimate moments in seven years with the ex.

But then I discovered The Man. The Man who after several drinks (gin for me, thanks, then some red wine) took me back to his house, kissed me softly, eased me out of my dress nibbled my neglected breasts and was the first person to touch me in seven years. To touch me properly, I mean and awaken the sleeping pink cushioned cave within me.

And this is where Drunken Slut Mum’s adventures began.

 

 

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