There are women all over the world who believe the “Third Date Rule” is written in golden tablets and stored at the top of a mythical mountain.
This is the rule that decrees a woman may not have sex with anyone she is dating before the third date has come to pass. If she defies this law, she will be branded as a “whore” or “slut” and will suffer the ridicule of all whom she meets.
I call bullshit. BULLSHIT.
When a woman makes a conscious choice to rip off her black, lacy underwear and ride you until she has satiated her desire, it is hers alone and there is no one who can deny her that.
In case you didn’t already know that’s how a woman works, here are a few of our secrets.
- No, I am not a slut. Webster’s defines the word slut as being a “slovenly woman” or a “prostitute.” I am neither. I am clean as a whistle inside and out, and I have freely given any affections I have given a man and that is my right. So, take that word and throw it the fuck out the door, because it doesn’t belong here.
- Cuddling is not in my vocabulary. The reason I am in your bed is to have an orgasm. When that job is done, I am going to get dressed and go home. If for some reason you are in my bed, then I expect you to get the fuck out when we are done. There is no lingering sentimentality over what has happened. Frankly, I am tired and want to go to bed alone.
- I do not expect anything tomorrow. Surprise, surprise, surprise. Just because I sleep with you, doesn’t mean I think we’re packing our bags and heading off to Vegas to get hitched. If this goes beyond one evening, great! If not, I’m not going to be crying into my pillow and comforting myself with my vibrator. I’ll move on with my life quickly.
- Do not place yourself on a pedestal. I did not sleep with you because I am needy, looking for a husband, or trying to fill some empty void in my life. I slept with you because you carried on a good conversation and set my panties on fire with lust. End of story.
- Be honest. You have no intention of calling me tomorrow? Fine. See point 3; I expect nothing of you. I don’t care how good of a lay you think you are. Don’t tell me you’re going to call/text/send smoke signals if you are not. That insults the both of us. Plus, if you were terrible in bed, I probably don’t want you to call me anyway. Sexual chemistry is more than a little important, and if we don’t have it, then we don’t have anything.
- Sex is not the only thing I have to offer. Unless you were not paying attention on our date, which I understand given my dazzling beauty, you would know that I am a highly educated, witty woman with a rapier wit that rivals Dorothy Parker. If we meet again, the goal is not to have a succession of orgasms, not unless I have made perfectly clear that is all I am looking for from you. If I have not indicated this is a booty call, I expect you to wine and dine me, and treat me like the respectable woman I am.
- Yes, I am more than worthy of respect. I am a woman who owns her sexuality, intellect, and captivating personality. So, instead of being “frigid” or a “slut” depending on my actions, how about you treat me like a woman, regardless of what I do at the end of an evening? Would that be too radical a concept?
This may sound like the angry rant of a torch-bearing feminist, but it’s not. It’s the frank talk of a woman who wants men to know that if I choose to sleep with you, it’s a gift. Appreciate it for the evening, and don’t expect anything more when the morning comes.