I'm confused. Right after your big weekend, you were crowing about how well your body had been used and how joyfully she had responded to respectful and enthusiastic touch. It had been brief, a transient thing, as you expected, but you had been exactly where you wanted and chose to be. You took a chance on pleasure and it paid off, allowing you to check off several items from your bucket list and reaffirm your yoni was in perfect howling order.

You loved it. And for that little while, you loved the man who shared your bed. I think that's part of who you are. In fact, I think it's part of your personal magic. Part of your fierceness and your power.

Maybe you think of a slut as a woman who can enjoy sex without letting it be personal, the way so many men seem able to experience it. Me, I never learned how to do that. For me, it's always personal. What matters about the woman sharing the experience is WHO she is, not what she looks like.

I guess I'd be a failure as a pickup artist, because I don't know how to fuck without giving a fuck.

Think about who you want to be, dear friend. I'd advise you to be yourself, because, as Oscar Wilde said, "Everyone else is taken."