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Writer's pictureDee Dickens

The Importance of Consent

Me being me, I have had many adventures and done many things that make my friends say, “If I hadn’t been there to witness it, I would swear that you had made it up.” I have been trying for years to work out how I keep getting into mischief and I cannot do it. I just know that “It seemed like a good idea at the time”, “it didn’t occur to me to say no” and “I was bored” feature where it comes to the shenanigans I have instigated, agreed to and straight up dived into.


For instance. There was a young woman called Becky (not her real name) who found me rather sexy. She wanted to try, to explore her bi side, and had a horrible boyfriend who was only into the idea if he could watch/ join in. He was absolutely NOT my type. He looked like the kind of guy who would floss (the dance, not the tooth thing) by thrusting. Like the Grant Mitchell bloke on Loose Women. I tend not to believe in cringe, thinking it a way of keeping people down and not allowing them to do what makes them happy, but good gods it was uncomfortable. The kind of man who thinks that brown brogues, ironed jeans, a shirt and jacket to go with his flat top haircut and neatly trimmed moustache is the height of night club sexy. He spends hours in the mirror perfecting where the three strands of hair that haven’t deserted his head fall. Wears a pinky ring. Likes them young.


So before I actually throw up and the idea of his self-assured voice and what he thinks is a sexy look (he licks his lips a LOT) telling me he knows he can show me a good time (just show me the way to a bloke who won’t make me gag on sight), I will move onto the Becky shenanigan. I’ve subjected us both to enough.


I told Becky (call me Bex) that though I thought she was a total fittie, I was not interested in her boyfriend in the slightest so unless she wanted to play with me without him (the idea of him getting off on me, BOAK) that I would have to decline.


Also, can we talk about the Male Gaze here? If you are bisexual and your man says he is fine with it, and he will ‘let you’ sleep with other women, but not other men, and only, ONLY if he can watch/join in, I have news for you. He is not ok with you being bisexual. It is nothing to do with your sexuality and everything to do with his. He doesn’t want to encourage you in your sexuality, he just wants to get off to live action PornHub. It is still about control for him. And having two women suck his cock. They ALL like that. And it sucks. But seriously, the bar is so low here, that they should be able to pole vault over it. Controlling your partner’s sexuality is just disgusting because it is on the floor under the bar. When your partner says they are bisexual, there are things you might want to have a conversation with them about because we are all different. We are not ruled over by the Bisexual Council (though I might like that if I was feeling in a submissive mood) and we have our own ways of viewing things. You might want to ask them how that looks to them, do they envisage your relationship being monogamous, or on a more polyamorous footing? If they are having sex with someone else, is it going to be just that, like a friends with benefits arrangement or is it more likely they are going to have a girlfriend? Is that what you are looking for in a relationship? If they are into the group thing, is that ALL they are into or will they also be looking for one on one? What is your understanding of gender? How will you feel if they sleep with a woman who has a penis? (Trans women are women). If your partner is bi and your first thought is “hur hur threesome” then you don’t deserve them and maybe you should stick to PornHub.


So, Bex. She broke up with Mr Mademelosemyluncheventhinkingaboutit and I moved out of the city where we were both living at the time. Game over, you might think, but no. She texted me to ask me out for drinks for her birthday with some friends. I was feeling quite sassy so peeled on the skin tight black pvc trousers, heeled boots and a very low cut top. Hopped into my car and headed up the M6 with a little case packed with toothbrush, clean knickers, condoms and lube, cos a girl never knows when she is going to get lucky.


Got to the pub, which was handily over the road from her house and there she was, with a boyfriend. Spud, or Sludge or something like that. The opposite of Mr Made Me Lose My Lunch but still a definite no. What can I say about the woman, amazing arse, dreadful taste in men.


Pint and a whiskey chaser please barkeep.


I just kept drinking, and when I drink I get even more gobby, and Becky gets even more horny. There were two other couples out with us that night and once Bex lets slip that I am the woman she would have slept with if the ex had ‘let her’ one of the other women got very interested. Seriously, both the other women were into the idea, but the one to my left was VERY into it. She kept leaning in very close to speak to me (the pub was NOT that loud) and I would get a brush on my arm from a rock hard nipple. When she had got bra less, I am not sure, for I had noticed she was wearing a lacy once earlier when she bent over me, so I was guessing it was now in her handbag. I mean, fair play to her, she saw what she wanted and she went for it. Even down to putting my arm round her and my hand on her arse. Her other half noticed this so, now that “I was drunk, bored and it seemed like a good idea at the time” had reared their mischievous heads, I moved my hand from her arse. He nodded and the smile froze and turned to shock as I put my hand high up on her thigh and started stroking. He pulled his girlfriend’s chair back and put his arm around her hissing “behave” while I grinned and she giggled. Bex and Stig or whatever his name was, I think it began with an S, just looked hungry. Drop your keys in a bowl on the coffee table type hungry.


I was drunk but coherent when we left the pub. You know the kind of drunk where you are cock of the walk, and everything is funny, but you couldn’t do your alphabet backwards and a straight line might take a while. It didn’t help that the kebab shop owner flirted outrageously with me. I was in my full sexy powers and was unstoppable.


When we got back to Becky’s, where I was staying the night in my own room, things took a predictable sexy turn. Me and her were making out and clothes were starting to come off. Sputum, or whatever his name was, started to take one of my socks off. Which is when I said, “No. Not you. I am happy to fuck Bex, it has been coming a long while, but I want nothing to do with you. Do not touch me. You can watch, but not join in. Anything that touches me will get broken.”


Becky then got up to make a cuppa. Thought he might as well have something to keep his hands busy. And warm. While she was in the kitchen, Snooze, or whatever his name was came over with what I am sure he thought was his sexiest look, though to be honest, he looked like he’d had a stroke, and said


“let’s get those tits out babe.”


In my defence, I had warned him. And I was feeling bad ass. So when he put his hand down my top, I reached in after it, grabbed it, pulled it out, and snapped his little finger at the bottom knuckle.


You’d think that would be the end of sexy time wouldn’t you? Not a bit of it. He screamed how that bitch had broken his finger. Bex told him that in my defence, he had been warned. She strapped his finger up (don’t think I mentioned she was a nurse) then took me by the hand and led me upstairs shouting down that men who couldn’t be trusted to behave had lost the privilege of even watching.


A VERY good hour later, I took her back downstairs (Bex was a screamer, and Sluice, or whatever his name was would definitely have heard her) “here you go mate, warmed her up for ya.” While I headed up to my room listening to Sulk, or what ever his name was, saying “you don’t make that much noise for me.”


I never saw Becky again. Apparently she and Saliva (or whatever his name was) broke up shortly after that. I liked her, we had a great time, but she had lured me there under false pretences and that was something I wasn’t prepared to put up with. Had she said, “come up for a few drinks and a shag, willing to tell the boyfriend he can’t be involved if that is what you want”, then I would probably have still done the drive. As is, I take a massive consolation in knowing that if anyone asks him if he has ever had a threesome with two women, SpongeBob, or whatever his name is, will think of me, his broken finger, and hopefully his newfound resolve not to touch anyone without their permission again.









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