Normally sexting was a frustrating form of communication, but with Florida I got to have my cake and eat it too. I was in Manhattan again, and after my show at the Bowery Ballroom, Florida and I hopped in a cab and headed to the hotel he had booked. You get me sexually.” I don’t have the stones to tell him the truth.
Armed with three bottles of wine and two months worth of build-up through our text messages, I was charged up for the sex of a lifetime. A transgender porn star named Riley Kilo (who became famous when she appeared on an episode of TLC’s “My Strange Addiction” for dressing like a baby and diaper play) once simplified the psychology of fetishes for me: “A kink is a thrill, and a fetish is a must,” she told me. Suddenly, I did not have control of the situation anymore. I had to talk and talk and talk and make sure that he was completely immersed in the cuckold delusion. I think he actually got back together with his ex-fiancée. That I’m just a normal woman who wants to have sex the way she likes it and doesn’t want to fake anything at all.
Since then, we’d both been on the road, and so we’d been sexting: the ever-so-intimate telegraph of modern solo jerk-offs. But now, I was confident enough to be truly single. Florida wanted to watch me seduce, tease and flirt with random men.
He wanted me to screw whoever I wanted when I wanted, and explicitly detail my sex life.
We spent one night together in Austin at SXSW, where we stayed up until 7 a.m. Everything.” Nowhere in my brain was there a particle that wanted to be anyone’s girl. “I’m listening.” Florida went on about how he got off on jealousy.
and fooled around all morning until I left, frazzled and braless, to play a daytime showcase. Earlier that year my boyfriend and I had broken up, and with that, my decade-long attempt at monogamous relationships came to an end. No longer would I be bound to a boyfriend back home who drained me with his need for my love and attention. I was going to live like Robert Plant: Screw whoever I wanted, when I wanted. Men were just going to be these nice sidebars and no longer primary characters in my life story. He liked knowing the woman he was with was sleeping around on him. I had scored a cuckold (definition: the husband of an adulteress, often regarded as an object of derision, but in the fetish sense, cuckolds were willing).
My i Phone screen lit up as I lay awake in my hotel room.
I was on tour, and my band was all asleep, but for a few months I’d been texting with another musician I’ll call Florida. It’s kind of weird.” I waited for his incoming message, peeking around the room at my bandmates, half of whom were snoring. “If you were my girl, I wouldn’t be upset if you got with other guys and told me everything about it.
It is very simple actually, because these personal ads are pretty much your very own ads on the site that you are in.I detailed weird meet-ups with rising rappers and told Florida about every man I screwed or who even showed interest in me.And every morning I’d wake up to his drooling response.I was bored on tour, and having this man who desperately wanted to know all the details of my sexual encounters was funny. As much as I always played the hardass, I was a black hole of need.That’s true of anyone who seeks so much validation from others. His fetish gave me a new backbone for my confidence.“After the party, I made him carry two vases of flowers and my shoes while we caught a cab. We got to my house, we did a bunch of coke that he bought, then we fucked for hours. I thought about you occasionally but it didn't last because he is better than you.” “This is so hot,” Florida responded.I imagined him trying to masturbate while typing on his shitty phone and laughed a little. ------ At first Florida’s cuckold fetish was an exciting form of entertainment. Plus, it propelled me to shamelessly go after whoever I wanted to sleep with.Now because of the rare nature of this dating experience, online dating is the best solution for it.There are certainly a lot of doors or opportunities that can open if you are able to fully utilize it.Florida’s fetish completely took over in our hotel room. I had to be constantly coaxing him along, talking dirty about all the men I had slept with as he vocalized how bad he wanted to hide in the corner and watch me with other guys. But I only had so many stories to tell, and I was getting exhausted. I was pretending to be into the cuckold thing because I had convinced myself it was part of my mission. To be that woman in the book my aunt gave me when I was 15. I wanted someone to like me back normally, without the performance, and I began to feel drained, like a whore puppet, completely without agency and restricted by the boundaries of his desires. I thought that being with a cuckold would give me sexual freedom, but instead, I was trapped. As someone who had always struggled with infidelity, I felt as though I had hit the jackpot. I wanted to be the one who got to do whatever I wanted while my partner stayed obedient and faithful to me. I was not good at sharing my partner with others, which is why I would only guest star in three-ways and resorted to cheating instead of an open relationship.I have cheated on every single boyfriend I have ever had. When I was 15, my Aunt Marissa gave me a novel called “Cheat” about a British woman who had seven sexual relationships going at once, with both men and women. I wanted my partner to be faithful to me while I could get my kicks elsewhere. But here was Florida, handing me my twisted dream on a silver platter.I used to think it was because I never truly loved any of them, but now I realize it was more about the reality of my ego and confidence. “There’s this big construction worker type with a huge cock,” I wrote.