In the bad old days, there was a simple answer. A woman waited until she got married – or at least she pretended to. Anything else, and you were branded a whore, bringing disgrace on yourself and your whole family.
My dear dad, bless him, tried to convince me to wait until my wedding night, or at least until I had an engagement ring. I presume he must have thought that even the most hard-hearted seducer would think twice about giving me the old heave-ho once he had spent a couple of hundred quid on a diamond. I could be a slut, as long as I wasn’t a cheap one.
Traditionally, the requirement to be chaste has always applied more to females than males. Blokes could spread themselves far and wide and that wasn’t an issue. Girls, however, were expected to be ladies and to wait for their one true love – if they were lucky enough to find one. Thankfully, these days, things are more liberal – but they’re still not free as I’d like.
Very few of us expect to marry as virgins – or even believe that marrying a virgin is desirable. There are no longer any hard and fast rules about how to conduct a sexual relationship – which has to be a good thing in itself. However, the sexual revolution is not over, or questions of what is ‘acceptable’ sexual behaviour would no longer apply. We’re having sex, lots of it – but, somehow, our attitudes have not quite caught up with our actions. We’ll happily shag you six ways before breakfast – just don’t call us sluts.
I have a big problem with the whole idea of “sluttiness” or “sluttishness” if you prefer. It’s a completely sexist concept; a relic from a less enlightened time. But it is still out there, even among people who consider themselves sexually liberated.
It’s not as if women get less enjoyment out of sex than men – if anything, I have a sneaking suspicion that we may get more. So what’s with the idea that we shouldn’t indulge, and with a bit of variety if it suits us? Sure, nobody thinks any less of us for having lovers, just as long as we haven’t had too many, or had them too quickly. But if we transgress someone’s notional rule in relation to this, a reputation as a slut may begin to follow.
So how soon is too soon? I thought it might be a good idea to ask a few mates.
Women’s magazines often suggest the Three Date Rule. Anything less and the bloke may decide you’re a slapper – another word for you to contemplate, that – and anything more and he’s likely to lose interest. Is this really the way it works? I surveyed a bunch of male and female acquaintances between the ages of 18 to 38 to see what they thought.
All my male friends, every single last one of them, said that shagging on the first date was a bit of a turn-off. (Well, blow me down! – Ed). I tried to point out to them that since it takes two or more people to have sex, this meant that according to the text book, they too were sluts.
This theory was not well received. My mates looked at me as if I’d been sniffing solvents and had scrambled my brains. The only bloke I asked who reckoned it wouldn’t make any difference to him was my true love, Conor. I was about to give him a blow job for being so enlightened when he qualified that statement by saying “either you like a girl or she’s just some rag you just want to bend over.” Charming. He’s not much of a gentleman, but he’s a hell of a cook. You take the rough with the smooth.
Surprisingly, my girlfriends agreed with the guys. According to them, shagging on a first date is slutty. This is fine if you want a one-night stand – but if you’ve anything more on your mind you should wait. My friend Laura works by a first/ fifth date rule, depending on whether she wants to get her end away or is interested in a relationship. Which sounds far too calculating altogether to me!
Men sometimes accuse women of being impossible to understand and I guess this is one of the reasons why. So listen up boys, here how it seems to work: the more a woman likes you, the less chance there is of her sleeping with you anytime soon. This means if you get lucky on a first date, it’s probably not thanks to your Lynx 24-7 or your irresistible male charm – you were merely her plaything for an idle hour.
But why should you need to fulfil a quota of sexless dates before dragging a gorgeous crumpet back to your gaff? You should have sex with someone when you’ve decided you want to, whether that takes a few hours or a few years. Waiting until you know someone better can be great because in certain cases it helps you to build sexual or romantic tension. There’s nothing wrong with that, but waiting because of arbitrary sexual mores is, frankly, ridiculous.
More often than not, I do prefer to wait a while. Not because I don’t want to be seen as slutty, not because of the Three Date Rule, and certainly not because I want all my sexual encounters to become relationships. But there is one rule I swear by. It called The Red Thong Rule. Let me explain.
A few years ago a friend of mine was on the lucky third date. All was going swimmingly, good food, wine and candlelight, until it got to crunch time. Upon removing her date’s trousers my unfortunate friend was confronted with surely one of the foulest things in all God’s creation – a red satin thong on a hairy ass. She did what any sensible girl would have done – she fled.
Since then, before deciding to have sex with someone I ask myself: Do I know this person well enough to be sure that he is not wearing a red satin thong? Simple but effective and it’s never let me down. All my lovers have been great guys – although some of them have definitely been sluts.
Which, in my book, is a good thing.