I had been dating my then girlfriend and now wife for about five months when, as I suppose most couples who realize they are meant for each other do, we had one of those awesome conversations about sex. You know, things you like and dislike, fantasies, what you've tried before, where you've tried it, and what and where you'd like to try things in the future. We hadn't actually had sex yet, so listening to her tell me these things was a real turn on since it gave me an idea of what I could expect. I remember most things about that conversation, but one thing in particular remains fresh in my mind. The only thing I'm not really clear on is exactly what we were talking about that prompted her to say what she did.
It was near the end of the conversation when she said, "I like to think of myself as a classy slut."
"What?" I asked, a little shocked. "What does that mean?"
"Well," she said, "I like to dress up in nice clothes, go to fancy restaurants, and I enjoy the theater. I'm well educated, like to have intelligent conversations, and I consider myself to be romantic and somewhat sophisticated. I also expect to be treated with respect. But there are times when I let all that go and all I really want is to be treated like a dirty little slut. I don't mean in a bad way, I just mean I don't want a nice romantic love making session. I want it hard, fast, and a little on the nasty side."
"I see," I said, my mind filling with all sorts of delicious scenarios as I pictured my brunette beauty in all sorts of erotic situations. "And how exactly will I know when you are in one of these moods?" I asked.
"Don't worry, I'll make it quite clear," you replied with a smile.
Fast forward a few months, probably a month or so after our wedding. We woke up on a cold Saturday morning in February and went down stairs to have breakfast.
