An old and very dear friend--- the younger companion who, all these years later, remains the gold standard against whom I measure any girl in my life ---raised an issue in a recent e-mail. Is there such a thing as NSA sex? she asked. Is there really? That's a complicated question.
There was never the chance of NSA sex with her, of course. She was very much someone I loved from the beginning and wanted to be with. And even when she was still in a plaid prep-school kilt, she and I were on the phone every night, talking 'til dawn.
I've had experiences at parties or clubs that didn't involve names or deep soul-baring conversations. I've made out with girls or had sex with them when it really was like the Ke$ha line: you know I don't care what your middle name is. Party games, dance clubs, lots of vodka and designer drugs. Which is perfectly fine. That was all about physical release or relieving the boredom or feeling daring. What I will say is that I've never dismissed anyone the morning after a seduction.
I'm a creature of habit. I like my experiences repeatable. If I like eating at a certain restaurant or seeing a certain film or hearing a particular song or reading a particular book, I want to be able to repeat the experience. I am a creature of habit, and of favourites. Once I like something, I want it there in my life. The same is true of people. I can be fiercely loyal to friends and lovers, and I like having them there in my life and knowing that someone I've cared for will be there for new moments.
Seductions are adventures and treasured rituals and engaging games all on their own. But if a girl has played out a seduction with me, if she has spent time with me and talked across a table or across the night aether with me, I'd like to have her stay around. That's not a need for monogamy or deep passionate romance, and I can't deny that convenience may be involved. But it does mean that I respond to anyone who can share conversations and games with me. I love the new-ness and adventure of a seduction, but I like knowing, too, that I can have value enough to be someone's repeatable experience. I hope to be valued enough for a young companion to appear at my door and tell me that she's not quite sure why she isn't appalled at herself, but that she isn't afraid and really does want to try that Argentine malbec or Czech absinthe again.
There are strings there, even with casual FWB girls. However gossamer they may be, there are strings and I weave them myself. However not?