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.
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.“I want to tell you something,” Florida wrote. Everything.”Nowhere in my brain was there a particle that wanted to be anyone’s girl.
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. “I’m listening.”Florida went on about how he got off on jealousy.
But now, I was confident enough to be truly single. 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).
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.
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.
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.
We spent one night together in Austin at SXSW, where we stayed up until 7 a.m. It’s kind of weird.”I waited for his incoming message, peeking around the room at my bandmates, half of whom were snoring.