Dirty weekends

Years ago, before I met my husband, I was invited away on a dirty weekend.  I was a single girl.  The man concerned was (I am embarrassed to say) living with someone, but he had the ‘hots’ for me, and invited me away for the weekend.

I was under no illusion that this weekend was going to ‘lead to something’.  I was very young.  He was much older and more affluent.  He was going to take me to a lovely hotel, have sex, and go home afterwards without a second thought.

In a moment of stupid bravado, I said ‘yes’. 

Within moments of having said ‘yes’, I realized I had made a terrible mistake.  It was a mistake I have regretted ever since. 

In practical terms, I am fully aware that I was not (by a long shot) the only one to fall for his charms.  Whilst I feel guilty that his girlfriend would have been devastated, had she known, the real villain was the man himself.  After all, he was the one in the relationship with her. 

So, my only experience of a ‘dirty weekend’ was the one I spent with Jonathan.  And it was horrendous.  For the week between the invitation and the actual ‘event’ I was desperate to call it off… But his enthusiasm paralysed me.  And so I went ahead with it.

From the moment he picked me up in his sporty car, until the moment I got back home, it felt ‘dirty’.  And not ‘dirty’ in a good way!

So here I am now, over 20 years later, with the physical desires a single woman of my age has, wishing for a dirty weekend.  But I know it’s not all it’s cut out to be.

So why is it, that despite the fact that women have needs just as much as men do, I can’t just ‘go for it’.  Accept the offer of a ‘no-strings’ encounter, to satisfy these needs, and take it for what it is. 

And I guess the real answer is, that the real need I have is for someone to want me because they love me.  Without that love, the need will never be satisfied.

Sometimes, I really wish I was a man…