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.and fooled around all morning until I left, frazzled and braless, to play a daytime showcase.
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.“There’s this big construction worker type with a huge cock,” I wrote.I used to think it was because I never truly loved any of them, but now I realize it was more about the reality of my ego and confidence. I told him I’d had sex with the guy the last time I was home for a friend’s wedding.“After the party, I made him carry two vases of flowers and my shoes while we caught a cab. We got to my house, we did a bunch of coke that he bought, then we fucked for hours. I thought about you occasionally but it didn't last because he is better than you.”At first Florida’s cuckold fetish was an exciting form of entertainment. Plus, it propelled me to shamelessly go after whoever I wanted to sleep with.I was bored on tour, and having this man who desperately wanted to know all the details of my sexual encounters was funny. As much as I always played the hardass, I was a black hole of need.That’s true of anyone who seeks so much validation from others. His fetish gave me a new backbone for my confidence.I wanted Florida to praise me for my slutty decisions, and he was more than happy to comply.Every night, I’d text him little stories, sometimes exaggerated for his satisfaction.I detailed weird meet-ups with rising rappers and told Florida about every man I screwed or who even showed interest in me.And every morning I’d wake up to his drooling response.Normally sexting was a frustrating form of communication, but with Florida I got to have my cake and eat it too. I was in Manhattan again, and after my show at the Bowery Ballroom, Florida and I hopped in a cab and headed to the hotel he had booked.Armed with three bottles of wine and two months worth of build-up through our text messages, I was charged up for the sex of a lifetime. You get me sexually.” I don’t have the stones to tell him the truth.