Will I cheat?

I just wanted a place to talk about some slut shit--I never intended this to become a relationship blog, y'all, but that's exactly what it's becoming.

Cute Asshole whom me and Mr R have known forever turns out to be a bigger slut than anyone I've ever known, which is really quite sad, because his European girlfriend, even though they are 'separated' still waits for him, and is keeping herself uhm.... "pure" and he's whoring it up and out. Turns out he's been whoring it out since high school---damn dude. Guess I don't feel so bad about that whole situation anymore. :/

Mr R and I have been busy editing a film, doing the jobs of 20 people. Something I really really love, is we get pissed and frustrated at and with each other, but we're still loving to each other, and we're never pissed for long.

But... when I'm with him, I mean, he's so fucking beautiful, but I remember fucking him for the first time and how exciting that was because I didn't really know him. Now when we fuck it's even better and better every time for him, but it's kind of been sliding in a shitty downhill trajectory for me. I have to be really drunk and playing some slut music in order to get into it. FUCK! I didn't want to turn into one of those women like so many we all know, that can only fuck with the sparks from the beginning of a relationship. And because of this, when I see him, I love him with all my heart, I really do, so much sometimes I just ache for him... but I can see myself cheating on him. Oh god, I hate admitting this. Why can't I just exist within a loving healthy relationship without growing bored with it?

So I live to go out and smash the town, downing shots, crunking, dancing all night long. I can envision at some point, MR R--being older than me and with a job with varying hours, wont accompany me. This is where the danger lies. I'm not about to start bragging about how I look--I only see flaws in the mirror--but when I go out, I get swarmed. When I'm alone, I hit-on the big chicks (shut up, BBWs appeal to me :) but stupid young boys follow me like I'm the Pied Piper. I know how I look is quite different than the person I am, and alot of people see what they want and see stereotypes in my face and body.
Anyway, I can imagine after downing some drinks, as you know drinking makes me horny, dancing under pulsing gold white purple and green lights, flossing with some baller, as I'm rubbing my little ass on him with his hands on my waist I reach back with my hand and cup the back of his head, stroke my long nails through his hair, up and down his neck. I do this anyway when I'm dancing, and it never fails to bring the tumescence.
But.
I can imagine myself taking it a step further, as it is so very dark on the dance floor, and with so many bodies twisting and grinding together, a sweaty pit of relationship-destruction. My sweaty skin sliding against his, I'll turn around in his arms, stroke my hands up his body and if he doesn't stoop down, I'll have to jump to get that kiss. Kissing... is kissing cheating? No. But I likely wont stop there. I might have so much preemptive guilt that I wouldn't actually go through with any sex, but I fear that I'm always going to be unhappy with Mr R for the stupid stupid reason of not feeling sexually satisfied or excited.
I mean, He excites me. He does. I love his body, I love to see him in his sharp and sexy fucking clothes, I love to take those clothes off him, I love how we laugh together, how he cares about me, how we work and have fun together, how he's gentle without being spineless. But. But he's never given me an orgasm. Granted now, I have NEVER had a man give me an orgasm, and according to girlfriends, vaginal orgasm is hard to get from penis porking.
Granted also, since my UTI, I am wary of letting any bacteria-filled things near my vag, namely his tongue as DUH!--it's bacteria ridden and I'm still dealing with residual urethral pain months later. So if he doesn't do cunnilingus to me, then it's no wonder I'm not orgasming, right? He has tried during sexy time, but it makes me giggle like a little fucking kid getting their armpits tickled. In some way I'm not ready to let go unabashedly, and since I know how bad cock tastes when I gobble it, I worry I will never be clean enough.

If only I could do yoga to let me taste my own pussy.

Confession

I have a confession to make, yall. It's been rolling around my head for a while, and I think it's time to talk about it because it's epically awesome in a slimy kind of way, the kind of shit you'd read about in shitty Young Adult novels or something, or what you'd see on the CW with snotty bitch-ass teens who have no responsibilities to keep them occupied and talk about sex and drugs all day.

So I said how I used to see MR R around, yes? That's true. And we DID run in diff circles so I never talked to him. But our circles happened to coincide a bit. Some years ago I made a friend with a total asshole of a guy who is actually pretty cute and nice once you get past the asshole bit. He became BFFs with Mr R also some years ago when they dormed and drugged together (those days are loooong past, thank you very much).

Me and cute asshole have been friends for like 7 years now, taking classes together, fighting, shooting each other the occasional email where I gave him advice about his foreign girlfriend. He's in training in the army now, because he's a bad-ass asshole who spits death in the face. So he comes home for a while every summer and hits me up, as he did last year, as he did this year.
We went out drinking, but before we went out, we stopped by Mr R's flat. (Now this was before the fireworks and the attempted BJ and the near-rape by Techno-dude.)
I thought Mr R was a weird quiet man and when we all hit the town together, I kept wanting to ditch him so me and cute asshole could be together "and actually have fun."
When we were alone for a while, cute asshole and me were talking about his girl friend, and how he was on the verge of breaking up with her. I encouraged him, as I didn't really care and she seemed like a total bitch.
We kept drinking, and drinking, and later MR R, me and cute asshole were eating at some dive bar and under the table, cute asshole was stroking my leg the entire time, up and down, up and down, but it was weird because I've always known him as my asshole friend and anyway, I worried about the chill in the air and how you know your leg hair starts growing whenever you get goosebumps? Yeah.
So for the next two days cute asshole stopped by my place and I kissed him lightly on the lips, but nothing more. I SWEAR! JESUS--YOU GUYS THINK THE WORST OF ME!
So he goes back down south to do more training, writing me periodically about how he broke up with his GF and likes the naughty lacy panties photo I shot for him. (I also took cleavage pics on his I-phone too)
Then me and Mr R started hanging out and you know about all that.

Just to reiterate, I kinda sorta helped break-up a faltering relationship to sorta begin dating my old asshole friend, whose best friend began hooking up with me.
Gasp!
Dismay!
Now me and cute asshole never had any sort of agreement. We saw each other twice under the pretense of "kinda dates", but that was all. The only real repercussion this could have is the photographic evidence, which I told Mr R about a long time ago under the guise that I had a crush on him even then and told cute asshole to send those photos Mr R's way. No, the only REAL repercussion this could possibly have is with Mr R's relationship with cute asshole. Mr R is a highly educated gentleman, very shy and reserved, and this friendship he has with cute asshole may be one of the only people he can truly call a best friend. (Besides me. Although you don't generally fuck your best friends, considering I treat him like another guy and we laugh and do dumb boy shit together all the time, I definitely consider us besties.)
I don't want to strain their relationship. I mean, cute asshole stopped writing me, but hasn't stopped contact with Mr R, and hopefully never will.

Mr R is getting very serious about me, yall; he's talking about marriage and the future and really, I saw him initially as maybe a good one night fuck or something along those lines. I just wanted to bone him and he had to start bringing in all these emotions and humanity to it. It's like you switch on the radio to Love Games/ Disco-Stick and it changes suddenly to something by Rachmaninoff. Or Chopin--because Mr R is a melancholy sort.

Oh and PS: cute asshole's girlfriend returned here to go to university and through Mr R I'm kinda friends with her now. Mad Mad world.