Sunday, 2 September 2012


A dear friend of mine, who’s had more romantic let-downs than a whore’s drawers, is currently between the horns of an amoral dilemma.  Just like babies after IVF, two chaps have come along at once. 

She likes them both - in slightly different ways: one for his witty repartee, organisational skills, generosity and the remote possibility of a future, the other for the fact that he’s as hot as chilli between the sheets.  

In the course of their work, both gents travel a lot on business.  They’re often away at the same time which gives her the chance to see her friends and look forward with eager anticipation to their duplicitous return(s). 

Last week, she spent a wonderful evening with one of them.  Two days later, the other one wanted to get together.  Feeling slightly guilty, yet unwilling to refuse, she rationalized thus:   

If I refuse, he might think I don’t like him and drift off to pastures new.  I don’t know what he gets up to when he’s away and I might just be his London lover.  For all I know, there’s a Washington wife and a Madrid mistress.  So is there any sense in me being prissy when I could get hit by a bus tomorrow? 

She often views sex as ‘medicinal’ based on the irrefutable knowledge that it is good for you as a mood enhancer, spirit lifter, endorphin booster.  I support her in her life choices: a little of what you fancy does you good and a bit of something is better than a lot of nothing. 

So I say: ignore the guilt and you go girl! Men have been treacherous lechers since time began.  Is it so wrong for women, just for the fun of it, to act the same?