One sexually impetuous act by me doesn’t make me a slut, irretrievably!
By Stanley Collymore
Yes, I was foolhardy to do what I did;
but just as there was no coercion
on my sexual lover’s part to, at
any cost, bed me there likewise was no
calculatedly cunning conspiracy on my
own either to obviously ensure that he
did and perfectly frankly and honestly
what evidently happened between us
consensually really came about both
naturally and spontaneously. True to
say I had long promised myself that
I would really, never sexually involve
myself heterosexually, for really it is
what I unquestionably am, with any
member of the male sex until I was
over 18 and even then it would just
be with somebody I basically knew
personally, crucially liked or simply
really deeply cared for reciprocally,
was evidently, a legally consenting
adult; and who were he to be even
truly in love with me, nevertheless
really respected me sufficiently to
sensibly take, my well-known and
cherished feelings into his fullest
consideration before we crucially
actually indulged consensually in
mutually compliant adult coition.
Fully confident in myself that this
was the way in which I would
consciously and willingly
lose my virginity, I consequently didn’t
worry or even think about sex unduly;
as there was no real need or actually
any reason to as I was just 16, quite
clearly, still at school, and earnestly
planning on subsequently going on
to university. Simply, really the first
person effectively amongst any of
my family to actually contemplate
far less able to do so; as my Gran,
I learnt, was clearly obliged to get
married as she was simply up the
duff when she did so while rather
tellingly Mum had me at 15, aptly
quite predictably so according to
Gran, having readily relinquished
her virginity at the age of just 14,
rabid promiscuity on mum’s part
which undeniably resulted in her
being up the stick with me really
as the literal consequence of an
orgy, that really she was fervidly
part of with a group of itinerant,
building workers that then were
evidently, undeniably employed
officially as a workforce and by
my Mum to effectively be aptly
the routine, ex-tempore sexual
commodity, truly appropriately
within her prudish community.
Relevant individuals simply to
Mum but rather obviously not
any apparent reciprocation in
direct response from them to
her, other than the very usual
sexual one, that undoubtedly
simply left her pregnant with
me after they’d literally gone.
Now, despite all my earnest
precautions undeniably so
to evidently, preclude me
from being like either my Gran or Mom,
yet in spite of them, there I was plainly
pregnant and actually so at simply 16,
and essentially quite obviously, not in
love with the man, who unmistakably
got me so, nor he equally undeniably
significantly with me and discernibly
with both of us intelligently realizing
that any such imposed “consensual”
marriage on our part, was really the
last thing that either of us evidently
wanted, or would itself be distinctly
decidedly emotionally beneficial to
our individual or irrefutably too our
joint future welfare, and effectively
therefore, logically and abundantly
significantly, quite unquestionably,
or very unmistakably also actually
be intelligently considered, by any
astute person, as a valid solution!
Mom though, ridiculously sought to
have the final word by seriously
suggesting that this young
man, five years my senior, significantly
from her clearly narrow perspective in
full employment, and who’d obviously
always been quite significantly, crazy
about me; feelings, which I evidently
did know about, but neither sensibly
encouraged on his part nor actually
in anyway crucially reciprocated on
mine. Yet for all that, there was my
mother very blatantly, encouraging
me to now literally, and undeniably
totally brazenly, distinctively make
essentially unconcealed amorous
overtures towards him effectively
and very immediately afterwards,
followed by my distinct seducing
of him; evidently unquestionably,
simply letting him ignorantly and
ardently take the bait which was
on offer; with him becoming not
only a loving and fittingly dutiful
husband, but also an amenable,
malleable and controlled father!
(C) Stanley V. Collymore
4 November 2023.
Author's Remarks:
This poem is written about and, rather similarly too, specifically for Yvette - her surname is definitely not essential here, whose express permission I essentially have to do this. Yvette Forster came to my attention when she quite voluntarily joined an extra-curricular group that I'd previously established to facilitate the discarded needs and rather uncatered for abilities of children, debarred from schooling, in my home town and also neighbouring areas. Children that either because of the simply evidently odious and distinctly obvious bigotries they did encounter, were unquestionably awfully shunned because of them and were all connected to their Black race and skin colour, conjoined with similar intense and debilitating prejudices because of their societal environment - take that to quite literally mean white working class and council estate residencies - were they lived, and were more likely to be summarily booted out of the British educational system for so- called anti-social behaviour and the quite usually toxically hyped rigmarole, while similar activities and even worst committed by the public school perceived elites as well as the Middle Class social climbing sycophants will naturally and instantaneously be considered as just "high spirited behaviour"; it was quite obvious to me the Yvette - who is white - was equally short-changed as all the others, Black and White, who were all part of this extra-curricular group that I'd individually set up.
To fast forward Yvette did exceptionally well and readily integrated with all the other members of the group. Ultimate like many of the others she got a well-deserved place at university where she studied science and subsequently on graduating and with the group's full support went to the USA to do her PhD which she excellently sustained.
Yvette never married her mother's very convenient choice of husband for her, nor the father of her son who manfully did ask her to marry him but she quite candidly refused his offer of marriage, her explanation being, she recounted to me years later that marriage should be about genuine love and commitment, not convenience. However, her child's father, unlike many in his situation, did commendably and voluntarily accept his paternal responsibilities to his own offspring as well.
While in the USA Yvette did meet and fall in love with a young man she met at university there. He knows the full story of her life, for as the honest person she is, Yvette wanted no secrets of hers hid from him. They're now married, Yvette has her PhD and that lovely son of her is himself at university studying to a doctor; stating that his ultimate aim is to a surgeon.
