If you have been following my posts, you know that I do not have tons of sexual experience in this "ethical non monogamy" setting. While sometimes I feel a little frustrated about that, I'm not really upset by it. Here is an example of the reason why.

Last weekend, I had my first visit at a nudist resort. As many of you will know, "nudist resorts" are notorious for frowning strongly on (what we might call) displays of public sexuality. I was there with a (female) friend, but we are not in a physical relationship; we were there to split the resort's daily fee. (She had met my wife over coffee, earlier that week, so that each could verify for herself that I had spoken accurately about the other. They ended up getting along famously -- hurrah!)

My friend and I did not pretend to be "a couple," and we made it clear (1) that I'm married, (2) not to her, and (3) that my wife knew and was good with it. The resort's regulars liked that, and greeted me warmly. (My friend had already been there several times, and they loved her -- they have good taste. :-) )

That Saturday, more than a dozen members of a nudist club from a nearby city (not mine) came to the resort for a day trip. Some of their members were swingers or in open relationships, but of course that wasn't obvious to anyone who didn't already know them. Some of the visitors were considerably younger and more attractive than the resort's regulars.

Late in the afternoon, I found myself in a conversation with one of these ladies: 38, blonde, and very nicely shaped. Several of us older men had come over while my friend had been spreading sunscreen on her reddening breasts. My friend moved on, and the young woman proceeded to banter with us men, all standing around together. One by one, the other men ran out of banter and walked away. She and I remained.

Her banter with me was about health care. She noticed my coronary bypass scar (about 11 years old, now), and traced it down my chest. She came closer to me; in due course we stood embracing each other in a "hug," except one of her hands was down at my tailbone and my cock was definitely in contact with her belly. I knew she was married, and glanced over at his husband. He was in the pool, looking away.

I will admit it: I am bad at catching and using other people's hints. I am afraid of "false positives," of interpreting something as a hinted "yes" when she meant nothing of the kind. If the setting is not already a sexuality-positive setting, I need words. I was not getting words.

After a while, she broke into sobs about her fears about her health care situation. Her husband then came over, took her into his care, and motioned me not to follow. Some time later, after she was dozing on her poolside lounger, I respectfully approached her husband so that I could offer my apologies for any offense I may have caused. He smiled and waved them away. He told me, instead, that yes they had an open relationship. He had seen us; it looked like she and I were flirting and might have some fun later; and he was OK with that. (He was? Gosh, I had no idea!) We shook hands with smiles.

That was the first thing I learned. The second thing I learned later (from my friend) was that the young woman was drunk. No, that's not true. She was sauced. She was plastered. She was plowed, only in terms of alcohol. (She was? Gosh, I had no idea!)

I think she had started drinking as soon as they had arrived that morning, and had kept it up all day. This is probably why she broke into tears ... I think she got distracted by her own banter and lost track of what she was doing.

So, to my title for this blog entry.

You may say to me, "Wow, man, you missed such an opportunity!" I mean, she was young (from my point of view), she was good looking, and yeah she was hot!! Dang, shoulda, coulda, woulda!

And I say, "Wow, I dodged such a bullet." Because no one that drunk can give genuine consent to anything.

Or can give me the words I needed, in that sexual-vanilla setting, to be sure that it would be OK if we proceeded to "have fun."

Or can work with me, if I had thought, "OK let's go" ... and then had brought her over to her husband so that I could be sure that he would be good with it. (Since he and I had never met before and had not spoken with each other before this banter broke out.)

There were so many ways that this could have blown up in my face.

And it didn't. I didn't push her past her genuine consent; I got a handshake and a smile from her husband; and I didn't offend any of the sexually-vanilla regulars at the resort.

I dodged a bullet.