"the company was the more important thing..."

I'd meant to leave my previous post as the top for a while, but this is something I just can't get out of my head.

At what point does sluttiness (for lack of a better term) become really predatory? I knew I was aggressive. Unapologetic. But I didn't think that really carried over into intimidation. At least that was never my intention. Apparently that failed. Ah, another damn thing I've failed at.
I had been playing, verbally, with an old friend. We spent many a night talking into the wee hours of the morning about everything, focusing largely on spirituality and sex. Which I actually think are tied closely together. Anyways...
There was discussion about our mutual kinks, and we found some kind of solace or at least kinship in them. There was talk about sharing said kinks, since they were so very compatible. Tentative plans were made. Nothing concrete. More of a I'll-call-you-when-I'm-in-town-and-we'll-see-how-it-goes kind of thing. But apparently that was too much to handle. Which I didn't realize. And I wouldn't say I necessarily just talk a big game, I usually back it up, but I'm not especially the type to just meet up with old friends strictly for sex. I enjoy some pleasantries beforehand. Apparently that part wasn't communicated. Because he said he got cold feet and couldn't handle "random sex."
And there was something that stung more than I would have expected about being relegated to the "random" pile. I don't know. It's not even that I don't have random sex, because I certainly do. But somehow I justify it differently when it's with friends, I suppose. Like it's simply friends with benefits, and not entirely random. I'm not sure where my problem with being labeled "random" comes from, but I suppose it's a remnant from my upbringing and socialization (yes, in this heterosexist society) that I can't quite shake. And the classification threw me. I had never meant to be predatory. Shit, that was the last thing I wanted to be. Really, I talk about sex and sexuality so much because I'm most comfortable in those areas of discussion, traditionally taboo as they may be. Not necessarily because that's all I ever do. (Of course, there would be much worse ways to spend eternity than having glorious, kinky sex...)
But this whole exchange had more the feeling of... I don't know. Guilt. Or something. Whatever it was... it wasn't good. And I didn't like it. I generally try to avoid guilt these days. And the funny thing is, I didn't even DO anything. I'm just feeling guilty for the hell of it. Ha. Happy damn birthday. Oh well. Suck life. But it goes on, right?