Our unlucky in love girl wonders if she should open herself up to dating women

For a man who has sneezed on my hand, he proved surprisingly squeamish at tackling such a tiny faux pas.

Perhaps if we’d been dating for ages, we’d have cringed and LOL’d together about it.

“What am I going to do with you?” he’d laugh in exasperated fashion, before tumbling me into bed and showing me.

But as it is, Wes barely knows me – and I can see I’ve just been moved to the “huffy, possibly even shouty” category of women.

Oh well. So long, Wes. Hello *sigh* the rest of the internet.

Maybe I should take a leaf out of Janelle Monae’s book and go “pansexual”. Say what?

Well, the singer said this week she basically fancies people of every sex and gender identity and is “open to learning more about who I am”. Honk honk, I bet she is!

Maybe she’s right, though. Why limit my sex options to half the population?

There must be thousands of women out there I could date.

We’d neck Pornstar Martinis, go back to mine for lady-sex then feast on Ex On The Beach and Ben & Jerry’s until dawn. What’s not to like?

The only problem? I’m not really sure I fancy women.

The only lesbian experience I’ve had was snogging a mate for a dare.

I was sitting with three friends (two male, one female) in the pub and we were all on the blurry side of sober.

Out of the blue, one of the guys said: “We’ll snog each other if you girls do.”

They were two of my most arrow-straight mates so I couldn’t resist it.

I could tell Lexi was up for it too, so we leaned in. She’s pretty and part of me thought how lush it would be, although I wasn’t turned on exactly.

The kiss itself was, well . . . soft. That’s my overriding memory. Soft lips, soft tongue, the smell of perfume.

And I realised the main part of what makes a snog sexy to me is the maleness of it. That hormonal aggression that comes from a bloke’s kiss when he fancies the pants off you.

Now Facebook’s getting in on the dating act. So many apps use your Facebook friends and likes to match you that they’ve finally wised up and plan to launch their own service.

If I get really lucky, they might just match me with my bestie and I can forget this sorry male-soulmate saga for good.

Until then, my omnisexual days are a pipe dream. I remain monosexual . . . and single.

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