My Mother gave me permission to be a Slut

After the divorce I was depressed and it was starting to affect my friends and family. Finally it was my mother who said, “Hon, what you need is to do is get laid.” That got everyone’s attention, but not as much as what she said next, “I give you permission to be a slut.”
“Just do it,” she said. “You’re a fully grown adult, you don’t have to act like a virginal schoolgirl or Little-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes-I-don’t-Fuck-on-the-First-Date anymore. Just go out and find some good looking guy, take him home or go to his place or do it in his car in the bar parking lot, but do it. You need it so bad it shows, and you’ll be happier afterwards, I guarantee it.”
Everybody was scandalized by this, not least of which ME, but after I thought about it, what she said made absolute sense.
SO I went out and about and starting striking up conversations and at some point I’d drop the line, “My mother gave me permission to be a slut.”
Pretty soon I was racking up a serious body count. I mean, I was taking what my mother said seriously – I was well on my way to becoming the Town Slut. What happened was my ex caught wind of what was happening and he managed to find me, started a conversation of his own – mentioned that he’d heard what my mother had told me. “Yes, that’s right,” I said, “but don’t think that you’re getting any.”
“Why not?” he asked. “What are you, a slut or a bitch?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A slut fucks everyone,” he replied. “A bitch fucks everyone but ME.”
Well I couldn’t argue with that logic, and if I was going to truly be a slut, that meant I had to fuck everyone, and that included my ex.
SO . . . we did it . . . and the sex was good, actually – better than before. I don’t know if it was the break we’d had, or maybe a part of me will always love him, or the weird taboo aspect of it, but there is was.
That is my story.