One fuck does not a relationship make. It's a rookie mistake, making the leap from penis/vagina hijinks to something more.
Not that jumping that particular gap isn't promoted by a kind of hypnotism that unfortunately sways us all every day. Billboards. Blogs. Checkout magazine racks. All the reputable authorities. Hell, it's right there in front of me! If I make my lover cum in a new way, she'll be mine forever!
{This did not actually appear on a Cosmo cover, but I think they should at least think about hiring me.}
The feeding ground of assumption is lush and well irrigated. Yes we got naked. Yes we had borderline illegal sex. Yes I think you're great. No we're not in relationship.
Pic from some dopey MySpace place to which I refuse to link.
Edited because no-one knows Cosmopolitan from their elbow, but Cosmo is the repository of everything hip sexwise. Maybe.
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