How often have you lied awake in the darkness, with something on your mind and remained still and silent?
How often have you shed tears that only your pillow has known? Or perhaps craved your lover but been unable to touch them?
We’ve all held sadness throughout the day, only to release it when we’re alone; in the bathtub, shower, on a long run, or in bed.
But have you had great joy, and great love you were too timid to share as well? Well, last night was one of those nights for me. I had both, and damn it, I was going to enjoy it.
You see, I’ve had many, many nights where loneliness and sadness were my bedfellows. They’re not nearly as sexy as a man, and they’re worse at keeping you awake. I’ve cried a river of tears in my bathtub and in my bed. Quite frankly, I think I’ve used up my lifetime quota, so I fully intend on enjoying every second of joy when the mood strikes.
We all know the torturous sounds of partners that snore like lumberjacks after a night of swilling whiskey. Ah yes, the torture of sharing space with someone who makes a lot of noise. When you’re tired, the sound of someone else indulging in sleep is almost too much to take.
Last night I was curled up in my sweetie’s arms, wide awake as he drifted off to sleep. If you’ve ever been smitten, you know how lovely that sounds is; your loved one cozy and warm and safe, drifting off with long, relaxed, deep breathing. He was dead to the world, but I was awake. As in, awake-awake. As in, I had some bedtime-energy to burn, and damn it, I was going to set a match to it.
Too often I hear my gal-pals tell me how terribly lacking their relationships are when it comes to physical intimacy. I know it can be inconvenient, time consuming, hair-mussing, and laundry producing. But really, what the hell?!
Intimacy is one of two great things about being an adult. The other one is booze.
But I digress….
What I’m getting at is the one, single element of our ‘intimate’ relationships that we let slip is the intimacy itself; physical and emotional. Day-to-day tasks take over, and before you know it, you’re sleeping with someone you no longer en’joy’. One of you sleeps, the other one is horny and resentful. It’s great when you’re on the same Exhausted/Exhausted schedule and Horny/Horny schedule, but let’s face it, that rarely happens.
So, last night, curled around each other with my dozing sweetheart , instead of letting another moment be sequestered by the fatigue of our day-to-day-pooh-ha, I seized the moment. Well, his moment.
Just a little suggestion if your bedtime routine is more like a sleep lab and crash pad than a flamboyant boudoir; roll over and do something about it. Maybe even splurge on a candle or two.
You must be over 18 and an Open-Minded, Sexually Liberal Adult to enter this blog….
“Why We Need Men”…or women, whatever your particular gender identity or sexual preference, you get what I’m going for here…
One of GQ’s covers this month, featured fellow Buddhist Jeff Bridges. He’s on my I-Would-If-I-Could list.
Old gnarled up Jeff Bridges really lights my fire ladies and gents. His rugged two-day beard, the way he holds his jaw, and fills up a big screen with his raw laid back machismo makes me want to be close to a MAN. Meow!!!
The mouth-wateringly sexy cover was a good enough excuse to pick up the magazine and bring it home so I could slobber over another interview with the famous, intriguing ‘Buddhist’.
While flipping through the pages, I happened upon an article intended to reassure men that our ‘small bedroom appliances’ would never take their place. I’ve reached that tender age where reading the article would have been a tad elementary.
After all darlings, at this stage, we’ve all made the foray into the land of I-Never-Want-To-Be-Bothered-With-Man-Crap again.
This little journey into the dark forest of what I like to delicately refer to as ‘self-care’ offers an education in B.OB.’s (battery operated boyfriends), lifelike models of the phallic landscape, slippery prosthetic tongues, the ‘cone’, gags, ties, whips, slips, chains and canes, lube, tube and, ultimately, disinfectant. Le sigh….
Alas, it’s kind of like buying a long skipping rope with no other playmates to turn it for you. This is precisely why we need, or choose to keep the company of our succulent and satisfying men.
There is no more powerful antidepressant or anti-anxiety than the comfort offered by human contact. Whether it’s a sincere hug, or a full-on-body-contact-bedroom-bonanza, having a real life partner to connect with is priceless.
At the end of the day, after all is said and done, we’re all trying to connect. Why else would there be a zillion toys on the ever-thriving adult market trying to make up for the simple miracle of human anatomy?
So, gentlemen, do not let a lady’s collection or experience frighten you.
Consider it a compliment that an experienced woman who has a choice of suitors has invited you to join her on a journey into that warm, wonderful, slippery slide into a full-on intimate relationship. Consider yourself blessed if it’s accompanied by a deep friendship and lifelong commitment.
The headline on my homepage asks, “What’s the dirtiest fruit in the grocery store?”
After a yoga class, two mojitos and a hot bath, the only obvious answer is the banana. Duh!
You see my sweet little Georgia peaches I came face to face with a dark-haired blue-eyed devil this weekend. A demon I thought I had left behind along with 3am-morning-after-escapes and my dark, dirty and delicious Mr. Grey.
As my Belgian pal would say…le sigh. Le sigh indeed Carson, le sigh. What is a girl to do???
You see, in a former life, I wouldn’t have thought twice about a younger man. A much younger man. In fact, a couple of them have been great fun, and a very smooth stroke to the ego. In the past I’d have had a hot romp and set him loose, locking the plantation gate behind him with a flick of my blonde locks.
Instead, tonight, I let the last of the steaming bath evaporate from my skin, sip my drink and think, “Tomorrow….maybe, just maybe tomorrow…”
In the spirit of all that’s sultry, sexy, and reminiscent of our youthful, sexy, feminine, giggly, glory days, I present you with Mr. King and Mr. Hooker….do dim the lights, sip your bourbon, and let your mind wander to your young indiscretions as you listen to this;
You all know by now that I adore my time spent at the local art gallery.
I have been blessed by the art gods, or pan-sexual-life-affirming gods (whomever inspires you my darlings), to live near a world-class gallery.
I spend many a Sunday afternoon sipping wine in the member’s lounge, chatting to fellow artists, wanna-be artists, or perhaps just myself, Moleskine and smooth writing pen in hand.
Some days I write pages, and other days the page holds out its fabulously, gnarled hand and won’t let me write a damn thing.
Most of all, beyond my nine-to-five life, the gallery feeds the flame of my creativity.
The art feeds my imagination, and what, pray tell, my sweet, tender ,figs, would an artist be without imagination?
My top ten fantasies inspired by the AGO
1) I finally find that flowing scarf that never snags, flops into my soup, or makes my voluptuous ass look big. I also find the perfect sexy boot that doesn’t make me sound like a Clydesdale clopping across the sacred silence of gallery space.
2) I am bent over the knee of Rodin’s Adam, being shagged mercilessly by a very determined lover. He must be virile and skilled enough to finish the entire job before we get tossed out of my Eden of art forever. Preferably he speaks no English. Better yet, he doesn’t speak at all.
3) All of the books that whet my insatiable appetite for the exchange of ideas are priced reasonably, and I meet a man across the crowded, over-priced gift shop who is as hungry for intellectually stimulating intimacy as I am. (Hopefully this one speaks English, but with a sexy Irish brogue, or French yum-yum-accent).
I’m afraid that sums it up. I know lovey, I know, I did say there were ten fantasies, but I can’t share the rest with you. I’m saving them for someone special.
The gallery inspires me to creative, lustful, philosophy. It’s as simple as that. The other seven fantasies are for that yummy man, whom I meet as he sizes up my books and I size up his, er, um….anyway, our, eyes lock across the crowded bookstore/coffee shop/gallery/coat check/gate/pub/studio, and I know he’s the lucky one.
During a conversation with some of my philosophising-religion-vs-spirituality friends, we stumbled upon the subject of sexual morality. “Is sexual morality an oxymoron?” I thought to myself. “Regardless, that’s an English scholar’s debate.”
The gist of the conversation went something like, ” I don’t understand why people are so uptight about having sexual partners who are friends but not full-time partners.”
Yes, there is a double-standard with regard to gender expectations and what is acceptable, but I’m not going there, because I think the double standard is bunk.
“Hmm,” I thought as I sipped my beer. “Why are people so upset with two consenting adults having a sexual relationship without a traditional relationship or marriage?” Personally, I’ve always thought that whatever two consenting adults do together behind closed doors is no one else’s business.
UNLESS….I’m sure there are a zillion ‘unlesses’ and ‘what-ifs’ I could think of, but there are always exceptions.
The woman I was speaking with confided that once in a while it’s nice to have that human connection, a bit of a cuddle, and the friendship that goes along with it. As another single woman I had to agree. The men at the table concurred enthusiastically.
It has long been my philosophy that it’s lovely to plan a night, pamper myself with the spa treatments I want, have a few glasses of wine, put on some great music, and make love, as Lional Ritchie says,”all night long”.
This is not to be mistaken for the one night stand or drunken booty call. This is an established relationship agreement, and it can be as fulfilling as a woman needs it to be until she’s ready to settle – yes, settle– for a full time partner.
Don’t bust my beautiful buns here gentlemen. Yes, yes, yes, men also ‘settle’ for full time partners.
Many women have relationships with single men who aren’t around as a husband or boyfriend, but as a lover, a friend, and confidant. Or, just a lover. Neither partner wants or needs anything more. When one of the two becomes involved in a committed relationship (if they ever do), the relationship is ended, and both go their separate ways.
But it’s not that easy is it? A wise, older lover of mine once said, “Someone always gets hurt,”, and indeed,he was right, someone almost always does hurt. I will not deny that at times, a complicated web can be woven, but it can be avoided if you’re clear about expectations and boundaries.
Oh yes, another thing that helps, consider these men as back-up only, and as such, you shall have a pool of qualified men to draw from. These men do not replace your search for ‘the one’. They keep you sane while you’re knee deep in the guerilla warfare of the dating world. My general rule of thumb is threefold; It must be good. It must be regular. It must be discrete.
If you’re at loss for words negotiating your new relationships, just say this, “Listen, there are rules. It must be good. It must be regular. It must be discrete.” That’s clear and fair.
I have wandered in and out of a few relationships over the years that were committed and monogamous, as have many of my wonderful women friends. That meant that any other sexual relationships were off the table. The friendships, with our part-time lovers were also ended. It’s just one element of casual sex-etiquette.
One other element of casual sex etiquette does involve communication, and as casual as it may seem, there is still a very delicate balance between the partners in this carefully choreographed adult dance. Lovers cannot be lovers if you do not like them or respect them.
Simple Rules to Follow for Boy-Toys and Back-Ups
1) Never forget that they are only temporary.
2) Never mistake them for a ‘date’. Do not invite them to weddings, funerals, family gatherings or work functions. Concerts and other anonymous party type activities are ok so long as they do not inhibit your ability to socialize with men who have potential to be a real partner.
3) If they have to spend the night because they’ve had too much to drink either make sure they have somewhere to be at 5am or set your alarm early and get them the hell out so you can go back to sleep.
4) Do not let them keep any of their ‘stuff’ at your place. No toothbrush, no razor, no extra undies and socks. Nada. Nothing.
5) The Boy Toy/Back-Up should follow etiquette and supply all condoms. You should have back up condoms and impeccable birth control and health safety practices.
6) They must be clean. Do not settle for someone who smells like the gym, work, dinner, or other icky stuff.
7) Whoever is entertaining should receive a token gift – bottle of wine, or token indulgence of their choice.
8) Both of you expect to ‘be on call’. The arrangement only works if you are both relatively satisfied and available (within reason).
9) No married guys. At all. Ever. Women do not hurt other women. There are grandfathering clauses, but let’s not even go there.
My fabulous snuggly gal pals, if you’re thinking you could use a little full-bodied snog, why not go for it? Are you being honest, is the gentleman trustworthy, do you wish a light snack during the fallow season?
If the answer is yes, yes, YES! I suggest you practice safe boy-toying and enjoy.
So, as myself and many of my gal-pals head into the dark months of winter, the question arises – why not indulge in some man-comfort-and-joy this winter? Why not indulge in the occasional (or frequent), scheduled intimate winterlude-interlude?
When all else fails follow this simple three point mantra: It must be good. It must be regular. It must be discrete.