If my life were like "Sex and the City," I suppose I would have girlfriends with whom I could share every naughty thought and adventure. Alas, life isn't like television. That much was clear when I tried, ever so daintily, to mention my young men to my pals Jennifer and Kathleen.
Jennifer if in her early thirties, and effortlessly lovely. She has the kind of perfect hair that brushes along the nape of her neck, flawless fair skin. If I were in one of my girl phases, I would find her very attractive physically. She's married with two kids, but I don't even know if she's ever had an orgasm. She reminds me of my collehttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifge friend Megan, who refused to let her boyfriend go down on her -- she didn't want to lose control, she told me. (Please, let me lose control!!). This was no problem in jump-and-hump college, but then she met this older gentleman, who really wanted to love on her nether-regions. No, said Megan. Go figure.
Kathleen is older, creative, wonderfully smart and insightful. If I could peel Kathleen away, I know she would love to talk sex. She was very intrigued about my two young men, and pressed me for details. I thought Jennifer was going to pass out. She changed the subject as quickly as she could. I could feel her judging me...well, I was judging back. Kathleen observed that she always wanted to "fuck like a man," meaning just the sex and no emotional entanglements. I want to know if she fulfilled the quest.
So, yes, boys, we discuss sex and men, but not the same way I imagine males do. Sometimes I wish we did. My earthy sensibilities would be satisfied.