I work in an environment that's very macho. Even the women who do that I do have to adopt the mask or be seen as weak. And part of the machismo is lots of sex talk and come-ons. No amount of sensitivity training, or the occasional banishment of an offender (like the one caught banging an intern in a supervisor's office) to, say, Afghanistan, changes the basic culture. I don't mind it, because I love to study sex, I like men, I can take care of myself and I hate PC shit. When people are in really stressful, dangerous jobs they need to blow off steam. But that's just me.
Ben desperately wants to fuck me. He's married, of course, and constantly complains about sex on the home front. His wife, Jennifer, is a mousy little thing and, to hear him tell it, only lets him fuck her once a month, always missionary style. "I bet you do every position in the kama sutra with those long legs of yours, Linda," he has said more than once. More than once, I have said, "I need a guy who has a dick longer than three inches, Ben." Which pisses him off. He's actually got big feet, but I won't fuck him. Too skinny. I don't typically go for blond men. And he's a graceless clod. (I also learned my lesson about fishing off the company pier with Mike, as wild and eye-opening as that affair was).
I did have an affair with Henry a few years ago. We were working very long hours alone and finally ended up fucking on a conference table, a very hot, very spontaneous thing. He's older and married. Maybe to his credit, he was beset with guilt and we only carried on a few more times. Sometimes I still give him a secret smile. I like it when nobody knows whom I've slept with.
We women talk about sex and men, too. Don't let anybody tell you differently. Sometimes it's sad. I had a drink with my friend Beth, who's a stunner, blonde, great body, in her early 50s but looks a decade or more younger. She's out of field work now, but smart, sexy. She's married to a very nice and attractive man, whom I've met. Anyway, over martinis, Beth said she and her husband hadn't had sex in two years (!). I wondered if she was having an affair. But, no. "I'm just not horny anymore," she said. God, save me from that fate. Sometimes women talk about the men they've shared; one particularly unfortunate lad was very good at getting his partners to give him head, in cars, wherever. But they started comparing notes and soon the entire unit knew that his unit was only three inches long.
We play a game out in the field: Would you sleep with (attractive man)? If so, would you sleep with (really unattractive man) to get him? I'm sure the guys do the same thing. When it's a mixed group, everyone tries to be careful, but it's, er, hard. Flirting and propositions are commonplace, especially among peers. Oh, if they knew my recent adventures as a cougar, much less with women. I tend to come across as quiet and bookish (and a very good shot).
In my wider world, where I'm just Linda who has a dull job at the Justice Department, things are less fraught with being accused of disclosing state secrets while getting laid. Bob and Tamara are both having affairs right now, and both apparently know. Tamara is my friend and she hates him for it. But she started it, seducing her boss. So they carry on. Holly's husband wanted to see her fuck another man, and after a long process, she did it. And really liked it. He enjoyed being cuckolded much less than he thought. Now it's a major stress in their marriage. I know: Sounds like a story out of the Kristen Archives, but this one's true. Holly have me a quite graphic account of the guy and the deed: He was quite the athletic, giving, well-endowed lover. Hubby watched, then stormed out when Holly started screaming and moaning the way she never did for him. Be careful what you ask for. Hubby looked really beaten down, that 5,000-yard stare, the last time I saw them.
Back at work, there's Susan, a young beautiful young thing who likes to project toughness, but she's incredibly naive. Also tightly wound and straight-laced. She's going through the sexist hazing right now and being propositioned. She strikes me as the type to report it and get us all in deep shit. I can see it coming now: New memos, and another sensitivity workshop.
I haven't been with Wendy in awhile, and that's fine. Every fling runs its course, and we're still friends. Not so with young Chad, who I kicked to the curb. So I guess I'm available.