Your Morning Quickie: Less Commitment, No Sticky Sheets, No Risks

16 Aug


You probably already know that my love life is a bit of a mess ( well, correction, let me be more positive…it’s just not what I have previously wished it to be) . So, I’ve decided to make decisions I wouldn’t normally make. I’m being a little more impulsive than usual. Yes, a big Yikes!

  • The corset has been shipped so I have a fun time coming with a blog review under my real name. I’ll give more salacious details here.
  • Yesterday I got an invitation to try a free sample of Zestra, a women’s topical application to enhance sexual stimulation. Why not? I just wrote to say yes. Bring It On.
  • Yesterday I had a lunch date with a 76 year old. I’ve never been out with someone significantly older so I figured why not. He’s a bit of a mess romantically so I’m not sure there’ll be a second date. He did manage to work into the conversation the obligatory statement about virility. Sigh…..
  • So, last night, feeling that I had nothing to lose… with glass of wine in hand, I wrote the 35 year old on OkCupid who has been looking at my profile. “Teddy” thinks I’m cute and has experience with older women. He’s not much on writing in complete sentences, but…. His second email asked “what are u looking for ??“. And, I have to admit a little shiver of delight washed over me. Not due to the poetic sweet way he writes “u”. Unwilling to put S-E-X out there I made some reference to flirtation, good conversation and the possibility of more……

There is as much potential in the 35 year old as there is in the 76 year old. But, I’m not feeling like I have the emotional state of mind to be serious right now so I’m playing the little girl in the candy shop!

Did I mention that 35 year old Teddy was posing shirtless? He’s a swimmer… (I’m breaking all my normal rules here) And, the 76 year old? He’s a retired farmer.

Yesterday was something else…


Deliriously Divine

She’s So Scandalous (steamy)

9 Aug

My thoughts turn to sensuous details. The look of desire that smolders in his eyes as we greet at the door.. the appraising look on his face as he takes in my clothes, my body, my cravings.

At 58 I am the sex kitten I couldn’t have even conjured up at any other time in my life. Relatively innocent when I lost my virginity in 1972. Full-time motherhood in my thirties. A gradual faint pulse awakening in my 40’s. Today, a deep throb pulsates slowly, heavily, as I listen to my iPod, sweating and gasping through a run/walk session on the treadmill.

The strain sends burning sensations up my calves and into the very core of my body. Velvet, dark chocolate, crisp sheets and the feel of skin against skin. The luxurious delights of a man’s touch. I imagine them as I listen to this song and force myself to keep running.

I’m thinking about the upcoming lingerie review and what it’s like to want to be sexy. And what it’s like to fully step into that and experience it fully. It means letting go, not thinking about the mundane or self-defeating thoughts women are prone to. Are my breasts sagging, what about the extra pounds, the scars and marks of birthing and life, will I satisfy him?

What does it mean to be sensuous at this age? Does it mean buying lacy bras or sexy nighties? Is it about having the right toys? Or is it a state of mind. The understanding of the pleasures of the flesh and a willingness to embrace them. Sometimes desire comes through exercise, just like a skill we work on developing. We set the mood, we play the part and gradually it begins to flow. We are that sensuous person and there is no more practice or discomfort involved.

How does it start? With preparation. The  body is primed and ready. The clothes picked with care. It may be a regular old pair of jeans, but the top is unbuttoned  to offer a glimpse of soft, creamy white flesh. The edge of black lace. As he walks by, my fingers caress his hair or touch his face. My body brushes up against his. I get quieter, softer.

Or maybe it’s a sassy sultry day and I show up in a lacy white short tunic with white lace-front boy panties. Barefoot, hair gently tussled. The kiss is teasing. I grab his lower lip and suck gently before letting go. I turn and walk ahead, swaying with intention. Feeling his eyes follow me. Smelling his urgency. We sit. I am across from him, legs casually propped up on the table as we pretend to drink our coffee. The panties reveal the curve of my ass, my nipples strain against the white fabric. I lean down to pick up an imaginary something from the ground, letting the deep v-neck of the blouse work for me. It’s fun. Powerful. Breath-taking to watch the results. It makes me feel scandalous.

He pushes me gently back on the bed,  clothes fall away and I shut my mind to everything but his touch. My body takes on a new form, it softens and opens. It welcomes the connection, flesh to flesh, raw emotion, desire, love.

Like a ripe fruit. Juicy, mature and willing. Eager to be devoured. This is the prime of my life. Scandalous. I love it, I want to shout it from the rooftops.



Goodies, Delights, Sensuous Treats and Birthdays!

6 Aug

Quick update here in the birthday week.

I am so excited about the corset thing! Some of you who have patiently followed me for years (gasp, it’s been that long) will remember that in the Joe v.1 years I was experimenting with the wild side. So, this invite from the corset company to take a spin with their products should be fun. They want a slighter older, maturer perspective–which I certainly qualify for! I gave them my thoughts about what the review would look like and then shared this blog with them! Eureka. They may offer me a goodie bag of delights to play with and promote here as well as the review which will officially go on another site under my real name!

I will be expecting you all to pay attention, spread the word… tell all your friends. About the product! Not me.

As I said I’m excited. But, I have to admit to being just a tad disappointed. I was expecting at least one salacious comment,  asking about bids for a play date. Geez, guys. Flatter a woman here!

Happy Monday.





Aging: The Good, The Bad and Occasionally, The Ugly

2 Aug

I’m old enough to remember that oldie  staring  Clint Eastwood was in his prime. Young enough to  protest over the whole “aging” thing.

Here is a snippet of my old age digest:

  • Got a invite this week to be the test guinea pig for a lingerie company that wants a  “midlifer” to try out one of their corsets. Of course I said yes and already have my target audience of one lined up. I don’t know exactly what they’re looking for? As in written vs. photographic review. Will be taking bids for additional viewings or play sessions. Contact me here, discreetly, with a bid!
  • Recently added some exercise to my daily life…I’m swimming at my mother’s retirement condo complex. Good news is that I’m slipping in and swimming alone (rules state you must swim with resident). Bad news is: Do people think I live there? ‘Cause that would suck to know that people assume I’m over 65!  Double-edged sword here. Quasi-depressing thought. Though, maybe I’ll meet a rich old coot in the pool who will be impressed with my physical prowess and offer to pay me to be his escort!
  • Sexting. It’s for seniors too. Had a rousing episode just last night. Memorable. Never assume that being over 55 signals the end of one’s sex drive! My partner? 63 years of age and closing on 64. You twenty and thirty-somethings. You’ve got nothing on us older folk. A twenty year old wouldn’t have had the endurance to last long enough to enjoy every drop of our conversation. As it turned out, we’re a perfect match, achieving a level of rapture within (texting) seconds of each other!
  • The whole invasive, tubes in all kinds of places, round of medical procedures is all over. The body/throat/stomach/intestines appear to be fine and intact. Got a throat stretch in the process, not to mention a thorough, healthy ‘cleaning’.  Only damage will be to the pocketbook.  (Note to you naysayers out there-under Obama Healthcare Colonoscopys are FREE, relatively speaking!) No more crap like that for another 10 years! Yippee.

Why this expose on my life as an “older” woman? I’ll be turning FIFTY EIGHT YEARS OLD next week. Holy Crap, Batman!


I Want Life To Be Easy

18 Jul

I can’t sit still. I need to work and yet a million things flow through my head. The rewrite, the moss on the roof, sticks in the yard, the forgotten payment I still haven’t mailed. Where to query? What can I do (as she pauses remembering the 2 lottery tickets from yesterday…win the lottery and then just delete the post) …

Sigh. I’m back.

I’m numb. Then I’m anxious. Restless, caught in a spiral of denials and letting go and regrets. Looking for a quick fix. An easy answer.

I want life to be easy.

It’s the statement that floats around my head these days. It’s not that I don’t understand the difficulty of life. It’s not that I haven’t encountered, tackled and continue to handle incredibly difficult situations. But, I’m not really accepting that Life Is Not Easy. That means I have to work harder. Like my life depended on it.

Where’s my safety net? Safety nets. Don’t we all have more than one?

I let go of one last week. It’s knocked me on my ass. It was the ‘don’t worry, I’m not really alone’ net. One I’ve been clutching to for years, almost 9.

Funny. I’ve had to let go of all kinds of shit in the last 30 days.

  • The colonoscopy/endoscopy procedures done under the same sedation. We all know that kind of letting go that entailed. Plus the trust that all would go well and nothing serious would be discovered.
  • The clog in my pipes. Water on laundry room floor, sewage in guest shower stall. TWICE
  • Four or five days without power. I lost a refrigerator and 2 freezers full of food. Every fucking condiment I owned had to be thrown away. All the wonderful jams, pestos, sauces, exotic mustards. Dumped. And, of course I can’t replace them all. The frig looked beautiful. I’ve always loved white space so a moment of rejoicing! (ha ha)
  • My vision of life as easy-peasy. No more thinking I can casually find work, money, fame, happiness, the best sex on the planet, the ideal man. It’s the casual part I am having to grapple with.

Hmm… Only five little deadly bullet points. It feels like more. It is. I let go of something, someone, I needed to let go of a long time ago. Done it before, but never permanently. My safety net. My love. The one I want but can’t have.

I  knew we’d never have more and have struggled mightily at times, expending life-sucking energy, to “be ok” with my choice. That’s what brings numbness, it keeps me from sitting on the left side of the sofa. Nostalgic over coffee on Wednesday mornings. Temporarily losing my sex drive (GAWD, I know, but really it’s a good thing…there is no one around to play with!) . Turning the bottle of Wild Turkey to the corner, like a bad boy, so I can’t see the label–which is way better than just drinking the damn stuff in one sitting.

Yes, I’m whining. Part grief, part story-telling. Part exorcism.

We all let go. Life isn’t easy for any of us. I know that. You know that. Some days are better than others:

Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you’re quick, but most days you’re speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us



Oh Shit, It’s Been That Long?

16 Jul

Sorry, ya’ll… not that anyone has checked in to see I was alive or had run off with a younger man.

Life just gets in the way. But, that’s my next blog.

I found my newest best-est friends today. Not sure they know that quite yet. The Midlife Gals. Oh God! Funny.

Here’s a sampling.

I’ll be back. Soon.

This is where you tell me you missed me and can’t imagine life without me. And, send money-

Bonus video!

How Not To Charm The Pants Off a Woman

16 May

Naughty me, I’m going to tell the story of a recent dating flop…because I can. I can’t share this anywhere else because I don’t want to be seen as the tattle-tale type. This is a story of what happens when a man lets his dick tell him what to do.

Let’s call him Arthur. I’ve never dated a man named Arthur so it seems safe.

Arthur contacted me on last Thursday through a free dating site. Newly separated but living in the same house. Kiss of death for me, but I agree to coffee on Sunday, after getting confirmation that he was dating ‘publicly’.

We met for a mere 90 minutes. Conversation flowed fairly smoothy and the peck on the cheek at departure was adequate. In less than 2 hours I get this text:” I find you interesting, passionate, beautiful, witty charming and somebody I love to be with,,,oh…and sexy as hell!”

OK. So, flattery is always wonderful and I knew I looked good that day. You know how you look in the mirror and instantly know if you look hot or not?

Monday morning I get an email, it’s waiting for me when I get up. Title: Good Morning Luv.

Tuesday morning, it’s just Morning. Here’s a snippet of his note:

was just thinking about how great a whole day would be.Something I do hope we can do soon. A whole day. Beginning to end.
Haven’t done that in a long time. Wake up(together would be optional)in AM do something you LOVE to do, PM something I LOVE to do and evening something we both lOVE to do. Wouldn’t that be great? It would be for me anyway. No distractions. just sharing our souls for an extended period of time. I’d enjoy that.

Now remember, we’ve had one brief date over coffee and no phone conversations just texting.

I push for a second date and we have dinner that night. Again less than 2 hours together. He’s getting all hot and bothered, I can see it in his eyes. He touches my hand a couple of times and as we walk to the car he grabs my hand. Kiss at car is a bit more personal but I keep it short in a basic “I don’t really know you yet”  kind of kiss. He saunters off to his car looking like a satisfied man. The conversation was pleasant but not riveting. I don’t offer up anything that indicates a growing interest. But, I do notice that he’s talking about all the things we’ll do over time and acts as if the engagement is about to be announced.

Wednesday morning: He calls me Magical in his email as he talks about how relaxed he is in my presence. Pants still zipped at this point.

Thursday morning, 5:29am : He starts with a poem-

“My minds distracted and diffused,
My thoughts are many mies away,
They lie with you when you’re asleep.
And kiss you when you start your day.

Some words to say good morning and to wish I was there next to you.”

Now, I love the art of seduction. And, like many women, flattery will often get you where you want to be. But this? Borderline creepy.

Me: Nice poem-lovely. And, here’s the thing. I don’t know yet if I will have the feelings that you seem to have. We’ve only had 2 dates, fairly short and I don’t have that sense yet. We are getting along nicely and connecting, but I’m not feeling as strong a romantic pull as you are. It’s lovely to be wooed in this way and very flattering. You are a very sweet man and I am enjoying getting to know you.

Maybe we can just take it a bit slower and see how things progress? I don’t want to give you false hope.

This unleashes this torrent of passionate declaration. Before I can even read the email he’s sending texts.  Instead of hearing me he goes on to write that if I would allow him to see me ALONE! that he could make me see how attracted to him I really am. He tells me he knows me better than I think he does.. .I wouldn’t let that man in my house for all the money in the world at this point!

Talk about a man who isn’t listening:

Me:  I don’t want to roll into bed with you just yet. I want us to take a
 leisurely amount of time really getting to know each other. Sex clouds the
 issue sometimes. Don’t you think?
Him:  I believe there is a sexual attraction or I simply  wouldn’t feel it either–and I do. We wouln’t be committing to sex, I
just want the chance to really woo you in the way that I really am. I think it would be very pbvious if we were feeling it being right in a
short period of time. I would like that chance.

I tell him again that he’s moving too fast. Slow down, back off… I teIl him to take a cold shower.

Him: I feels (in response to my question of what he means by wooing me)  like holding you in my arms and really kissing you–no limp little half ass attemps but really kissing you–speaking of asses, I happen to love yours.  I t feels like wrapping your body around me–clothing always optional–and feeling the real magic of touch saying all the things that are real. should be real and can be real. I know you. I know what you want and need.

End of story! I finally sent a succinct note saying nicely that we were done. And, I ignored the next 2 emails. And holding my breath as he’s still looking at my profile. I fear that he’ll be back.

Moral of the story? Don’t lead with your genitals.


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