 SEX..RANDOM EXCERPTS
Maxine Daley
...Coco Chanel says she gave up sex somewhere in her mid-fifties when she happened to catch a glimpse of herself naked in a full-length mirror. That's why it is so important to keep the body intact. If you think your body looks flabby, fat, ugly, it is very difficult to feel sexy because a woman is sexy in exact ratio to how sexy she believes she looks to a man. That's why more women are turned on by Playboy than by the men pictured in the now-defunct Playgirl. You see beautiful, young, female bodies in Playboy, exposing themselves in all kinds of imaginative situations, and you read yourself into it because we women are exhibitionists at heart. You see poor, vulnerable, unerected penises in Playgirl, and all you want to do is get the man a towel or, maybe, mother him a little with a cup of cocoa.
When you go to bed with a man, you feel loved and wanted--and you have someone to talk to. Everybody wants to feel loved and wanted. The trouble is, too many grown-up women are still looking for relationships in which they are not only loved and wanted during sex, but for always. But it is getting late in the day, so why can't we just let the "always" take care of itself, and enjoy the moment?
We have always gotten our fair share of sexual attention from young men because they thought we might be grateful, which, in truth, we were; and because they thought we might have some pointers to give them. But another reason was that they were terribly insecure with girls their own age, who were always putting them off. Then the young women, for better or for worse, got the Pill, and lost the paralyzing fear of pregnancy that their mothers had so carefully instilled. They started going to bed with men in great numbers and with great abandon and, so, for a time, we lost many of our promising young lovers. But today, the young men have drifted back--tired, worn, and frayed, but returning. Is it possible that the girls roughed them up?
Consider the scenario of one of the poor, young men being run ragged by a gang of lustful, demanding, and judgmental girls. The beleaguered lad is getting ready for a date. He dresses carefully in his custom made white percale shirt, knots his impecable tie, and slips into the coat of his elegantly cut suit. He jumps in his newly-washed car, and picks up his dinner date, who is young, nubile, and tanned. Before he's in third gear, her hand is on his knee. If it is a warm evening, she could be wrecking the knifelike crease in his pants. She presses up against him, rumpling his collar. She then asks where they are going to eat. He tells her, and she sighs..."Oh, it's always so crowded in there." She's right, and as they wait for their table, standing in a crush of people at the bar, she uses this excuse to plaster herself against him like a decal, gazing deeply into his eyes while she curls the end of his tie around her finger. At dinner, she has a terrible need to whisper something urgent in his ear, so she leans forward just far enough for one of her breasts to almost topple out and fuse with the soup. She has her hand under the table, and this time it has strayed to his thigh. Driving home, her fingers find the hair on the back of his neck, which gives him the wrong kind of chills, he hates anyone playing with his hair. By the time they arrive at her door, he is practically wearing her.
Human nature is perverse. Earlier, the idea of sleeping with her was very much on his mind, almost the only thing on his mind, but now she's ruined it. It appears that she only wants his body. Well, these days, almost everyone wants his body, and he tired of doling it out like bubble gum. He'll be damned if he's going to service her like some bull taking care of a cow.
Oh, you don't believe me. So don't then. I say it happens: Attractive men are not always at the disposal of overly-aggressive women.
11:05:50 AM 
|
|
