Boy Toy Joy!

Before I was a midlife single gal, I believed what they portrayed on TV about Cougars.  I was under the belief that Cougars preferred younger men so the arm candy would raise their social status and that it was usually some sort of higher form of prostitution.  The young man did favors…those of a sexual nature and otherwise…in exchange for a comfortable life while he chased his own dreams without the weight of his own financial obligations.  That’s mostly what we see on TV anyway.

It wasn’t long before I was dating again that I realized this was all wrong.  For every one man my age who has approached me online or in person, I’ve been approached by an equal number of men 10-25 years my junior.  I constantly hear from young college boys who say they just aren’t into girls their age or they want to be with an experienced woman.  Cynics say that younger men see older women as easy and that is likely true of some of them.   I think most young guys realize that we know a thing or two in the bedroom and they want to experience what it’s like to be with a woman who is comfortable with her sexuality.   For me, there is still such a thing as too young, no matter the reason.

My little journey with my Boy Toy wasn’t entirely intentional, well, I was looking for a play thing, but not one so much younger than I.  I have long bragged about midlife men being such amazing lovers because they aren’t in a hurry, they have learned how to please a woman (hopefully)and they’ve learned to gain utter pleasure by experiencing their woman’s pleasure.  So honestly, I was quite happy with my previous similar-aged lovers.

My path to Boy Toy all started when I was bored one day.  Despite all the crazy stories in the news, I’ve had great success on finding some real quality men on the craigslist personals.  If you read my blog about my first date in 20 years, you know I stumbled upon dating again after looking for a desk on craigslist, so sometimes you have to return to your roots.  Now, I purposefully stay away from the casual encounters section…well, unless I’m trying to entertain myself…you can’t make that shit up!  I had run several ads in the relationship section, as well as the strictly platonic section, too.  However, I always sorta wondered when I would read the casual sex ads just WHO would answer them? 

Just to give you an example of one of my favorite ads, which was quietly nestled between men looking for lactating women or lunch time cheaters, I found an ad I still laugh about today.  It was for a man offering to orally please a woman with nothing expected in return.  He said to leave the door unlocked and email directions to the bedroom.  He would enter the room and the foot of the bed, make you have an orgasm and then leave…but oh yeah, please leave milk and cookies on the nightstand!  My friends and I have countless milk and cookies jokes from this.  This guy was like a Santa of a different mindset I guess…still giving gifts, but enjoying a snack for his trouble!   See…you can’t make this shit up!

So back to my bored Wednesday…I decided I would run an ad just to see how men replied.  I had a feeling I would be inundated with penis pictures and lewd promises but actually, I only got one such picture and not really any lewd emails, just men bragging so I would choose them.  Honestly, I had no idea if I would reply to even one….I was just curious, and of course, bored.  I’m like that if you haven’t figured it out by now. ..ever-curious of midlife dating in all forms and fashions!

Here’s the Ad:

“Do you know your way around a woman’s body?  Are you fond of long slow kisses and not thinking of rushing to the next thing but enjoying the moment?  Would you like a woman that enjoys sex and is an enthusiastic, expressive partner who is as into your pleasure as her own?  Then please apply here.” 

It went on to say you had to have a job, not be married, enjoy sexting and have some available time.  It said to NOT send a pic of your ‘finer parts’ and that I wouldn’t have sex with them until I had met them a few times and trusted them.

Actually most of the men who replied seemed fairly decent.   I had three I talked to a bit and decided I would meet.  One of them asked me out for that Friday night…we can call him “close call” as I think he really was a scumbag, but both of my girlfriends liked him the best when we were going through the replies.  However, two hours before the date, he told me had a problem at work and was going to have to reschedule.  He tried for the following night but I was seeing Timid Tom on Saturday and told him that Tom was leading in my search so I would likely have the position filled once I met him anyway.   I had also been talking to Boy Toy, but because of his age, I hadn’t agreed to meet up with him just yet.  So when “close call” cancelled, I asked Boy Toy if could meet me later and he agreed! 

Close Call ended up texting me…from home…at the exact time we were supposed to meet asking me to come to his house and have sex with him.  I said, dude, you have not been paying attention.  Obviously, I never would meet him, but he still texts me every couple of months and tries again.  Shameful.   Timid Tom will be for another blog perhaps…back to Boy Toy.

We met up at a Mexican restaurant.  Boy Toy was a big strapping young man who had played football in high school, went on to be in the coast guard and was now a welder.  Girls…if you’re looking for a friend with benefits only, getting a man who is good with his hands should definitely be at the top of your wish list!  

We had a great chat and it wasn’t long before I wished I could take the table between us and throw it to the side, straddle his lap and kiss him!  There was palpable chemistry.   Of course I didn’t do that but it would have been fun!  We finished our drinks and he walked me to my Mini-van, god I hated that thing (actually Timid Tom helped me get rid of it, thankfully!)  Leaning against my mommy van, he gave me some amazingly raw kisses with these soft and pillowy lips of his.  Oh yes…he was definitely friends with benefits material and I was content to choose him for the job. 

Although I didn’t know it just yet, Boy Toy is the one man I’ve met so far who has a stronger sex drive than I do…and just how much younger is he?  I thought it was only 9 years, only to find out a few weeks later he was actually 12 years younger!   He didn’t lie about his age, I just misremembered when reading those 200+ emails I got from my ad.  As the kisses deepened and his arousal pressed up against me while I was splayed against my mini-van door,   there was no denying we were going to be a good sexual chemistry match!  My bored Wednesday experiment had just exploded into a fireball of passion…to find out more about some of our sexcapades…tune in for my next blog! 

Don't Buy the Lie!

If you’ve been divorced (or never married) and are in midlife, male or female, you’ve heard time and time again that you shouldn’t NEED someone in your life.  You are ENOUGH by yourself.  You need to LOVE being single.  You have read articles and list after list of all the reasons why you should be so blessed to be all YOU need in your life! 

No one needs these lists for being coupled.  You don’t have to be told by a thousand experts why you are lucky to be in a healthy, loving relationship.  You don’t have to be told because already know!  No one has to remind you why companionship, affection, acceptance and comfort is good…our whole being…mind, soul, heart and body knows it’s good.    

So why do people work so hard to convince us that being single is the ultimate, and only after you find yourself incidentally single?  Doesn’t society tell us from day one that the ultimate goal is to be married with a white picket fence and 2.2 perfect children, a well-paying job, new cars, enviable vacations and plenty of fabulous friends? 

But the second we find ourselves uncoupled, well, we have to hear endless people, including all the “experts” tell us why we are lucky. Then almost in the same breath, those who care for us pummel us with questions about our status…are you dating?  Are you dating anyone special?  Then when you answer no, you see their disappointed faces and either you tell them some line about why you aren’t looking (even if you are) or they tell you how the world is your oyster and you should be loving it.

It can’t be both ways, folks! 

Now granted, if you’ve been through a midlife divorce, you have undoubtedly had people come out of the woodwork to tell you how much they dislike being married.  Or you can now use your post-divorce-spidey-sense to see that many people really aren’t happy with their relationships despite how happy they make it look on facebook. 

Honestly, it’s the ‘experts’ (who by and large, aren’t even single) that go on and on about how we need to be content with our singleness.  Even in my church-going days, the married women would say…”Once you are content being single is when your husband will come along.”  Really?  No!  This is why the second any of us, male or female, meet someone we have a spark and connection with we turn into mushy teenagers at the speed of lightning! 

We are also urged to appear fierce in our singleness, neglect vulnerability and therefore feel we can’t openly express our very basic God-given need…which is relationship.  And heaven forbid we be real about this common need on a dating profile!  The person of the opposite sex has now been programmed to read that must be needy, clingy, desperate or looking for a sugar daddy if you mention your real desire to find someone.  Um…hello!  Aren’t we on dating websites to find love?  Let’s just agree to be real about THAT little known fact, which by the way, is backed by a two billion industry.  Yeah, those moguls are laughing all the way to the bank at the games we play and the lies we’ve bought into that prevent us from really finding love and keep us coming back for more…because they know unless we change our mindset, we will make the same mistakes time and again. 

Don’t get me wrong…I’m a pretty independent person.  I’m determined, driven when I want to be, intuitive and a great problem solver.  I’m also an introvert by nature (except in the bedroom), a fairly peaceful and quiet person (again, except in the bedroom)…and I NEED and crave alone time (except in the bedroom!)  There are things I enjoy about being single and being free of expectations someone else might put on me.  But what if it brings MORE joy to my life to be able to cook for someone else, to do something loving or sacrificial for the person I care about vs doing that same thing JUST for myself.   What if fulfilling those expectations for someone else, which is the ultimate expression of love, actually makes your life better?

I don’t need a man to complete me.  Nor would I want to be with a man who needed someone to complete him.  I’ve always liked the 1 x 1=1 thinking about couples versus the two halves make a whole.  But I do want to complement him and for him to complement me.  (That’s complement…as in add value to or enhance, but compliments are always great, too!)  I am looking for a man that makes me a better version of myself and I would like to feel I am the same for him.  This, of course, doesn’t mean when I am not dating someone I am a lesser person, either.

What’s wrong with admitting we would like someone to eat dinner with at the end of the day, discuss our happenings, world events and laugh at life’s little mishaps?  What’s wrong with wanting to wake up with someone who doesn’t look their best in the morning?  What’s wrong with knowing your coffee time would be just a little better if you were sitting snuggled close to someone on the couch?  Then there’s knowing that parties are harder to go to alone and having someone to just call or text during the day when it’s a particularly good one or even when it’s not so good, makes the day just a little bit better.  And of course, sex…don’t even TRY to pretend it’s better alone…as I always say…(okay, Marvin Gaye said it first) “Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby!”  And those that would argue no-strings-attached sex is more desirable to sex with a loving partner who you can sexually engage any time you want, I say “Bollocks!”   

So I’m giving myself permission and I’d love for yourself permission, too…sure we can be complete, whole and emotionally stable singletons who aren’t desperate to be completed by some other person.  We can be strong, we can know what we want….and what we want is to find love!  It’s okay to admit it to yourself!  It’s okay to say it out loud!    It’s okay to put on your dating profile!  It’s okay to share with your date!  It’s okay to be who really are, to freely feel and express what you really need…that’s confidence, that’s independence, that’s damn sexy!  

Skin on Skin

Ah…is there anything better?  I’m not even talking about the sensation of purely sexual contact but more full body embraces, cuddles, hugs, spooning.  Ah!

I think one of things I miss most about being single is the lack of hugs, little touches and of course, kisses.  Don’t get me wrong, there was none of that for the last few years of my marriage aside from my ex-husbands’ obligatory kiss on the cheek when he left for work, which eventually irritated me.  And even one thing I admittedly miss about church is all of the hugging that goes on.  I do still get some daily hugs since I am fortunate that at least my youngest kiddo hasn’t gotten to the “it’s not cool to hug mom at this age” stage, but while kid and friend touch feels amazing, it is still vastly different from the touch of a man.    

I find deep hugs, smoldering kisses and full body embraces far more intimate that just the act of sex itself and possibly more satisfying.  Both Tantric sex and the practices of the Kama Sutra include this as part of their instructions because it increases arousal, desire and intimacy.  They include this sort of touch both before and after the act of intercourse itself, sign me up!  Skin on Skin hugging could easily become my drug of choice…I might even give up my current one for it…coffee. 

On a scientific level, hugging releases oxytocin and is nicknamed “the most amazing molecule in the world” and the “love molecule.”   Oxytocin can be released through hugging, hand-shaking, bodily contact of any kind and it floods our bodies during orgasm.  Do you know what amazing things it can do for us?  It is a diet aid, antidepressant, reduces stress by reducing cortisol and blood pressure, as well as decreases pain.  It is shown to improve several functions of the GI tract and increases digestion.  It also helps women during Labor and Delivery and is released during breast feeding.  Emotionally, it induces optimism, increases self-esteem, builds trust and decreases social anxiety. 

In reference to partners, It increases the desire for couples to gaze at each other (that would explain a LOT), creates arousal and maintains erections.  It’s like the sexual aid that keeps on giving back to itself.  One of the most interesting studies they’ve done on Oxytocin is that it increases generosity…by up to 80%!  They were referring to generosity of material things or giving someone a helping hand, but back to my definition of great love and sex as defined by both submitting to each other, a different act of generosity, isn’t oxytocin bound to make us better lovers and better people?  It all comes full circle.  One article I read said it makes us human.

For me, lying naked in the arms of a special man, embracing so completely you can’t get enough of him, feeling his warm breath in my ear, being together in the most vulnerable way possible…skin on skin… is both simply and breathtakingly beautiful.  It brings fulfilling joy that very well might make me become addicted to skin on skin. 

Just crawl

About a month ago a friend and I were discussing an article called "Four pieces of sex advice from a 98 year old woman."  And if you didn't guess already, yes, I want to be her when I grow up!  She has some frank wisdom, especially the last two pieces of advice and you can read them for yourself, here...

 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/09/17/sex-advice-98-year-old-woman_n_3940366.html?ir=Divorce

 As we were discussing the article via email, I described my thoughts like this:

"To me great love and great sex both are about constantly submitting to the other persons’ wants and needs.  If you are both doing this then you are both getting your own needs met as well."

 This sounds so simple, both in sex and life/love, so why is it so difficult to put into practice?  I think if many people were honest, they would look and see that they are often self-serving in the beginnings of their friendships and relationships.  How many times have we been told that we should be asking “What’s in it for me?”  Then there are some people who only give so that they will receive...they totally miss being able to experience the joy within the act of sacrifice.  I would ask what do you have to offer?  What are you putting in?  What are you willing to put in?  Are you attempting to surrender yourself in a loving way?  Surely we have to be wise in whom we can trust, but you also have to have an attitude that ceases looking for problems.   It’s also common, especially with online dating and seemingly countless choices, it’s easy to get distracted by the next shiny object before you’ve let anything develop with the person you’re currently interested in.

Mrs. J, my therapist, told me she sees it time and time again …people quit a relationship before it ever really starts because of some stupid, insignificant reason!   I know we all have this unspoken list of deal-breakers whether we want to admit it or not!  I once talked to a man I enjoyed for weeks before we met in person and I thought we were going to hit it off well.  I had seen his shaded glasses in pictures before meeting but convinced myself his glasses were not HIM and I was being petty.  However when we met, the glasses reminded me of the ones pedophiles on news stories have worn in mugshots…I felt terrible, but I just couldn’t get past it.  Despite being very disappointed, I had to realize I was shallow but I know we all have those triggers.   

We also search for perfection, but let’s face it, we should know by now that we are all flawed.   Galway Kinnel said “Let our scars fall in love.”  I’ve always said this…”we all have flaws, you just have to find a particular set of flaws you can live with!”  Flaws can be really beautiful, actually, so give them a chance.  They make us unique, they are created by our experiences, both good and bad, they make us real.  If we are really seeking something authentic, we have to decide how many of those silly deal-breakers really matter in the grand scheme of life and throw out our rules in order to be fully in the moment.  There’s always going to be a certain level of risk…but the old saying is true, “nothing ventured, nothing gained!” 

From the book I am reading, “If the Buddha dated” she likes to use the phrase “crawling in love” versus “falling in love” which makes me envision a warm, cozy and safe place that I find comforting.   I love the way the author puts it:

“Crawling in love is different from falling in love, or in lust, because you stay connected to your intelligence.”   “When we craw in love we are more likely to find the true fire of hearts meeting because our bond is based on a wide array of experiences, time together, familiarity, and the ability to talk over conflict.  Sex and love will flourish alongside the rich, warm feeling that comes from an enduring bond where people dwell in each other’s hearts.”

Is this a set of rules?  I think not, but I do believe its sound advice.  Acting upon it, however, requires me to attack my own thoughts, abandon rules and pretense, be aware of my insecurities,  be mindful of ‘what is’, stay connected to my intelligence, enjoy making sacrifices, let feelings flourish and just crawl.  

An Ode to the Leg Man

Well, not an Ode exactly because I’m not a poet, we’ll just call it a tribute!   As you know, based on my “purely anecdotal research”, I believe there are broad-based personality traits that accompany a breast man, leg man and ass man.  You can read more about my theories here: http://datingaftervirginityanddivorce.blogspot.com/2013/09/what-kind-of-man-is-he.html

As I stated before, I really needed to have the opportunity to be with another leg man, preferably one who wasn’t British and I finally got my chance.  And you know what I figured out?  I’m a leg-man girl, I mean woman!  It’s not that I don’t completely enjoy being with the Alpha Ass-man, I do.  But if some cosmic force made me choose between a leg man, ass man or breast man for the rest of my life, there’s no question how it would play out.   I would scoff at the thought of being with a breast man the rest of my life…in fact, as much as I like sex, I might become celibate!   Choosing an ass man would be a great option, but from my own personal experience, they like the ‘quick and dirty’ and are more men of action than words which definitely have its place.  Undoubtedly,  I would proudly, excitedly and confidently choose the leg man! 

My recent leg man did amazing things to my body, from head to toe, from hip to hip, from ear to ear, my whole body.  He didn’t just check off the usual actions to get what he ultimately wants, but instead, lavished his touch all over me.   I felt worshipped, I felt all my body flaws were completely unnoticed, I felt beautiful and I felt the most relaxed I’d ever felt with someone the first time I’d been with them.  

I’ve often described that the feeling of being with a leg man is the same for me as that feeling after you’ve had a massage at a nice spa.   You know that calm, quiet, warm, relaxed feeling when the therapist leaves the room…that’s how I feel while I’m with a leg man.  A leg man knows how to seduce my mind far before he starts to seduce my body…and that my friends, is a REAL man!  The relaxation I find is not just from the way he touches me, or knows my mind, it’s also the joy of doing things I enjoy doing to him, getting to know his body, his turn-ons and the collaboration of our creativity in exploring each other.  

It’s like poetry in motion, a beautiful storm, a flight of freedom, a safe place to just BE.  It’s being touched mind and body by a leg man.

I must be okay!

I must be okay...

 

Sorry about my absence, dear readers, I was in the midst of a move and without any strong and sexy men to help me...timing sucks!  Anyway, my mind has been reeling in a million directions and I'm struggling to find my quiet place, listen to my thoughts and find the brain space to write.  For someone like me, I must write and it gnaws at me until I do.  For years I sent out emails to hundred of subscribers that almost always were preempted by stress and therefore my therapy.  There have been crazy, stressful, emotional days that I felt like I needed to run to the nearest computer, where I couldn't type fast enough.

 

Thankfully, through the magic of divorce, time, and a multitude of other changes, my life is much less stressful these days.  Sure, I have single mom stress, running a household stress, career related stress but most days, most days its a peacefully managed chaos.  Okay, except those days I am wonderfully distracted by boys, (yes I am still that 15 year old girls sometimes), and wondering if he will text, call, ask me out and did he like me really or not? 

 

I think I've mentioned before I started going to therapy this summer.  I find no condemnation in this...if I had a mom I probably wouldn't need therapy, but basically, I need a slightly older woman to listen to me and relay her perspective back to me.  My best friend is great at that, but sometimes it nice to have someone totally unbiased to do it, so yes, some days I feel like I am paying for a big sister, but I'm embracing it! 

 

Although Mrs J is a therapist by profession, we aren't really doing any modules of "therapy".  I've long pondered if she ever sits down and wonders "why is she here?"  Not because I'm overly confident in my psychological soundness...I have plenty of flaws, but I do happen to know I am fairly analytical and have good self-reflective skills which is often not the case with other patients.  I guess she really is part of my dating life, because at this point, I know what I want and I know she will tell me if I am heading down a path different from what I have told her.  Because I have screwed up boundaries with friends, I want her to police me in making sure I don't make the same mistakes with men.  So that's her role, besides being my older, calmer sister-for-hire.

 

Mrs J and my gal pal in New Zealand are really the ones who encouraged this blog.  Almost every week Mrs J tells me "You really need to write a book!"  I finally asked her a month or so ago if she told all her patients that, assuming she hears a lot of great stories on that couch, but she assured me I was only the third person she had told.

 

Mrs J is a pretty, southern conservative, church going, husband adoring, super mom and giving midlifer who

probably is often shocked about some of the stories I share with her, which of course I am sharing with you (there are more to come, be assured.)    Today, we were talking about dating and I was relaying the two questions men try to ask before even meeting that always surprise me.  (Hints...one is about grooming, the other is about back door play.) She was telling me I would make a great sex therapist because I am rarely shocked.  I am having a little career crisis and she's always trying to figure out advice for that, this is her latest, and she mentioned the book again.  I probably would make a damn good sex therapist...great idea Mrs J.  She is never judgmental about my particular love of sex and how open I am, really about everything in my life.  She doesn't over-psychoanalyze my childhood or my past choices in life.  I would be fine with her doing so if she felt the need, by the way.

 

We continued talking and at one point she said to me "Leah, you have taught me SO much!  In fact, I feel bad filing your insurance."  She went on to explain that so many women she sees in my stage of life aren't nearly as open as I am and so she doesn't have to read between my lines, which will help her in the future with others.  I get that open thing a lot.  I love that I'm so open but I also worry not everyone finds its so endearing, or a positive attribute, but I'm taking this as a seal of approval.  After all, if Mrs J says I'm okay and that's good enough for me. 

 

 

My real-life episode of Sex and the City

This experience could totally be an episode of Sex in the City.  It was one of those times that you are scrolling an inner dialog thinking, “Did this just really happen, or have I been slipped a mickey and imagined it all?”

For whatever reason, I tend to attract and get on well with British men, my BFF says I’m a Brit magnet.  My own theory is because they know HOW, and more importantly, WANT to get to know a woman’s mind.  Or at least find out what you really think about things and then say great lines like “You have a brilliant mind!”  Hey, it works on me.  I find most American men don’t care at all what we think and it drives me crazy.  If I could find a way to only date expats I would be a happy girl, no not because of the accent, but let’s be honest, it is definitely a bonus!

I happened upon “Brit2” online.  We actually had sent long and frequent emails and texts off and on for weeks.  He was more reserved as all Englishmen are,  and therefore took his time before setting up a lunch.  (I now have my own policy not to talk to anyone longer than two weeks online before meeting in person, but hey, I was still a rookie.)    He, like catalyst, requested we not exchange photos, which on the upside makes you feel like a kid on Christmas morning when you are about to meet. 

I asked him to meet me at my Indian restaurant for lunch.  He was extremely laid back, very British-looking, very interesting to chat with and we were having a brilliant time.  He suavely came over to my side of the booth and sat next to me and that’s when I started feeling sparks. 

Unfortunately, I had an appointment with my trainer about an hour and a half after we met so there wasn’t a chance to linger.  However, he did a very sweet thing, followed me to the gym and then we talked and kissed in the parking lot for a couple of minutes and went our separate ways.  Overall, I felt we had a very good date and I was looking forward to seeing and kissing him again.

We texted more that day but I actually had a dinner date too.  My dinner date, who I will call Mr Green, had met online just a couple of days before.  He had been honest enough to tell me he hadn’t quite left his wife yet and seemed to be a big mess.  Call me a softie but I remember feeling helpless at first so I offered to meet him for dinner, but made it very clear I was just paying it forward and wasn’t interested in anything more than being his friend.  He agreed and then picked a very nice restaurant for us, actually.

Honestly, I let him do most of the talking.  And boy did he spill his guts, including telling me he had barely had any sex in 15 years because he couldn’t get it up because he might be attracted to men and was confused.  This was a little more than I bargained for...this man didn’t need a friend, he needed a therapist!

My safety friend checked in and I replied “I’m fine…he’s harmless.”

We were about an hour into it when I say “I really wanted to go ahead and meet you b/c someone paid it forward to me, he was my catalyst and I want to be able to do the same for other people.”   Then I happen to mention right after that my Catalyst was British and he immediately hops on it and it says “Your British friend doesn’t happen to be named ‘*******’ does it?  He’s in a science occupation and lives in a xyz town?”  He perfectly described Brit2…my lunch date!

I’m an open book, an honest gal, as real as they come so I replied, “No, catalyst name is ****, but I had lunch with ****** earlier today!”  I sat there, mouth gaping at how odd this was turning out to be…I mean I was already inwardly gasping at all the crazy personal sexual stuff he shared and now this!

Mr Green then says “Oh, well my wife had a fling with him {Brit2} years ago!”  Then he went on to tell me details of that and he and his wife’s situation and that she also might be gay.  I’m not a judgmental person…the only time I tend to have opinions is when people won’t just be who they are and own up to their flaws and mistakes. 

Shortly after this, he went to the restroom, during which time I did what ANY girl would do…I texted my two best girlfriends and said “Meet me for coffee at 8:45…I am having the craziest experience and will ONLY tell you in person!  You are NOT going to believe it!”

We ended the date and Mr Green wanted to know what I was going to do about Brit2.  I said I wasn’t sure yet, but told him I would not tell Brit2 any of what he told me. 

So I sped to where both the gals were waiting for me with coffee.  I was about to burst because I wanted to laugh and roll my eyes at myself.  We get through the preliminary hi’s and they had all kinds of grand ideas about what I had to tell them but of course, who the hell could guess the truth?

I start relaying the story of the date and then I said “And then he tells me that Brit2 and his wife had an affair years ago!”  They gasped and then guffawed!  This could only happen to me.  What are the fucking chances that I could meet two men in the same day, from two different dating sites, and end up going out with men who had that kind of coincidence?  Life is stranger than fiction.

As we sipped our coffee and ate our blackberry cobbler while laughing at my day, that’s when I knew I was in my very own episode of sex and the city, only I was wearing slightly more comfortable shoes.  

Sex and Spice and everything nice

I had only tried Indian food one time before I met Catalyst.  I went with one of my friends who is a vegetarian figuring she would know all about I but it turned out that it was her first time too, so we ate some mighty tasty spicy food that we had no idea how to pronounce or interprets!  Even before “meeting” Catalyst in person, he talked about curry coma’s and naan bread so much that I found myself going to the Indian restaurant just so I could have a point of reference.  I would get stuff off the buffet, text him a picture and he would tell me about it with great flourish and detail.   I even got invited to a birthday dinner to a upscale Indian restaurant…he was so kind to look online at the menu and help me place my order.  That was quite a day, now that I recall…not only furthering my Indian food education, but the beginning of so much more for us. 

We texted about everything and yes, we started texting loads about sex too.  We talked about our past experiences, both good and bad.  His ex-wife had been a lot more adventurous than my ex, so he would share about things I’d never heard anyone talk about and sadly, how he had only received one blow job that ended terribly and never had another.  We talked about what we liked and didn’t like or would like to experience.  We talked about safe sex and getting tested for STD’s, birth control and more. 

Eventually, we even sexted…in fact, the first time we did was the very day of that birthday dinner.  It all started when I mentioned that I was going to read a book that everyone was talking about called “50 Shades of Grey.”  He said he had just gone to lunch with folks from work and they were talking about it.  At this point, I genuinely had no idea what the book was about, but he had learned on his lunch break and there, started our natural flow of conversation that led to my first experiences in sexting.  I was noticeably hot and bothered during that birthday dinner because we just couldn’t stop the naughty talk.  If only those gals knew why I was so attached to my phone that day, even I would have been blushing!  Although it was all new to actually type some of THOSE words, it felt exhilarating, freeing and honestly, natural somehow.

  There seems to be a lot of misconceptions about what sexting is and is not, and I supposed it can be different for each person.  For me, it is talking about what you wish you were doing to your guy and him in turn, talking about what he wishes he was doing to you.  Sometimes it ends with mutual satisfaction, sometimes not.  For some reason, sexting is just a little,well, a lot more exciting when you know at least one of you is in a crowded place or meeting, etc.  We’ve heard a lot about “sexting” recently because of Anthony Weiner.  However, they’ve only mentioned sending pictures and being that women aren’t visually stimulated for the most part (no, guys, pictures of your finer parts do not make us want to instantly jump you), I find this to be a very incomplete definition.    Regardless of the definition, everyone should give it a try with your significant other…”try it Mikie, you might like it!”

Finally the day came where Catalyst and I were both ready to make all those fantasies a reality, or something to that effect!  The good point of sexting before actually being with someone new is, you get a fairly good idea of what they really like and what might be a turn off to them.   For instance, I knew what had went wrong with that BJ (too much teeth) and wanted nothing more than to change his negative experience into a positive one. 

Both of us took off from work to have our first time together.   As soon as my kids were on the bus, I drove about an hour to his apartment.  I was so excited, so nervous, but yeah, more excited than anything else.  Okay that’s not totally it, after weeks of sexting  I was also horny, really horny. 

From our sexting, I knew Catalyst liked bra and panties but not necessarily lingerie, so I had bought a very sexy lacy pair of panties and a lacy bra.  It’s funny when you know you are PLANNING to have sex…especially when it will always go down in your history book.  Remember this was my first time post-divorce and second person ever, so there was some pressure building!  

Well, we did a quick little introduction, we were still standing just inside the doorway.  Catalyst gently grabbed my face started kissing me and I believe that it was maybe 4 minutes before he was approving of my lacy undergarments!  Remember it was just 9am…and being a bachelor, he had blinds but not curtains, so it was complete daylight!  There was no way to hide my lumps and bulges, the signs of gravity, all of the imperfection…yikes!   Lucky for us ladies, men have a tell-tale physical sign of their approval, so there’s no second guessing there…whew.  I did have to learn that when a Brit says “Nice” it’s not the same as an American one.  Nice is the kiss-of-death from an American man, but for a reserved Englishman, it means “wOwZer!”  But they would never say that. 

I won’t go through all the explicit details, but it was way better than my honeymoon…way better than even my best experience with my ex-husband…way better than any of that sexting and so much better than I had imagined.   Yes we did a lot of things we had talked about…he introduced me to new physical experiences guaranteed to be added to my repertoire…so again in another way, ever earning the moniker “Catalyst!”

Can we say SEVENTEEN ORGASMS?  Well I probably couldn’t when he got finished with me.  It was like something hidden away for so many years, broke inside of me.  Now, my ex-husband was good to me…I always got one, maybe two orgasms on occasions.  But let me just say, he could never find the g-spot, although I’m pretty sure if I had put a field goal pole there he might have tried harder but nope, he was never patient enough to really try.  However, Catalyst knew just where to find me, he knew just where to touch me, he knew just where to put his hands, use his mouth, make me feel every bit as sexual as I always knew I was and he made orgasms roll out of me over and over again.  I had no idea my body could even respond that way!   

After three hours of intense pleasure, we had to do what any reasonable, curry-loving, post-orgasmic people would do.  We took a break and went to the Indian restaurant.   I sat across from him, enjoying our food, listening to him tell me more about what I was eating, all the while wondering if the other people in the restaurant could see any signs of what had just happened to me.   Could anyone else see that I had just had this life-changing sexual experience?  Did anyone look at my messed up makeup and semi-mussed hair and then give Catalyst a knowing glance or thumbs up?  Wait…what did Catalyst just say about Dahl?   My mind was mush.

Catalyst had coined a term “curry coma” for that endorphine release you feel after eating very spicy food.  We got back to his apartment and lay on the bed…content.   But before we left our happy little bubble where he would return to work and I would go back to suburbia and mommy world, we just had to have more of each other.   There was more kissing, more touching, more all-things-oral, more completion of pleasure and more contentment for both of us. 

I drove home in a blissful daze, giggling and smiling all along the way.  I sat on my own couch with my mind and body completely exhausted in the best way possible.  I don’t remember a lot more about the rest of the day, but I do know this…now every time I have sex, I have this overwhelming and certain craving for Indian food. 

 I’ll admit I’m addicted…to curry, that is, okay and maybe earth-shattering orgasms too!  If only those were as easy to acquire as good Tikka Masala!   

How I learned to use a condom from a cute, happening, 28 year-old blonde chick

After my first date was under my belt and I continued to see Catalyst, I started to think about having sex again!  Honestly, despite my high drive, because I wasn’t looking to date when I stumbled upon Catalyst, I had not given it much thought.  But here it was, staring me in the face!  When you’ve only been with one person and you’re going to have sex with someone new after 20 years of the same ole thing, you can have some odd thoughts.  There’s the crazy things like, “Does everyone do it basically the same?  I mean, my husband taught me all I knew, what if he didn’t teach me right?  What if my best move with my ex is actually laughable to someone else?  He taught me how to do a blow job, too, what if the way I do it is a turn off to another guy?  How covered up can I stay the first time I have sex with him?  Do I really have to let him see me completely naked?  Will he laugh?  Will he be sorry?  Will he just not care?  Will he be one of those men I’ve heard about and its over in 10 minutes?  Would that be a good thing or a bad thing?  Men our age have plumbing problems, what will I do with that little surprise?  What will it be like to have sex with a condom on?  Wait, I could possibly get pregnant with someone with different swimmers?  What I am going to do about birth control?  Oh dear, STDs are pretty high among folks our age, what is it I have to do about that again?”

I live in a close facsimile to a “Stepfordville” community.  I knew I could find out about birth control from my friends, but they had all been married for almost as long as I have and none of us know anything about today’s safe sex.   When I got married in the early 90s, we were just learning about STD’s, especially ones like AIDS.  I mean, some of them have been around forever, but those were only for the promiscuous and I certainly didn’t fit that category.  In fact, they were still trying to figure out if you get AIDS from kissing when I was walking down the aisle.   As you may know, I was a virgin, I trusted my husband and I never had to give safe sex a single thought.  Fertility did not run in my family so I never even prevented pregnancy…like ever!   (Sidebar…anyone else hear Taylor Swift when you see the phrase “Like Ever?”)

So I decided to go see my a happening, young blonde chic I knew who could “help a sista out.”  I scheduled an appointment with my cute, perky, YOUNG doctor…it was time for an annual checkup anyway, kill two birds with one stone as a bonus, great!  Let me just say, with all this positive change in my life, I was glowing!  I had lost weight, I was finding myself, I was having a blast with Catalyst, I was woman—hear me roar and I could light up a room.   So Dr A walks into the exam room and says “Whoa…what happened to you?  You’re radiant!”  I told her I had gotten a divorce since I had last seen her (I’m one of those go-to-the-dr-once-a-year types) and she immediately changes her bright smile to a serious face.  She then said “I’m sorry!”  I said, “No,no, no it’s a good thing, that’s why I look this way!”  She then said “You lost 200 pounds of dead weight?”  EXACTLY! 

She does her thing…All the normal things like checking skin, listening to my chest and then all the somewhat embarrassing lady-part things that you have you to give yourself a pep-talk through.  Once I’m no longer spread eagle, trying to pretend that the little paper gown does anything at all and regain my composure, I tell her I really need some guidance.  I explain I am hoping to have sex with my new friend and I have no idea what to do about safety or birth control.  Dr A was so funny, she literally jumped up and down with excitement, like five or six times even!  Who knew doctors could have that much cuteness and personality?

She gives me my birth control options, a prescription, a talk on safety, a little how-to education and leaves the room.  Let me also share with you that I went to a private school. ..An independent Baptist one and not so much because my parents were as strict as the school was, but because it was cheap for a private school.  We had a rather rotund headmaster who made it the rule that guys and gals had “To stand as far apart from each other as Brother B**** is wide!”  So I wasn’t even afforded the awkward safe sex talk in high school, in fact I’m not even sure those people knew that people have sex.  But that was a whole host of scientific knowledge ago, so it wouldn’t matter now anyway, although I would have loved to have seen them put a condom on a banana!   So here I was, getting my first thorough sex talk at 40-something.  And although, I’m the friend that everyone sends the dirty jokes to that they wouldn’t share with anyone else, I’m  also the friend that is known for saying something totally unexpected and sexual, and I’m the open book person, even I was slightly embarrassed! 

After talking, she even convinced me I should get tested for STD’s just in case my husband had done anything I didn’t know about, which I agreed to do.  After I get dressed and ready to leave Dr A’s office, I see her in the hallway.  She has a huge grin on her face and says “Now you have a GREAT time and don’t do anything I wouldn’t’ do…oh, who am I kidding?”

And that’s how I learned to use a condom from a cute, happening, 28 year-old blonde chick, minus the banana!