According to this Huffington Post article (http://tinyurl.com/lzmpvps), women over fifty are still vital sexual human beings.
No shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I write erotic romance with characters over fifty? Because they can be so damn sexy!
We've all heard about cougars, right? Those women who either go after younger men or who are pursued by younger men? They're whispered about. They're talked about.
What if they're not cougars? What if they're simply looking for a man in their own age range to help them enjoy their lives, more specifically, their sex lives? Is that even possible?
Seems the answer to that is a resounding yes, if they're willing to search high and low like a lousy sherpa on Mt. Everest. But here's a cold, hard fact: Most men, even older men, want young women. They're not interested in anyone their own age. Oh, sure, some are, or at least they're faithful to the women they have, even if those women are over fifty. But most of them want a younger woman, and it even appears that they don't care if the woman is attractive, just that she's younger. I'm not sure why, unless it's status. That's all I've ever figured out.
Most of them are, or have been, married. One of the things they complain about is their wives' lack of interest in sex. Most of these women will tell you that they would be interested in sex - if the man in their life was interesting during sex. Why would you want to be with a man whose only interest is in pleasing himself, and to hell with you? Kind of explains everything, doesn't it?
If they took the time to be interesting in the sack, to actually give instead of take, they'd make a huge discovery: Older women like sex. They're good at it too. They're experienced and aren't as self-conscious as their younger counterparts. But instead of taking advantage of that, older men leave them with the idea that they're less than desirable, aren't worth the trouble, or just can't cut it, all because they want younger women to sleep with.
I have a theory. I believe that younger woman are largely inexperienced, and older men can get by with being sloppy, greedy, self-centered, selfish lovers with them because, frankly, the cute little things don't know any better.
They also talk a great deal about how women over fifty "let themselves go." Often they're talking about their wives in that respect. Many times, these women have been left to wrangle pretty much every household aspect, especially kids, without any help. They haven't let themselves go - they haven't had TIME to take care of themselves! They've been running on empty for years. I can speak to this. I'd let myself go while I raised two kids, mostly by myself, and then I'd taken care of three of the four parents within my union until they died. Let myself go? I was lucky if I could get a shower every day, much less do anything constructive for myself. After the three of them were gone, I remade myself.
And a lot of women who've "let themselves go" will tell you that's it's been a long, long, very long time since the man in their life has actually complimented them in any way. What incentive does a woman have to keep herself attractive if the one person in the world who's supposed to be attracted to her doesn't seem to give a shit?
These men also often complain that sex with their significant other is "boring." And whose responsibility is it to spice things up? Well, at least fifty percent of that responsibility is theirs and theirs alone and, if they like to be "The Man" in the relationship, then they've automatically assumed more than fifty percent. Sounds to me like they need to get on the ball. But instead, they go looking for a younger woman because SHE'S not boring to THEM. I'm betting THEY'RE boring to HER, but if she told them they were boring, they wouldn't believe it anyway. They'd just go looking for another younger woman. The acquisition and use is what makes the younger women interesting. The older guy isn't in this for conversation.
I'm well into a new book I'm writing called The Call Girl's Guide to Great Sex. I won't tell you what happens in the book, but suffice it to say that the call girl reveals the secrets of the sexual universe to someone who needs to know. And you know what they say. The truth will set you free. So let me just say this to the older men out there.
We're hot and ready, so if we don't want sex, it's because we don't want sex with YOU. Some of us have taken pretty good care of ourselves. We actually spend time trying to find clothing that accentuates our natural endowments, not trying to wear something that shows most of our skin to set off the arousal alarms in every guy up to three counties away. No, our bodies aren't as firm and luscious as they used to be, but by damn, they work well and we know what to do with them. You might want to try complimenting us occasionally. You'd be surprised what the results could be. And as for boring, listening to you snore on the sofa with the Monday night game playing in the background makes us want to rip our clothes off (and I've got a great piece of resort property in North Dakota you'd just love too). What makes you think you're so damn interesting?
I've heard that affairs in the over-fifty crowd are at an all-time high, and I think I can see why. So let me tell you about my relationship.
Three years ago I was a wreck. I'd buried three family members in eighteen months. I was grossly overweight, hideously depressed, and tired all the time. And I was in a relationship I'd decided I'd give two more years to before I bailed. It wasn't bad; he wasn't bad. It was just that apathy had eaten us alive, and we didn't even realize it. So what happened?
I decided I had to get better or die. I started eating like I had a brain and got up off my ass. I started dropping the pounds and shaping up. I got to stop taking my blood pressure medication and antidepressant. In short, I was working hard at it, and it showed.
At some point in that process, Sir said, "Wow. You're serious this time."
"Yes," I replied, serious as hell. "I've got to get my shit together. I'm going to be a young widow." He gave me a very funny, possibly scared, stare. "You're going to drop dead, the shape you're in. I've got to be ready."
He bought a gym membership too. Aha! That shook him up.
And gradually, we both came back to life. It wasn't a sudden thing, more subtle, but it worked. And let me tell you what worked.
He grew up. He stopped acting like I owed him something. He started telling me how beautiful I am, holding my hand, hugging me without expecting sex in return. He started acting like I mattered to him. He told me repeatedly how much he appreciated everything I'd done for everyone in the family. He helped out more around the house. He understood that I need peace and quiet while I'm working, not him sitting there yakking about some sports figure or what he read in National Geographic.
In return, I started going to Victoria's Secret. I bought boots, pretty, expensive boots. I let my hair grow out. I started having my nails done and having pedicures too. I helped him learn how to cook and eat healthier. I started watching football and basketball and found out I still don't understand them that well but I love them (especially collegiate ball - GO RACERS!). I quit taking verbal pot-shots at him. I started telling him how much I appreciated everything he did, does, for me.
And a funny thing happened. When all of that was in play and established, know what we did?
We set the bedroom on fire.
If your man is older and decides he wants a younger woman, cut him loose. There will come a time when he's old enough that no younger woman is going to want him. By then, you will have found a new relationship with someone who appreciates you and he'll be alone.
Serves him right.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
My Reads: My Body - His by Blakely Bennett
I read a lot of erotic romance and erotica because that's what I write, but I'm always looking for a twist on the genre. I don't know why, but I'd never read Blakely Bennett's trilogy, and I even had the first one. I was expecting your standard, run-of-the-mill erotic romance with BDSM thrown in.
Wrong. I was wrong. I was never so wrong in my life.
My Body - His was unlike anything else that I've read. I owe you an explanation, and the queen of "no spoiler land" is going to have a hard time with this, but here goes.
First off, let me just give you this disclaimer: There are lots of erotic romances out there that carry the admonishment of "for readers 18 or over only." Mine are some of those. But these? I can't imagine what would happen if a 15-year-old got hold of one of these. Not good - not at all. They'd be permanently sexually warped. Take that from someone who read The Happy Hooker and Deep Throat at the tender age of 14. No wonder I'm the kinky bitch I am.
What happens when a curious thirty-something woman goes to a party with a friend and finds out it's a free-for-all in terms of an orgy? Plenty. She wanders, dumbstruck, until she happens across "the artist." Jane is terrified by him - and intensely aroused. He gives her an immediate taste of what he expects, and that would be a warning for most people. But Jane is so turned on by Luke's control and sexual prowess that she lets herself fall into his trap. Thus begins their relationship, and what a convoluted, fucked-up mess it is. Instead of heeding warning signs that anyone else would've seen as big, bright, and flashing, Jane is mesmerized by Luke and believes she cannot live without him. He professes his love in similar fashion, but frankly, his actions don't match his words. Any more than that and you'll know more than you should but, trust me, you want to know.
I really didn't know what to expect, and this certainly wasn't it. While stories of BDSM relationships run rampant, and most of them are the loving, sweet, vanilla-scented things we love to read about, this one is anything but. It's raw, powerful, gritty, and a little frightening. It's a perfect example of what happens when someone who's lacking something important in their life meets up with a person who wants something they can't get without manipulating others, and someone winds up getting hurt. This book doesn't have a happily ever after; that comes in the third book, so keep reading. But it will twist your gut and heart until you don't think you can stand another minute, and suck you in so hard you won't be able to force yourself away. I started the first book, and I'll tell you a little secret: It was on Friday, and by Sunday afternoon, I'd bought the other two and devoured them.
Blakely is a talented writer, and her style is easy to read and comfortable, but the subject matter most definitely is not. If you've ever wanted to see the dark, scary, dangerous side of BDSM, take a trip into My Body - His. But be prepared. You'll never see the lifestyle the same way again.
I don't do reviews, and this isn't a review, but if it were, it would get 5+ stars.
Wrong. I was wrong. I was never so wrong in my life.
My Body - His was unlike anything else that I've read. I owe you an explanation, and the queen of "no spoiler land" is going to have a hard time with this, but here goes.
First off, let me just give you this disclaimer: There are lots of erotic romances out there that carry the admonishment of "for readers 18 or over only." Mine are some of those. But these? I can't imagine what would happen if a 15-year-old got hold of one of these. Not good - not at all. They'd be permanently sexually warped. Take that from someone who read The Happy Hooker and Deep Throat at the tender age of 14. No wonder I'm the kinky bitch I am.
What happens when a curious thirty-something woman goes to a party with a friend and finds out it's a free-for-all in terms of an orgy? Plenty. She wanders, dumbstruck, until she happens across "the artist." Jane is terrified by him - and intensely aroused. He gives her an immediate taste of what he expects, and that would be a warning for most people. But Jane is so turned on by Luke's control and sexual prowess that she lets herself fall into his trap. Thus begins their relationship, and what a convoluted, fucked-up mess it is. Instead of heeding warning signs that anyone else would've seen as big, bright, and flashing, Jane is mesmerized by Luke and believes she cannot live without him. He professes his love in similar fashion, but frankly, his actions don't match his words. Any more than that and you'll know more than you should but, trust me, you want to know.
I really didn't know what to expect, and this certainly wasn't it. While stories of BDSM relationships run rampant, and most of them are the loving, sweet, vanilla-scented things we love to read about, this one is anything but. It's raw, powerful, gritty, and a little frightening. It's a perfect example of what happens when someone who's lacking something important in their life meets up with a person who wants something they can't get without manipulating others, and someone winds up getting hurt. This book doesn't have a happily ever after; that comes in the third book, so keep reading. But it will twist your gut and heart until you don't think you can stand another minute, and suck you in so hard you won't be able to force yourself away. I started the first book, and I'll tell you a little secret: It was on Friday, and by Sunday afternoon, I'd bought the other two and devoured them.
Blakely is a talented writer, and her style is easy to read and comfortable, but the subject matter most definitely is not. If you've ever wanted to see the dark, scary, dangerous side of BDSM, take a trip into My Body - His. But be prepared. You'll never see the lifestyle the same way again.
I don't do reviews, and this isn't a review, but if it were, it would get 5+ stars.
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