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I've always let it happen, drunk on the thrills that new relationships, particularly ones filled with turmoil and yearning, bring.Being alone isn't easy for me, and being celibate is even less so.We spent the rest of the night moving from honky tonk to honky tonk, songs of busted love or rowdy love or love slow and steady trailing behind us, like smoke, as we sauntered down the neon-lit street, laughing and clutching hands. Running my hands over CC's strong chest, pinning my mouth, tender from his kisses, to his hard abdomen, I felt something unmooring inside me.When the bars closed, as even on Nashville's Lower Broadway they must, I brought CC back to my hotel room. We used our fingers and mouths to pleasure each other. When we'd finished, CC curled himself to me like we were two cats in a patch of sunlight. I'd been celibate for six months before CC and I came together. I'm 50 years old, and I've spent nearly my entire adulthood in relationships, a series of them, mostly one right after another.We (Americans, I mean) are just now beginning to admit, to understand, that exuberant sexuality is not exclusively the prerogative of men, or females in their 20s. Because for eons and eons we were told sex — desire, in particular, pleasure — was wrong.In fact, I'll wager we older women are often far better lovers than the younger versions of ourselves we see flitting, without a care it seems, through boutiques and markets, magnificently vital and as yet untouched by life's casual brutalities. After all, we've made it through divorces and parents dying and careers tanking and all sort of horrors. When CC, who was just a year older than me, said, "Older women are I simply smiled. Old habits die hard, even with repeated viewings of.) So does seeing the new French president's wife, Brigitte Macron, sexy and vibrant and 24 years older than her spouse.
The gorgeous, half-Sicilian high-fashion photographer in Milan. And dear Thomas, a brawling, Black Irish madman who rescued orphaned kittens and old men who had fallen into rivers. I know I'm not the only one, the only 50-, or, 40- or 60-year old woman feeling this way: in a state of perpetual half-arousal.I've always been sexually driven, but when I entered my mid-40s I found myself experiencing greater pleasure than ever before. is the best word to describe this newly impatient urge.I know what I want: a reflection, I think, of finally beginning to discover who I truly am." fascinated currently-single-and-forever-childless me. What really snagged my attention was the idea that the stage in a woman's life that comes later, in middle-age, has the potential to be so juiced with creativity and power, and sexuality, too, that "a culture that disempowers women has to disavow it. We have to make that power dark."CC never seemed disturbed or concerned or irritated by any feminine power I exhibited that weekend in Nashville. A brawler, he had practiced Buddhism for years as a way to control his temper and still meditated every day.This is why middle-aged or old women are witches and crones in fairy tales. He was estranged from his family, had never married, and was largely self-educated in the service of "freeing his mind." I was the first woman he'd been with in more than a year.
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a man."-sized indiscretions (one stolen kiss was the sum result) but how rousing it is for a book to seriously scrutinize the sexuality of older women.