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I am 48 years old. Yes, I'm an old Slut with a capitol "S" and I do not apologize. I started having sex, way back in 1971. I think this gives me a good idea, what the whole scenario is all about. It also has taught me a lot about how men/women operate, right? This post applies to all sexual preferences and it knows no boundaries. I do think monogamy is a wonderful thing and in this day and age, safe sex is the only way to go. That means, don't think that, that guy, who's just so cute, with that nice ass,, may not be infected or that chick doesn't have a disease, right. Don't be another statistic, wear a condom, if you've not got a history with this person, ok? Every single person, including myself, never thought it would happen to them. But this post is about having a good time. Nothing says lovin', like a chubby in the oven!
(Right click, save and print) (Do It!)
One thing I have learned, is you have to spice things up, sometimes, you know, to keep your man/woman from shopping at another store. Well, that and threatening their life, that they'll never live to remember their indiscretion or live to tell about it, if caught.
The other thing I learned, is, getting old, is a matter of compiling memories, good or bad. Hopefully, you have more good than bad. My wish would be that I live, at least a few more years, too and build and retain more memories. My demise would be to get Alzheimer's and not remember a damn thing. Then again, those with Alzheimer's often digress, back to their teens or when they were younger. Now that would be some cool shit, huh? But the big question is gonna be;
Have I lived?
I'd like to think I have had a long life, full of memories, enough for a book, anyway. But it comes down to building some really good memories.
I Double Dog Dare You!
I dare you to walk on the edge. I dare you to do something, you'd never dream of doing and I'm not talking about Bungee Jumping! Think out of the box. Think out of the norm or status quo.
Sometimes, it's even the smallest approach that will get him/her thinking. Do something that you've never done. Have sex somewhere unusual and be daring. Stop that missionary shit for one night. Get on that pony and ride. Be a trick rider. Ride backwards, holding onto his toes, then he can watch the whole thing. Most men, want Betty Crocker in the kitchen and a trained Prostitute in bed. Give it to him, I guarantee, he will not forget it.
Go out with a skirt and no panties. Your husband will be driven nuts, the sexual tension will be so thick, you can cut it with a knife.
Strip for him or surprise him when he comes home from work, dressed in a teddy or whatever. I've never heard of a man who complained that his wife wanted sex, when he came home from work. I've never heard a man say his wife was too demanding, always wanting sex.
Make a list of places, you want to have sex and try to mark off that list. I can't remember my exact list and I know I have not done them all, as one of them was to screw in a Castle in Ireland. Some were improv, such as having sex on the 33rd floor of the Washington Monument in D.C. or when I went into the walk-in freezer with that good-looking Latin Lover/Dishwasher at a restaurant I worked at. Good grief, he rocked my world but then he started stalking me, ranting about love. Who knew?
But I think the cleverest thing I ever did, was to give my husband, a book of coupons for Christmas. I had no money, as a young bride, staying home with my son. So, I cut and colored a whole book of pull outs for "A Blow Job on Demand." I honored ever coupon, no matter how daring it was, or how afraid I was of getting caught. He got that "Coupon Book" and a box of chocolate covered cherries, his favorite. Years later, before he died, he had told me, through all the years, that was the only gift he loved the most, the one most memorable. After the first coupon book, I'd ask him what he wanted for Christmas and he'd always answer, "you know what I want" and I gave him another coupon book. He then gave, recounted, exactly where he used every coupon and the whole scenario, as if it had happened just yesterday. He remembered, whipping out a coupon, he kept in his wallet. We were at the brand new movie, "Star Wars," in the balcony, all by ourselves. He remembered the time, he almost wrecked the car, as he had handed me a coupon, driving down the rode. We were riding down a back rode and as he neared a curve, my head got stuck in the steering wheel. "What a way to die," he exclaimed, a huge shit eatin' grin on his face. He remembered handing me a coupon, at a Jack in the Box, fast food restaurant and us going into the men's room, right then and right there, me on my knees. Or the time, we were driving from Virginia to New York, on the Interstate. I'd not known it at the time but he'd handed me a coupon and I was doing the dirty deed. All the while a Trucker was watching us and gave my husband a "Thumbs Up" and mouthed the words, "Lucky Bastard." He could recall, every single coupon and had the biggest smile and isn't that what love is, making your significant smile? Better yet, isn't it about the good memories? When you're old and gray, a memory might even start a fire. Those slow burning embers just might be rekindled, huh?
Be crazy, be slutty, be daring, be dirty cause they'll remember it longer than they'll remember you in your bathrobe, hair all screwed up. They'll recall the good times more than the bad, if...
"You Blow Their Mind!"
The Soap Opera that unfolds in front of me, the story of my life is;
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