Toward the end of our ninety-minute lunch, my first The Sex Babes’ client—an investment banker in his mid-thirties—took my hand, looked soulfully into my eyes and said “I really want a woman who will be okay with it if I put on a pair of pink silk panties. A thong.”
Wasn’t there a “Friends” episode where Chandler got stuck in a stall in a men’s room wearing only a pink thong because Julia Roberts took his clothes away?
“Will you write about this on your blog?” He asked
Do you want me to do that?
What this man really wants is an expensive—and, I do mean expensive—private session with an older woman sexpert who will listen to his sexual concerns, real or faked, and, as a bonus, give him a little guest-starring role in the blogosphere as anonymous Rich Man with Kinky Desires. Because the “confession” occurred so late in the session, he said, “I will need another talk with you. Same time, next week?”
Yes, of course, why not? Let’s call him “David” because that is not his name. I rather like the Michelangelo connotation.
David was circumspect on the phone in setting up the lunch appointment.
“I just want to talk about my sexuality,” he said, “without having to tell lies because I’m trying to get laid. Maybe you can comment on my sexual desires—tell me if they are normal or not, that sort of thing.”
“I love your legs,” he said, after we ordered his dirty martini, my white wine. “You are a very sexy lady—and smart.”
“Thank you for the compliment. If you were on a date with a new woman—“
“I don’t date,” he said.
“If you were picking her up in a bar, would you say, ‘I love your legs’?”
No. He would get next to the hottest unattached woman under thirty, buy her several drinks, let her know by the way he looked at her that he was interested—and after he was sure that she’d attached prices to his suit, shirt, tie and shoes, put his hand on her thigh. If she didn’t take his hand away, he would move it higher up, reaching under her skirt. With some women, he will touch her breast too, with others not—because breast-touching in public is a big, obvious move. Somewhere along the way to the hotel room, he would “share” that he wasn’t in a relationship but wants to be or is looking for love or wants marriage and children—none of which is true to the best of his knowledge.
“I try to get anal,” he says, “but I don’t force it. I’m a gentleman. I’ll settle for the blow job.”
Sexual events with women whose names he doesn’t learn—and the occasional call girl—is his sex life. Is it “normal?” For a certain kind of man at this point in time—yes, fairly “normal.” Partly, they don’t date because they either lack social skills or the will to apply them with women they want to shag. Mostly, they treat the call girls better than they do their drunken pick-ups because they respect professionals.
But David wants to leave Normal, whether he knows it or not, and he’s hoping I can give him directions out. Maybe I can do that by modeling for him the kind of behavior that would lead to a date with a woman he respects—and then another. I can also tell him a lot about female sexuality that I am sure he hasn’t bothered to learn.
“Little lacy boy shorts are in now, thongs are out,” I said as he opened the cab door for me and kissed my hand.
Is there a lesson for readers here—and maybe a hint as to why so many men are more comfortable around older women now? Yes.
My first sex book, a survey of 1,000 men, was re-titled What Men Really Want in mass market—and it was very successful, earning royalties for over a decade. (I should update that book!) The secret to knowing what men want from women—and vice versa—is simple: Listen intently, one on one, ask gentle questions (and, Babes, don’t run the conversation past a girlfriend panel) and don’t judge. Most women and men don’t do any of that—but one’s ability to hear someone else does improve with age..
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