Taking My Sexy Back

It was as if I fell asleep for the last fifteen years and just woke up in mid-town yesterday.

For no particular reason, while coming home from work, I suddenly noticed that women were no longer sexy; it was just as shocking to me too. And wanting to be sure of my finding, I decided to do a scoring survey, in my mind, with hopes that by the time I walked to the train station, maybe I could find an average score of five-out-of-ten.

There was no such luck.

Still refusing to accept that as the reality, I deliberately missed my train to try out another scoring tactic.

And even though I am heterosexual, I decided to check out some men, but not being gay made it a little difficult for me; I was not sure of what to look for, “Do I look at the way they were dressed or do I look at their faces and physiques?”

I know what a decent looking man should look like, but I was lost in knowing whether he’d appear appealing or desirable to a woman or not.

Having to struggle with that, I decided to switch my views back to women, but this time, the younger ones. And it was there the answer awaited.

In less than 15 minutes of my screening, females whom I guessed were between ages of, say, twenty and thirty-five hit my ratio of sexiness with an impressive eight-out-of-ten. Hairs, faces and make-up were all impeccable, followed up by fashionable attires and accessories, and for the few that passed me nearby, the pleasant odor of their perfumes had to be noted.

It was at that moment when I felt woken up to realize that I was fifty years old, married with children and that the last time I saw sexy was about fifteen years earlier.

After giving it even deeper thoughts, I realized that no one I knew were sexy, not even me. I, too, had fallen into the un-sexy category.

I began wondering, “When did that happened, when did the transition of U and N attached themselves to my SEXY? “

“Yes” I thought “over the last fifteen years I got married, took out a mortgage, three car payments and had two children” “But does this justifies un-sexy?” “No, not at all!”

Seemed like everyone hung it up after age thirty-five. And even though I didn’t get the memo, I was sure acting as if I did.

I immediately began reminiscing on my sexy years, when girls my age made the efforts and greeted sexy back with energy and glee, and I did too. Yes, I remembered when girls were sexy all the way down to their underwear; a matching G-string and bra were my favourite to see.

Sexy dresses, fitted or gown-styled, short or long and stilettos; it was usually stilettos most of the time if not all the time, because no other shoes boast the curves of a woman’s sole like a pair of stilettos, while showing off the indisputable sex appealing assets of a woman’s legs.

Yeah those were the days.

But yesterday, all I saw were flats. Aged women, who most likely complain about muscle aches and have no time for stilettos, poor hair grooming, wore little or no make-up and attired in a way which boldly spelled out ‘CAN’T BE BOTHERED’. And for that reason I did not even allow my mind to wonder if SEXY applied to their underwear, the outer layer said it all.

I turned to me and realized that I had to revamp my attitude, awake my energy or what’s left of it and apply a makeover because I want my sexy back.

56 Years

My friend’s parents are married for 56 years; wow, 56 years! I looked at them questionably, as they smiled at each other with cheers to the celebration of 56 years in wedlock. For a split second, my mind paused the occasion and it was as if the world stopped turning and everyone froze as I question the couple’s smiles and eye contact.

Was it really love that kept them together all these years or was it the children or was it the mortgage? Did they get to a point where they wanted to separate from each other, waited too long and settled for what it is or what it was?

Are they happy, I mean really and truly happy? Is this bliss what I’m looking at?

I want to know because it would clear up a few things for me, personally. See, the longest I’ve ever been in a committed relationship was two years; not by choice, I must add.

Was there a spell cast upon me to have no more than only six months of happiness with a partner?

Wow, six months compared to 56 years is not even a fraction worth acknowledging, but yes, there must be something wrong with me or my expectations may be too high of chosen partners.

The first six months usually float my boat with happiness and offers hope of everlasting love. Did my friend’s parents hold the method of what it takes to extend my six months to 56 years?

I want to know, I got to know, because in my experience of searching for love and bliss, usually, after a few months of dating, all kinds of new personalities emerged, and most were turn-offs more than turn-ons, worst than anything, most conflicted with the preliminary personality and dating days, thus it was all a lie.

Now that I’ve thought about it like that, did I even have six months of love or happiness?

I want to know, I must know, because even when I tried bearing the post six-month phase, in desperation of owning love and happiness, my suffering was to no blissful rewards, only more revelations that my partner wasn’t anything near the initial personal presentation.

We had almost nothing in common, except for the mortgage, the children, the joint accounts, the bills and a few hundred photographs.

If this was what I was looking at, multiplied by 56 years, being cheered with champagne and smiles, then it would mean that they endured so much pain until they became numb to it, and have cried so many times in remorse until they can now only smile at the thought of their endurance.

I don’t know, but I’d like to know what does 56 years of being married feels like.

And as I finished wondering, my mind allowed everything to thaw and the world was once again turning to the reality of a 56 years anniversary party with raised glasses and I too said, “Here,here!”

Men on Pause

When I was approaching my early 20s, it used to puzzle me, to see the sight of older men with younger women and older women with younger men, paired up as a couple, and the question of why was always in my mind.

Within my adolescent circle, the most rumoured reason was said to be of financial security and that the older of the couples usually have a financial advantage becoming Sugar-daddies and Sugar-mommies.

But for the most part, my curiosity grew distant with having a life of my own growing into adulthood, like any other boy, I supposed, with a fair share of one-day and one-night stands, short term and long term girlfriends, frat parties, beach parties, just parties… all before I settled down and got married.

And now that I have been married for the past 25 years, had the children, afforded all the college tuitions, paid off for the three cars, and finally, I mean really finally owned the house which we mortgaged, for what seemed like a lifetime (I mean, the house itself was like having another child to support, who never seemed to grow up or would ever leave home), well, it’s done now, paid for.

For the last five years, my wife and I have sought out many ways to enjoy the rest of our lives, which included traveling to distant lands all over the world; we have seen some exotic places too, ie. Pyramids in Egypt, Safari in Kenya, Grand Canyon in America, Eiffel Tower in Paris, The Berlin Wall, Matterhorn Mountain in Switzerland, we took Caribbean Cruises and even walked on the Great Wall in Beijing.

Yes, my wife and I are determined to keep living it up until we just can’t physically do it anymore.

Still, for me, that’s no time soon; no, even though on the outside, it is obvious that I am aging, I have realized that the youthful lust and energy still exist within my old bones. But I dare not approach my darling wife of 25 years about any form of intimacy; nope, that would be like blasphemy to her.

Ever since she went through the phase of menopause, that door has been closed, they might as well have called it ‘Men on Pause’ because that has been my reality for a number of years now.

And buying a brand new motorcycle did not substitute my real need, neither did overwhelming myself with babysitting the grandchildren; that was just like parenting all over again, so it did not distract my lusting urges for intimacy.

My wife, on the other hand, seems content with her new sewing machine, bingo meetings, coupon cuttings and buying flower seeds online, for the garden.

While on my personal computer, I find myself surfing adult websites. I don’t consider myself a dirty old man, but I guess what I have been doing does fall into the category of a Dirty Old Man, by some at least. I have been looking at the sites and made some virtual friends too, some are as young as 30, and after having some tempting, lustful drooling thoughts, guess what?

Yes, it was then, I remembered that puzzling thought I had as a teenager of why older men date younger women.

That answer came straight to me in my 60s via a thing called the internet.

The answer I learnt is that the younger women are not only more attractive, but their lustfulness are likewise younger, stronger and hungrier with anxiety for growth, and an act of intimacy is also an opportunity, for them, to learn something new by means of gathering experience, while showing off that youthful body of theirs.

The younger women like to exercise their seductive speeches and embellish in the reactions of its powers; this gives them a rush of excitement and heightens their feminity. Expressing and discovering personal powers in the area of affecting another person’s emotion adds to their high on life, especially if they feel as if they can teach an old dog some new tricks.

So technically, it’s a win win situation and there’s an actual equal attraction. As far as the sugar-daddy notion is concerned, in most cases, it is also true; the older of the couple feels obligated to finance the younger, not necessarily in exchange for intimacy, but tend to see the younger as needing aid and security, which the older already possess.

While older women, such as my wife, prides themselves in the ‘been there, done that’ attitude; she has caught her dog ever since he was a pup, he’s well trained and caged on her wedding ring finger, so no need for expressing any personal powers.

Still, my darling dear wife is my heart, the love of my life and I will continually hope that her door will one day reopens, with the sign ‘Men off Pause’ posted.

But until such time, I continue to get my virtual stimulants from the internet and in my real life make more travel plans with my wife to more exotic places….. our next trip is to Brazil, you just never know what powers the Amazon Rainforest holds against the effects of menopause….I could get lucky.