bellybutton lint

what sex is not, cont

i've read and been told that a woman reaches her sexual peak at thirty and that perimenopause starts in about five years later. sometimes i think of my younger years and the sweet memories of youthfully indulgent sex and it fills me with such awe that i feel the urge to become youthfully indulgent with my lover. i like feeling youthfully indulgent. and youthfully indulged.

when i was a youth, my first lover, outside of my five-year spiral into the twistedness of incest, was a boy a year older than me. he'd been dating my next door neighbor, and then i moved in. not sure how long they lasted, but i remember that a boy much older than us both moved in across the street and instantly became the big brother i should've had. he indulged my every whim, as often as he could. he watched out for me, played bored games with me, and always had time for me whenever he could. i remember wishing he could've been my big brother instead of the twisted little fuck i got. but he warned my would-be first lover off for about a year, until big brother moved away. a year later, i would enjoy a different kind of indulgence. i was fourteen, and we almost got caught by my daddy coming up the walkway that sunny afternoon. in the space of about two minutes, loverboy was up, dressed, out the back door, through the back yard, and over the back fence. gee-oh-en-ee gone. it was around that time, too, that my dad forbid me to see him, and his grandparents had forbidden him me, also. he started showing up some mornings, waiting for me across the street from my house before school. he was not a stupid boy. i started visiting him in his bedroom, on other mornings, much to the consternation of his grandparents. by the end of the year, he'd been sent to michigan to live with his parents. i somehow turned back up at my mother's front door.

it was very good that i had my first time the way i did. the incest had finally stopped about two and a half years earlier. i didn't think about it much but it played out later and when it did, that one lovesex moment would remind me what sex could be like, if only it wasn't what it was. i had a lot of sex during my teens and twenties. it was my weapon of choice. i could get most anything i wanted from most anyone i wanted it from with just the promise or denial of sexual favor. a blow job here, a twenty minute fuck there, and the world was my playground. i was date raped twice, and the second cut was the deepest. leaving college after that second time was the most therapeutic thing i did for myself. i still used sex as a weapon, though, but i found it worked better in monogamous relationships. serial monogamy was the natural next step in my sexio-social evolution.


love and marriage

i guess some part of me always wanted to be married. i never was real specific on whom and i had no idea of what a healthy marriage looked like. to me, marriage was an institution like all other institutions: fun to imagine, but hell to get out of. such was the ten-year stint my parents did, then another decade-long stretch between both my mother and stepfather and my father and stepmother. my lessons in the manipulatory arts had begun in earnest around the age of ten; once consensual sex was involved, the end of whatever delusion of innocence anyone had for me was gone like a summer breeze at the threshhold of a blizzard. it was with this mighty combination of power and prowess that i began my journey into adult relationships.