I just turned 50 and wanted to discuss sex. Why? For whatever reason, people don’t think or hate to think of so-called “old women,” having sex! I tried to dispel some of the rumors…see if you agree…or if you see yourself in my story.
I still got that WAP…”but it ain’t no whore in this house.”
No bootie calls for me.
I don’t have situantionships.
I have lovers…one man at a time.
A man who loves me…a man who cares about my well-being…a man who brings me flowers.
A man who sends for me…to meet in some far-away place.
I’m not a one night stand girl–never have been.
I am very picky.
I have fewer partners…but much better sex.
Dammit, less REALLY is more!
I find direct eye contact mesmerizing.
I practice the ancient art of feminine wiling.
I’m comfortable talking about sex (clearly).
I know how to make love to a man.
My head game is strong…
I know that I must get in a man’s head way before I get in his bed.
I know that making love is a 24hr endeavor.
I know that making love involves the love he gets from me via: texts, phone calls, my respect for him and making him feel desired long before the sun begins to set…or when it begins to rise…or a delightful sunny afternoon.
Sex at 50 is more about a connection.
And sometimes my Wi-Fi doesn’t always connect.
Meaning, I don’t always have an orgasm…and that’s ok.
I can have great sex with a man and orgasm will escape me.
But I know how to capture it later…alone.
At the same time, I don’t criticize or judge if a lil blue pill is needed.
And when things go awry (and they will), laughter is not embarrassing–but erotic.
Sex used to be an event.
Now it’s an experience.
Experiences are quite memorable…they linger.
Events are by nature, short-lived…they fade.
I still feel like a curious 18 year-old, average American girl…above average that is.
That‘s what 50 brings…a whole lotta self congratulations minus the cheap bragging.
I realize that my time to feel sexy and sassy will be fleeting…by society’s standards.
Today 50 really is the new 30.
Much thanks to women like Jennifer Lopez and Halle Berry.
I’m hoping to say this at 70…that 70 is the new 50.
Maybe at 70 I will actually feel 50.
I don’t think I will ever stop enjoying the feel of a man…
A good tender kiss.
My hand being gripped by his, while he stares into my eyes.
I know to some who are younger, to think of 50 year olds having sex is a repugnant thought.
I used to feel the same way.
Brad Pitt is 56, Idris Elba is 48 & George Clooney is 59–still sounds yucky?
I have more life behind me, most likely, than what I have ahead of me.
I’m not on any dating sites like “Our Time.”
I’m on my time.
In the words of another cinematic “Pretty Woman”: “I say who, I say how, I say when.”
Sex and the Single girl at 50 is something I never thought I would utter
Or that would ever apply to me.
Sex yes, being single-no.
And that’s another thing about turning 50…I have hella patience.
I’m not rushing anything: the universe, connections, foreplay, traffic jams or a husband.
Did I mention foreplay? It’s refreshing & hot pretending to be like teenagers, trying to refrain from “going all the way.”
I will wait.
I will delight in this moment…and the next.
I will have sex.
I will enjoy all the pleasures of life…C’est mon plaisir.
*This article first appeared inside the October issue of Ms. Heel Magazine.*