Privacy is such a lonely word.

The basement bathroom. It's far enough removed from the ordinary Saturday afternoon activity, I conclude, and seems like the only place at this moment that offers a safe haven. Locked behind the door, I switch on the fan to use as an audible buffer. The light stays off. My bullet goes on to the third of seven settings. No sooner had the left side of my flushed face settled comfortably into the plush throw rug when my zone was jarringly interrupted by a knock on the door and my 13-year-old daughter's voice.

"Mom? Mom, what are you DOING in there?"

"I am going to the bathroom!! What do you WANT?"

"The UPS guy needs a signature. Are you okay??"

My voice sounds loud and frustrated over the hum of the fan, although the other buzz had stopped. Suddenly.

"Yes! Just sign it!"

Later, when I surfaced, my daughter comments. I can't help hearing suspicion in her voice.
"Um ... going to the bathroom? You sounded like you were in pain."

"Sometimes going to the bathroom can be painful." What else can I say? It was the first thing that came to mind. And most likely, one of the first things she chooses to discuss with her therapist in years to come.

For the same price, I could've gotten the ben wah balls.

I felt like doing something different, so I bought one of those "sexy lingerie" outfits and tried it on before coming to bed the other night.  As soon as I looked at myself in the mirror, the only "mood" I was in was to call a cosmetic surgeon!

Having a, let's call it "petite" body frame, I should have known I was headed for failure when I read the "One Size Fits Most" tag on the bikini top. Completely false advertising. Unless "MOST" is an acronym for Massively Over-Stuffed Tatas, and that's what you've got, the peek-a-boo feature quickly turns into peek-a-boo-hoo. At least for me it did.

I had high hopes for the crotchless undies. It sounds like a very sexy concept. But when I put them on, I immediately thought, what's the sense? I'm not covering an area that I don't want to be covered anyway. Should I now put on a ski mask for the same reason? Stupid. Off they went.

It also came with a blindfold. Ah ha! Something I CAN enjoy! Except this one was the size and shape of a stiffened maxi-pad and covered with slippery polyester, and the flimsy rubber band snapped as I was trying to adjust it to a tighter fit. That tag read "Made In China."

My husband yells in from the bedroom "What are you doing in there?" Wasting time is my initial thought. He always says he'd rather have me completely naked anyway. Smart man.

Note to self ... you never look like the picture of the model on the box. Not even close!

Shhhh! Here's a secret ...
HDBW has a slamming body and looks great in certain lingerie.
Just not this.

My Top Ten ... (yes, I'm stealing the bit from Dave)

Potential responses to my newly-made bar stool buddy's conversational comment ...


 "I give my husband a BJ every day."



Number 10 - "Sweet. Nothing says I Love You quite like a daily blow job."


Number 9 - "As they say, a blow job a day makes the husband not stray."


Number 8 - "Imagine all the jealous body builders out there who spend lots of money on protein supplements!"

Number 7 - "That's one way to avoid carpel tunnel syndrome."

Number 6 - "I hope he doesn't expect birthday presents."

Number 5 -"Wow, you really suck. And I mean that in a good way."

Number 4 - "This gives a whole new meaning to the word "bobble-head".

Number 3 - "So that's why your lips are so well-toned!"

Number 2 - "You mention this to my husband, and I'll kill you."


And the number one response ...


"OK, so now I'm definitely NOT letting you taste my melon martini."

"A hole is a hole is a hole." - He knows

One of my favorite quotes. Coming from a man who never waxes poetic, this is huge. It sprung from a discussion about fidelity. Well, not really a discussion, more along the lines of pillow talk. When you have been married for over 20 years and have two small children, pillow talk and morning coffee chat take the place of discussions for a stretch. But I digress. 


He explained there were two main reasons why he would never cheat on me. One is that he could never live with the guilt, and two was "a hole is a hole is a hole." 


Do these seem contradictory to you? Isn't it either one, or the other? How can it be both? In other words, the guilt is the byproduct of the cheating, so it is not the physical act that deters you, but the consequences of it. That I get, since in my world to be so attracted to another that I would have sex with him would involve attraction on many levels, not just physical. Caving to my desire would mean to me that I have a serious problem with strength of my marriage commitment and would leave me tormented with guilt. My husband (and I) both realize that it would end the marriage, end of story. 

On the other hand, he implies that one snatch is the same as the next pussy is the same as the neighbor's so why bother? I don't agree that you cannot make any distinction between ... pussies. Does pussy have a plural form? I don't feel like researching that, in fear of an onslaught of viagra spam that would undoubtedly follow. How can one hole be just like the other and the next? The hole is part of a whole. Maybe it is a guy thing. Do some men see random sex as strictly a physical connection of body parts moving in such a way to the anticipated finish? I guess that may explain the weathered joke of how alcohol makes women better looking as the night progresses. And not to exclude women in this, do some women just want a dick for the night? There are sex toys for that, and inflatable dolls for the men, not to mention livestock if you live in certain areas.


So back to the "hole is a hole" thing. Does he means that because random sex is just drilling another hole, why bother since it would produce intolerable guilt which would end an excellent marriage?


I am still a bit confused by all of this. But I think I may have just figured it out. And to verify, I will bring it up again during tonight's pillow talk. That is, once I am through being, as a whole, distinctive.

Sperm. Easier to swallow on a sandwich.

Invited friends over for an impromptu gathering the other night. We spent the night sitting around the kitchen table eating and drinking, the men talking with the men and women talking with the women. While enjoying a nice salad, my female friend, who is Israeli, commented on how she and her family eat a lot of salad, but in the Israeli style, without the leafy greens. So we chat more about all things salad.

Me: "Ever put alfalfa sprouts in your salad?"
Her: "No, but I love them on sandwiches. Funny story. My 11 year old once saw me eating sprouts in my sandwich and informed me that they looked like sperm!"

Well, we had a laugh over that one, then took the conversation in a completely different direction.

Me: "Mmmm, sperm on a sandwich. I wonder if that would make it easier to swallow."
Her: (cracking up) "I doubt it!"

At this point the husbands are now getting a drift of our conversation. I think hearing the word "sperm" coming from the other side of the table put the brakes on their discussion.

Him1: "What are you saying? Sperm?"

Her: "Yes, we are saying that no matter how you disguise it, sperm is hard to swallow. Wouldn't you agree?"

We, on the female side of the table, are still smiling and find this amusing. The men do not. Awkward silence. A short clearing of the throat is all that one has to offer. A jerky body movement signaling discomfort from the other.

It was then that I  realized how wives speaking about oral sex in mixed company could be so disabling to their husbands. To be honest, I find candid talk about the intensity and frequency of spousal flatulence more horrendous and embarrassing.

The topic quickly changed, as you may have probably guessed, and the night resumed with all its predictability.  But it got me wondering why it is so difficult to just be loose, verbally, about sex with other couples and just have fun with it. I am finding that throughout my life, no matter how mature I have become, how worldly or educated, I have yet to discover any significant people in my life who I can speak freely with about sex.

There is always the boundary factor. Which is not to say boundaries are not important. I would find it a form of betrayal to reveal the intimate details of my marital sex life. I also find it repulsive that some men, and women, have no problem mouthing off in a locker room way specifics on what their mate does or does not do, or how well or badly they do it.  Then you have the impression factor. Women who initiate sexual discussions are tagged horny, and likely promiscuous. Even between girlfriends, I am often skittish about sex chat since it evokes sudden awkwardness and shut down. I am not prying. I am not turning lesbo. I am simply tired of talking about kids and husbands and work and am dying to know if you own a dildo. And any other details about it you'd like to share.

Am I being too nosy or insensitive to another's privacy? Maybe. Turn me off like an annoying reality show by telling me to mind my own business, I won't take offense. I just wish that honest, funny sex chat between friends of both sexes didn't have to be so rare. Or so hard to swallow.