Sex and the (Slightly) Older Woman,: Like a Teenager Again

The Slightly Older Single Woman claims to be carefree – no commitment required for this suave swinger.  Just sign in

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 for the occasional servicing.  Ha, what a wide range of surprises I have for myself.  
 
But I’m fifty, single and in possession of my faculties.  I can do anything I chose.  So I sleep with a guy without presenting a lot of complications, because that is what I want to do, and I suddenly become persona non grata after his Highness delivers what he deems to be a stellar performance and adequate thanks.
 
I don’t understand. If two people obviously want to do it, and it’s mutually super enjoyable, and I like it enough to want to do it again, can’t I reasonably assume he’d like to do it again too?  As far as I understand it men like to do it no matter what.  I assure you I am bringing my A game to the table, and I am pretty confident in my presentation.
 
So is a weekly booty call really too much to ask?  (Or not ask!  Somehow, despite my advanced age, role as breadwinner and head of household, professional and personal experience, I am not supposed to be the asker.  I am expected – no, instructed – to sit on my hands and make him think I don’t care.  WTF?  How is that supposed to help?)   Maybe his is a physical limitation – only one event per month?

No wonder patients are warned to see their doctors if they “experience an erection lasting longer than four hours.”  If he only gets to perform once a month, who is their right mind would forfeit a four hour tour?
 
I am like a teenager again! Even if visitations are infrequent, or irregular,  enthusiasm and good cheer count for A LOT.  And, I admit with head hung low, I really like the cuddling part.
 
Which brings me to the creepiest discovery of all.  I am not the sophisticated single I imagined I would be in my third twenty-five years.  I thought I had no interest in a “relationship.”  But like the archetypical domesticated female, I am obsessed with constancy.  

I find I kind of want a boyfriend. Yikes.  Now what?