Every time I discover a new American reality show about age-defying bachelors and bachelorettes vs. matchmaking love, I want to vomit.
Reality screen shows like ABC’s The Bachelor and now NBC’s Ready For Love illustrate society’s propensity towards young love rather than romance after 50. Executive Producer Eva Longoria and her Ready For Love crew should realize that people of all ages - not only those who fit the 20-45 demographic – are also searching for their ultimate soul mate.
Hollywood isn’t getting it. Sorry Eva.
Ratings would hit the roof and roll off the charts if producers and script writers focused on reality matchmaking for audiences building new love in the second half of life. It’s the late-in-life love and relationships sector that is burgeoning. Viagra is replacing Geritol. That’s a fact!
Let the truth be told – here are some statistics:
•The 50+ segment is the fastest growing group of subscribers for
on-line dating (Lehman Brothers Equity Research, February
•In their quest for love and companionship, computer users aged
55+, accounted for 16.7% of all traffic to on-line personal sites (Internet
research firm, Nielsen/Net Ratings,
•Women and men 50+ are using on-line dating and relationship
websites because the stigma of an on-line personal ad is fading, and their
adult children are leading them to on-line dating (AARP, December
•Baby Boomers represent 27.5% of the population; over 24 million
Boomers are 50+; and by the year 2030, the Baby Boomers will be ages 66-84 and
make up 20% of the total population (MetLife's Mature Market Institute,
Later in life is now referred to as the "Third Age," a term coined by author Margaret Drabble in The Seven Sisters - a book about a woman who redefines herself post-divorce. So what does this all mean for the mid-life Prince and Princess of love?
Prince Charming may be on foot with a Birkenstock rather than a glass slipper. The princess may need a pack of Depends and a shot of estrogen. But love and commitment later in life has a depth and meaning far beyond career and family. Finding love again in “Third Age” provides an authentic and genuine opportunity to love and be loved for who you are. Now that’s magical!
Listen up Hollywood. Finding love and nurturing a relationship in your ‘golden’ years may bring physical or mental challenges. But what you lose in illusion, you gain in the richness of authenticity.
You have loved and lost. Your heart has mended. You have learned from your mistakes and have gained emotional strength. You know what you want and what you don’t want. You’re not afraid to play by your own rules and to share your authentic richness with someone worthy of your whole love.
You have learned to love more deeply and passionately and with conviction. This makes you even more sensual, sexy and attractive to another seeking the same. Back to Reality TV - so does fit and trim eye and arm candy sell better than wrinkles and wisdom?
Tinsel Town is in denial.
To life and living it,
It’s standard procedure to check my texts and messages
first thing when I roll out of bed.
So there it was. A provocative text mistakenly sent to Ineda by a hormone-enraged
teenager with an insatiable appetite for social sex. And unmistakably sharing his secret discovery to his BFF to join in on the action.
Here’s the text:
“Doyle – here’s the wild hook up website I mentioned to you in school. EasyCasuals.com. I scored 5 babes last week. Much simpler than nightclubs.”
Prudish? Me? Not a carnal chance! So I decided to check out the ‘easy-cum-easy-blow’ website for enlightenment.
I didn't have the heart to text back Doyle to tell him he had the wrong dude. Obviously, there’s a whole new world out there for no strings fun and flirting fornication. So I logged onto EasyCasuals.com and was immediately connected to SocialSex.com.
The vivacious brunette on the screen dressed in nothing less than
a matching midnight black bra and thong set seductively whispers, “Who are you interested in meeting? “ And don’t forget as the ad displays, “choose as many as you
I always believed in life that there are no guarantees but death and taxes. But I suppose I was wrong. SocialSex.com claims - “Satisfaction Guarantee and Hook Up Guarantee” – now that’s some iron-clad fuckin’ policy!
Endorsed by Howard Stern, Playboy TV and TMZ, I was shocked to discover that the Online Dating Council rated SocialSex.com as the No#1 Adult Social Network in 2011. What ever happened to Ashley Madison.com? Ooopppsss– forgot. That’s for married flings. But to maximize your male/female pipeline, I’ve been told you can expect great results if you hook up to a few casual sex sites. Heck – two cocks are better than one, right?
Did you know that SocialSex.com claims millions of members worldwide? Uninhibited social sex is a global addiction; so I’m sure there’s plenty of truth to their claim. On this erotic site, you can pick your sexual pleasure from men, women, homosexual couples, gay couples and even lesbian couples.
Heck – we all want to get in between the proverbial satin sheets
with someone, right? So there shouldn’t be any room for bigotry in this world of
sexual orientation and social sex naughtiness.
And why stop there? The one-trick pony website provides you with your pick of favourite positions like 69, BDSM, Blow Job, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Reverse CG and the list lasts all night long!
And then it gets personal - real personal - “How often do you have sex?” Oh my! Potential subscribers have the option of choosing: Never –that’s why I’m here, once a year, once a month, once a week and then more than once a day!
Thighs quivering, I clicked next and then was asked if I've ever had a one-night
stand. So I wondered - What about a one-night missionary position or one-night
doggy style? Your answer can range from, “Yes And I Loved It – Let’s Do It Again” to “No – I’m Not That Kind of Person” – which begs the question –then why
the f—k are you here???
As the site does its magic to help choose the 24-hour sex hook up just right for you, the web site asks, “Which places would you like to have sex?”
No shame or moral compass here either. Choices include: at the office, in the kitchen, on the beach, in an elevator, at the movie theatre – even in church!
OMG – Father forgive me and 40 Hail Mary’s!
And the final question before you’re asked to subscribe – “How many times do you masturbate”? Cum on! (That’s none of your beeswax, sugar, I thought.)
All this talk of sexually-themed social sex sites, fling web sites and fuck buddy advice had me wondering - what ever happened to the good old days? It is such a different world out there. But who am I to judge?
As I sipped my morning java shaking my head over that text message, I had to wonder what Doyle’s parents would do if they knew their teeny bopper son’s extracurricular activities included fuck buddy sex rather than basketball?
Well there is no Doyle. The text is a clever advertising ploy sent by scrupulous marketers at SocialSex.com to solicit the opportunity for community sex.
No shame there either.
To life and living it,
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through my
Not a creature was stirring not even an ex-
The lingerie was hung by my bedside with
In hopes that a giving man soon would be
The neighbours were nestled all snug in their
While visions of ecstasy danced in my
And my neighbour in her ‘kerchief, and I in my
Had just settled down so - no let’s get it
When out by my glass doors there arose such a
I sprang from my bed to see what was that
Away to the patio I flew like a
Tore open the roman shades and threw up the
The moonlight on my breasts like fresh, fallen
Gave the lustre to my nipples and the objects
When what to my wondering blue eyes should
But a miniature Lamborgini with attached 8 tiny
With a sugar daddy driver, so lively and
I knew in a moment it must be that frisky St.
More rapid than Trojans his lovers they
As he whistled or climaxed and called them by
"Now Kaitlin, now Kathy, now Paddy and
On, Janet! On, Julie! On Donna and
On top of that shingled roof to on top of that
Now hump away! Hump away! Hump away
Slightly exhausted ‘or the wild hurricane fly
When they meet for another round and mount to the
So up to the house-top like horny Trojans they
With the sleigh full of Sex Toys, and naughty St. Nick
And then with a thrust I heard on the
The howling and panting of each little
As I visualized in my head and was turning
Through my glass doors St. Nick came with a
He was half-naked in fur from his head to his
And his plump, little thighs were all tarnished with ashes and
That bundle of Sex Toys he flung on his
And he looked like he had gynecomania just opening his
His eyes how they twinkled. His libido how
His scent were like roses. His lips like sweet
His angelic, little moustache was drawn up like a
And the beard around his penis was as white as
A piece of a pipe he clutched tight in his
And the smoke - how it encircled his head like a
He had an incredible girth and a little round
That jiggled when he squeezed me like a bowlful of
He was chubby and plump, that naughty, old St.
And he cooed when he saw me as he was holding his
A twinkle of his eye and a twist of his
Soon made me realize I had nothing to
He spoke not a word and went right to
As he pounced on top and did the horizontal rumble with a jerk!
And laying beside me I caressed his
And then he gave me a nudge and out the door he
He sprang to his sleigh - to his Trojans he gave a
And away they all skirted like the down of a
As he loved me and left me and drove out of
I heard him shout, "Merry Christmas Ineda and to all a good
Season's Greetings all,
It was time for lunch. There I was seated in a cozy downtown food
court eating a spicy burrito and minding my own beeswax when I was approached by
a younger man.
I wasn’t dressed to kill (although always dressed for success). No cleavage was exposed. The stiletto heels were parked at home. I was wearing casual dress pants, so no leg was salaciously out in the open.
So why then was Fabrizio – the black-eyed Italian stud seated next to me – interested in striking up a conversation with a woman twice his age?
“Nice burrito,” said this 29 year-old hunka hunka burning love, as I wiped some zesty Tabasco from the corners of my mouth.
“I got it from the food vendor over there,” I cordially-replied, washing down some H2O to cool off some of the heat.
Although still slightly taboo in our inequality-obsessed culture - one cannot deny the allure of a younger man/older woman relationship. After all, no one raised an eyebrow when Demi Moore married Two And A Half Men star Ashton Kutcher.
So why then was fabulous, chisel-chested Fabrizio winking and drooling while he sat next to me at the food court? Was he caught in the clutches of a cougar’s grip – although I’m far from a cougar?
Or was he awestruck by my middle-aged beauty trying to be a buddies’ hero in a Mrs. Robinson you’re rockin’ my world scenario?
“You’re a very, beautiful woman,” said Fabrizio, in a complimentary and seductive tone. “May I ask your name?”
“Well, thank you,” I blushed adding, “It’s Ineda and I’m way too old for you.”
Quite to my amazement, this Italian arm candy with the rock-hard abs and tight tush was oblivious to the fact that I was twice his age. As a matter of fact, he seemed turned on by the whole situation. Naturally, I was flattered. Butt…….oh that butt!
Anyway……why was I so over reacting? Dating a younger man really is the perfect solution; since he isn’t looking for a serious commitment. And God knows neither are the men I’ve been dating double and triple his age!
“But Ineda,” he confessed, “the last woman I had been dating was 59-years-old.” “We had a great time together.”
We all know how that works, right? Men half my age have the high-octane stamina and boyish attitude to satisfy their need for a Mrs. Robinson experience. These young bucks looking to learn a thing or two between the sheets know they can discover everything they need to know about sex from an older woman.
After all, older women are no longer sexually-inhibited, we know what we want and undoubtedly have several ‘ blow-my-load’ tricks up her sleeve.
“I liked her a lot,” Fabrizio admitted. “And I really appreciate older women because they have the self-confidence that comes from experience.”
“But wouldn’t you rather be dating someone your own age?” I asked this testosterone-touting male.
“Not really,” he replied sipping his soda.” Most women my age are insecure and have no idea who they are or what they want,” he explained.
I understood. I was once an insecure, pimple-faced, young, 20-something with many feminine trivialities that only serve to turn men off.
“So why did your relationship end with your older lover?” I wondered curiously.
“I don’t really know,” he pondered. “I mean…..she absolutely adored me.
And then – unexpectedly out of the blue and like a proud, strutting peacock with a brilliantly-coloured fan-like tail - he disclosed, “Oh and just to let you know, I’m quite big down there.”
“Well…..I was at a loss for words at that point as I bit off the last of my spicy burrito.
And then it dawned on me……let’s see……"what was I thinking?” I thought sarcastically.
The proposition of unadulterated, mind-blowing sex with a boy toy without the expectation of anything remotely committal?
I know – it’s a tough call isn’t it?
To life and living it…growl…
I’ve been Fluevoged. Yes – Fluevoged!
I was in such desperate need of a decent pair of comfortable designer shoes that I broke down and bought a chunky, funky pair from one of John Fluevog’s collections.
Ladies – we all know – comfortable shoe is an oxymoron. But not the Mini MaryJane Zazas I paid a pretty penny for at one of Fluevog’s 14 or so designer boutiques across North America. Like the holiday season, these plush leather shoes are comfort and joy.
“You can’t buy happiness,” claims the inscription on the reddish pink paper shoebag, “but at least you can wear Fluevogs!”
His stylish leather and rubber soled footwear is completely off the wall. If you’re a shoe fetish conservative, chances are you won’t be donning a pair of Fluevogs. That’s because John’s shoes are unusual and bizarre– not boring.
“Why wear boring shoes?” queries the Fluevog Web Site, “No voggin’ way!”
This Vancouverite has quite the celebrity fan base of ‘Fluevogers’including Material Girl Madonna, School’s Out Alice Cooper and me! And the eccentric shoe designer cleverly scribes names for his fashionable footwear. Some have painted messages on the soles like his chic shoe called ‘Romance’ with a word of advice from Fluevog – ‘Don’t Let It Slip’.
Like comfort eats, the cox boot, rice clog, munster boot, frugal lizard pump, won ‘n’ roll chow fung, swordfish brogue, lift-off orbit and buffy flame boot are all tasteful Fluevog. And hey Nancy Sinatra – guess what? - These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ because they’re food for the sole!
You can even buy, sell, or swap used Fluevog leather boots and high-heeled dress shoes. Touted as one of the Top 10 most innovative fashion companies in 2010, John’s quirky shoes have always spoken to me. It’s as if our ‘soles’ were aligned in the cosmos.
“Always hold onto the truth,” preaches Fluevog, adding, “Don’t let others sway your heart. Don’t compromise. Be separate from the crowd that’s awash with normality by standing on a firm foundation. And never waver in your love or faith and in all you do.”
And after you’ve purchased a pair or two of his celebrated designs, he also thanks you for wearing his prized bread and butter.
“All of us at John Fluevog Shoes want to thank you,” reveals the inside jacket of the recycled paper shoe bag. “We truly hope your new shoes will share you special occasions, magical dates, and glorious daily triumphs with you, while tirelessly enhancing your obvious awesomeness.”
“Congratulations on being an official Fluevoger!”
You’re very welcome, John.
To life and living it,
Ok – so you listened to your loins and not your head and you had sex. You spent the night at his place. Or better yet, you were in complete control and he crashed at your crib.
It was glorious, spontaneous and you felt a deep, emotional connection with him. Although you both confessed you weren’t dating anyone else, you’re beginning to feel that perhaps you slept with him too soon because he hasn’t called after the lovin.’
So now what?
Ladies – wake up and smell the estrogen! Pioneer women like Gloria Marie Steinem and Helen Gurley Brown changed how we view sex – including who dominates the missionary position or who doesn’t? And who texts or calls afterwards or who doesn’t?
For those of you too young to recall Gloria, she’s an American feminist journalist and social and political activist who became nationally recognized as a leader for the women’s liberation movement in the‘60s and ‘70s. I had the honour of meeting Ms. Steinem at a fundraising event a few years ago.
As for Helen, she passed away last month in New York at the age of 90. Helen was the editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan magazine and author of that provocative, 1962 bestseller ‘ Sex and the Single Girl’.
Gurley gave women verbal permission to enjoy their sexuality. She revolutionized the right for women to have sex if they wanted too. An outspoken advocate of women’s sexual freedom, she touted that women could have it all – sex, freedom and money. I loved Helen!
But in the essence of gender equality 50 years later, everything has changed! Back in the day, chivalry existed. Man pursues woman, man falls in love with woman, woman falls in love with man, man marries woman.
Women, like hunted prey, provided the sport and the game to be hunted down like cattle. Once the hunter snagged his catch – hunting trophy in hand – it’s game over. But not so Winchester. Some of my best friends have had sex right away. What followed was a mutually-beneficial relationship and marriage after the moans and groans subsided.
So just because you slept together shortly after dating doesn’t mean that your relationship is a catch and release saga. Emotional creatures as we are, McLovin’ may still be trying to figure out what making love with you implied for him and for you. Could ‘he’ be strolling down the walk of shame and not you?
Think about it –McLovin’ just may have some issues of his own; especially if this is the first sexual relationship either of you have had in a while.
So get real and stop allowing your insecurities to take over just because he hasn’t called. Take it easy and use this time to evaluate what you want and what you want to happen next.
If Helen were here, she’d say you shouldn’t refrain from showing a man that you are interested in him. I may beg to differ. But who am I to judge? Some men have no idea what it means to pursue a lady or how to do it. Their idea of courting is grabbing her hair and dragging her into his cave.
In order to justify sleeping with him, we sometimes start feeling a little needy and overly sensitive to a guy's perfectly normal actions. Let’s face it. Once you’ve had sex, the fantasy of seeing you in the flesh and the sexual pressure is gone. Some guys may feel they’ve conquered the quest. Others may come back for a second round. But it’s up to you to determine whether or not there were real feelings in the relationship in the first place.
If not, so what? And move on.
So back off a little and allow him to make the next move within a reasonable length of time. Don't smother McLovin’. If you want to be with him and see where your relationship could go, you need to step back, not leap forward.
After the lovin’, don’t text, don’t e-mail, and for heaven’s sake, don’t call or leave a vm. Like Lennon, let it be. Put the stilettos on the other hoof. Instead of being finger happy with the texting, let him wait it out and you play it calm, cool and collective.
There are no rules in 2012 that says after sex, it’s the guy who has all the power and glory. Just ask Gloria and Helen! You’ve come a long way, baby!
Remember darling, you're far from desperate. If he happens to call, great! But if he doesn't, use this experience as a learning opportunity for growth and that it happened for a reason, not a season and not for a lifetime. And last but not least – no regrets!
So wait a few days and see what happens. Most importantly, don't waste your time on something that ain’t gonna happen, no matter how much you think you want him. Some men will string you along and play you like a fiddle only for sex.
However, if McLovin’ has called and is showing signs that he is interested in pursuing you, accept his advances and determine whether or not you’re interested. But no mind games please. Hiding how you truly feel, sending mixed messages and making yourself unavailable only confuses the pants off him.
It's imperative that you know how to send clear signals that suggest to him that a relationship is possible. A great man is worth the effort. Unless a man is assured that you're attainable and relationship material and that the ‘thrill-of-the-chase’ is all worth it, he will have no
desire nor motivation to want to have you all to himself.
Unfortunately, you stand a greater risk of destroying the possibilities of an authentic and genuine relationship if you jump into the sack too soon. Sorry – it’s just the way it is – sexual freedom or not.
Choosing to sleep with him is a personal choice. But don’t expect a man to pursue you just because the two of you had over-the-top orgasmic sex for a night or two or three. I know. I’ve been there.
Give him a week. If he hasn’t called, you may want to take the next step and call him. Rather than shit all over him for neglecting to call, you may want to tell him how him not calling made you feel.
But no verbal assassination or desperation in your voice. A decent guy will respect your forthrightness and honesty. He’ll be impressed by your assertiveness and will be more open to talk freely about his feelings – which is why you’ve called in the first place.
But I’m sure he’ll come up with all sorts of reasons why he didn’t call. If he’s been on the online dating circuit for a while, chances are he won’t be back. Unfortunately, the cybergrass is always greener.
Even though the both of you may have had a good thing, there’s always someone out there sexier and prettier. Sometimes just too many choices sucks.
And while the sexual revolution may have given you the power and the right to bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan, if a guy really wants a gal he’ll go through hoops to get her.
That's just the way it is.
To life and living it,
In high school, I was called a tease because I never “dished out” on a first date.
But I do remember naughty Donna. The guys in the halls passionately-pegged her, “Donna do ya wanna?”
I was never like Donna. But let’s cut to the knickers. The first time a woman shags with a guy she’s crazy about can have condom-size consequences. Sex and intimacy – mind-blowing or why bother? – can be one of the most significant parts of a relationship.
But for women, it can also wreck emotional havoc on your state of mind. Having sex too soon can also mess up an otherwise budding relationship. Keeping your emotions in check will clearly define the boundary and behavior you will follow under all circumstances. This is the G-spot to maintaining your dignity and self-worth, and not falling for the wrong arm candy.
STDs a side, the question remains: So how do you know when is the right time to do “the deed” and “bed down” when you’re dating?
Well, it depends.
Some women are happy to spread their thighs the night they hook up with a guy. Others will wait weeks (90 days recommends American Daytime TV Talk Show Host Steve Harvey) before getting horizontal.
Whatever a woman’s decision, I had to wonder. So I conducted my own survey at the gym, during lunch, and even queried a few innocent bystanders as I shuffled home today.
You gotta love 30-something Eileen – a strikingly-tall, carrot-top fitness instructor who recently became divorced after her husband caught her 'red-handed' (excuse the pun) between the sheets with her 20-something, chisel-chested lover. Her no double standard advice? Make sure your first-date sex isn’t a dismal one-night stand. Go all the way!
“Get in between the sheets right from the get go,” she cooed, adding, “this way you won’t have to waste your time. Dating takes a lot of time and effort," explained time-conscious Eileen. “Why go through multiple dates (hoping for multiple orgasms) to find out that you don’t like each other sexually?"
"If you’re not sexually-compatible, bumping and grinding right off the bat will make it apparent," she confessed. “That way, if he doesn't satisfy you, you can dump him afterwards and won’t have to make small talk or pretend to like one another,” Eileen admits.
But I also begged for a young man’s opinion so I asked my 20-something offspring. “Mom,” said my son in an endearing manner, “you old people don’t see it our way”.
“How so?” I asked inquisitively. “Well Mom,” explained my single and unattached son. “If a girl doesn’t want to have sex after the 3rd date, it’s usually because she only sees you as a friend.”
"And Mom” he added, “sex on a first date is like giving you a present without waiting for your birthday. It’s also a sign that the girl trusts you or she just doesn’t care.”
While my 20-something son’s opinion was an eye-opener, I also needed to hear from my trusting 65-yearold friend I call Big Bad Bob.
“Bob,” I asked, “is first-date sex OK?”
“I have never had sex on a first date, “said Bob. “It would take the element of surprise away. I believe the longer the anticipation, the better it is. Foreplay is just as sexy as the act itself,” he explained.
I always used to think it was bad news to have sex so quickly. There are plenty of old-fashioned men out there like Big Bad Bob, who think that if you're too easy, you must be a slut and therefore, he will have no respect for you and won't want to see you again.
But then sometimes you meet someone you're so attracted too and the sparks are flying higher than the 4th of July fireworks. Some women believe that if you bump and grind on the first night, it wouldn’t make an iota of a difference because there's such intense passion and physical chemistry in the air.
“What’s wrong with letting yourself go and having a good time? says 40-something Diana, my gym buddy, a liberated feminist, and mother of two. "Like Nike, just do it!”
To shag or not to shag? Nine times out of 10, hopping into the sack on a first date is a bad idea, especially for those women who are looking for something more than a booty call. But while there are no golden rules, the male assumption - sexist, I know, but true - is that if a woman has first-date sex with you then she'll have sex with anyone on a first date.
I’m all for mind-blowing, amazing sex. But if you’re gonna want some of that bling bling down the line and you see him as husband material, I’d take down the libido a notch or two. Just ask 20-something Bill.
A young and handsome single guy who works out at my gym, I asked Bill whether or not he’d be interested in a young lady if she stripped down and scored on the first night.
“I don’t think so, Ineda,” admitted Bill. “Men like the chase. If she’s that easy-squeezy on the first date, I wouldn’t consider her to be special. Chances are, I’d be dialing her number for a booty call and nothing else.”
Is there a double-standard in our male midst? And so I wondered. If a woman dishes out too soon, does she automatically zilch her chances for everlasting love? Or is happily ever after ‘too-quick sex’ merely some fairy tale nonsense in today’s modern-day dating culture?
Wisdom and experience tells me that it’s all about perceived value. In an age when any average-looking man and woman can get laid, there is a higher perceived value in women who say no. So let me tell you about one of my best friends named Terri.
Terri met Tom on one of those parasitic online dating sites called Plenty of Fish. It was during Lent - an observance in the liturgical year of many Christian denominations, lasting for a period of approximately six weeks leading up to Easter. During Lent, many of the faithful commit to fasting or giving up certain types of luxuries for 40 days and 40 nights as a form of penitence.
And guess what Terri gave up? That’s right – S-E-X !!!!
Tom had patience and obviously wasn’t interested in just a booty call with Terri. He was looking for a wife, a lover, and a mother for the children Terri would give birth too. So on that 40th night – Tom tired of masturbating single-handedly – was confronted with yet another feminine obstacle.
Rather than ‘breaking up with her tampon’, Terri had to tell Tom that she needed one! Terri’s period started the night they were going to make mad, passionate love. And Tom had to wait again. True story!
“But it was worth the wait Ineda,” said Tom, who has been married to Terri for 5 years.
As I walked past a premium Sportsbar in the city on my way home, I asked the young
ladies handing out the menus their take on the situation.
“Guys put more thought into it than woman do,” said one of the 20-something young ladies. Some guys will call a woman a slut if she spreads her legs on the first date. But most 20-something women have sex if they want too. “Call it freedom of choice,” said another brunette woman in her 20s. There you have it Diana!
On the flipside, there seems to be no moral compass for both members of the opposite sex to persuade each other to consent as soon as possible. So does that make men sexual hypocrites?
They push women for sex, and then blame them for having sex. They’re particularly stuck on the idea that if a woman slips in between the sheets faster than lightning, then she must have done this plenty of times under the moonlight.
“This lowers her value in his eyes,” explained bodybuilder Bill. ”After all, if everyone can have her, she can’t be all that special, can she?”
So the question remains – when is it appropriate to have sex when you’re dating?
There is no magic number that will tell you when it’s time to have sex. The 30 day rule? The 10 date rule? These numbers all exist within our own moral compass. Furthermore, sex isn’t something you allow him to do. It’s something that you share intimately when it feels right for the both of you – at that moment in time. It’s never about good behaviour.
So how do you decide?
Ask yourself – are you looking for a roll in the hay with the potential for a mind-altering orgasm, or for a loving, caring, authentic and genuine man to share the rest of your life with?
Know what you want and keep your eye on the arm candy. Figure out if he is interested in you or just your body. If you don’t know the answer, don’t do it. If you think you know the answer, then do it.
And if you can’t handle the emotional consequences of a one-night stand, then you probably shouldn’t have sex with anyone until you’re in a monogamous relationship.
It’s always worked for me.
To life and living it,
My passion for everything Latin climaxed a few weeks ago when I witnessed Latin dual Diva Jennifer Lopez and her hot-blooded, Spanish heart throb Enrique Iglesias sizzle on stage in Toronto. The Red Hot Chili Peppers couldn’t have surpassed the flame-broiling eroticism smokin’ from the bleachers.
I adore Latin music. But all this obsession with Latin lately got me thinking about some of the hottest Latino actors on the planet; and some of the most sensual Latin lovers I’ve rolled with like thunder under the covers.
It’s true. Men from other ethnicities have nothing on the Latin lover. I know. I’ve been there. Spiacente Maurizio and Λυπούμαστε Gus.
One of the spiciest Latin lovers on the continent is none other than Chilean’s Cristián de la Fuente. The media has purported him to be compassionate, full of testosterone and quite the dancer. He has been known to seduce women with his chocolate eyes and cheek-to-cheek Latino smile while he caresses and puckers up to their hands rather than their lips. "Oh, mi reina," (Oh, my queen) "Preciosa," (Precious) "Exquisita," (Exquisite) are among some of his favorite cat calls.
Yes – those Latin lovers have a way with words. I remember when I dated Carlos – a dashing and debonair private banker from Portugal - with piercing, milk chocolate eyes and a brilliant, Spanish smile. I have blue eyes. So I´ve also encountered his Portuguese Brazilian poetic, “Ineda belo, seus olhos azuis são dos céuso!” (Beautiful Ineda, your eyes are from the heavens!)
Oh, Carlos may have had a way with words. Or the way he whispered “nadas doces” (sweet nothings) in my ear – the ones that really make you swoon - over a glass of robust red Porto wine. But Carlos was your stereotypical Latino “o homem da senhora” (lady’s man). And like Lay’s potato chips, he wasn’t prepared to have just one.
Spanish legend has it that your stereotypical Latin lover is a ‘Momma’s boy’ and tends to do one of two things: annoy you or blow you off after having a great night of passion; never calling again. But how does this actually differ from the Greeks, the Italians, the French or the Brits, I thought? Not much.
I suppose there are some reasons why some men are offended by the LL stereotype. But the more I think about it, the more I’ve come to realize that so many of those characteristics apply to all male ethnicities. A hopelessly-romantic man in love regardless of race will go over the top to express his affections to his woman. Romance doesn’t discriminate.
But words are only words. Latin lovers certainly talk the talk but like our fellow Americans would say, “do they walk it like you talk it?" In other words, ‘talk is cheap’ and ‘actions speak louder than words’, or as the Brits would say,’ to be all mouth and no trousers’.
So who are some of the greatest Latino heart throbs of all time? Is it one of Hollywood’s 1925 sexiest leading men Ramón Novarro ? Fantasy Island’s Ricardo Montalbán? When A Man Loves A Woman Andy García? Sex siren Antonio Banderas? Or Eat, Pray, Love and Academy Award winner Javier Bardem?
Interestingly, the first Latino Lover to hit the silver screen wasn’t a Hispanic actor. The most Latino-lethal and famous of them all was bell'uomo Rudolph Valentino – an Italian!
And speaking of Italian and intense - I will always savour the seductive and sensual nights I used to spend with one of my favourite sultry flames. His name was Maurizio. But I applicably called him ‘delicio Maurizio’. I guess I don’t have to explain why. It was one of the most romantic and erotic 9 ½ weeks I’ve ever had with a guy. So forget those Latin lovers. Viva los italianos!
So is there much credence in the provocative stereotypes we all love to hate and hate to love like the ‘French lover’ and the icy Brit? How do we justify such ethnic reputations? Are Canadians 'dull, plain yogurt lovers and do the Brits deserve to be dubbed 'cold fish in the bedroom’?
Are Latin lovers really more passionate?
All he had on was his standard ball cap, faded jeans and a T-shirt that night. But I bet the thousands of misbehavin’ lusty ladies who came to observe Spanish-born Enrique sing, “Tonight (I’m Fucking You)” would agree.
I’ve been obsessed with everything Latin lately. It’s been in my alma, in my alimento, and most recently in my pieza.
What’s up with guys who think true love is just a long-distance relationship away? Or are they just seeking an erotic tête-à-tête while they happen to roll into town for a raunchy and radical weekend?
I was about to find out. Let’s take a look at Ken, a 5’10” sales and marketing executive from Burlington, VT with love…er….lust on his mind. His profile indicated that he enjoyed travel, hiking, camping, and trips to the beach.
“Where do I start,” commences the 58-year-old’s profile. “I am a well-balanced, hard-working guy that has done much in my lifetime; yet I have a burning desire to accomplish so much more particularly with a special women in my life.”
"And in how many cities would you be accomplishing those burning desires,” I thought, when Ken introduced himself to me online.
He continues, “I share my time between Vermont and Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, and I travel all over North America for my company. And a gullible woman in every sandy shore, I thought. “I am serious and stable but believe that having fun and doing exciting things are the spice of life,” he described.
"And how flame-broiling, hot and spicy do you prefer your women?" I thought.
Ken’s philosophy seemed sincere in his email approach to finding heart-pumping love…."I believe that there cannot be anything better than two people in love and totally committed to each other. I am looking for a lady who is content with herself, has a nice smile, a good sense of humour and a kind and gentle heart.”
So when this all-American business executive introduced himself in cyberspace, I decided to respond in my usual ‘don’t believe in long-distance relationships’ and ‘straight-to-the-point’ style.
“Thank you for your email”, I said politely, “but unfortunately, I have no desire to pursue someone who lives in the U.S. It also makes me wonder if guys like you have gals in every port,” I admitted openly.
And like comedian Billy Crystal once said, “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.”
“Ineda,” said Ken, “I just loved your note. I couldn’t have written it better. And no I don’t have a woman in every port," he confessed. “ I’m looking for that special one,” he added, unconvincingly.
A hopeless romantic, I suppose love holds no boundaries so I exchanged numbers with Mr. Vermont because what harm would just talking do…. right?
Then one Sunday afternoon, I received a surprise call from Ken stating that he’d be arriving into town and would like to hook up for dinner and drinks.
He then followed up the next morning with another phone call. “Hi Ineda, how are you? I’ll be in Toronto this weekend and I’d really like to take you to dinner,” he asked.
“Ken,” I replied. I have to dash. It’s Monday morning and I’m just leaving for work. Call me later tonight and we can have a chat,” I said, applying my lipstick.
Now this is where McLovin proved what a jerk he really was.
Remember that scene in the movie, “He’s Just Not That Into You, when Mary (played by Drew Barrymore) is working in advertising for that gay publication? It’s a classic male idiot scene.
In the movie, Mary receives a voice message from a guy she met online (sound familiar?) The guy belts out a tune “Mary….Mary….Mary”…. telling her how special it was that they met online. Mary is excited and smitten. Seconds later, Mary’s machine plays the next message. Shockingly, it’s the same idiot guy belting out the same song to “Jenny…..Jenny….Jenny” – another girl that he accidentally-recorded on Mary’s machine. What a lame brain!
Like in the movie and milliseconds later, my phone vibrated for the second time that morning. “Hi, it’s Ken,” he said, with a sparkle in his voice. “How was your weekend, Kathy?”
“Kathy,” I shouted in a raised and disgusted tone, “It’s Ineda. I thought you said you didn’t have a woman in every port!” “Oppppssss,” he said, responding with embarrassment.
“Good-bye, Ken,” I said eyes-rolling. “And never ever call me again!
To add more salt to his sorry-ass wounds, Ken had the audacity to send me a justification email later that day.
“Hope you had a wonderful day, Ineda. I don’t like looking bad when it isn’t what it appears,” said this skirt-chasing playboy- tail wagging between his legs. “I did call a friend after you Ineda; and she is just a friend. I have no idea what happened when I speed-dialed her number, he explained, trying to cover up his loser faux pas earlier that morning. “Sorry, there was no bad intention,” he added.
I never did the honour of responding to Ken’s email. Why would I? This womanizing sea dog wasn’t seeking a monogamous relationship in my town. It was purely evident by his accidental speed dial that this pleasure-seeking sailor was seeking a good time in every port.
Bon Voyage Ken.
To life and living it,
I’ve said it time and time again that distance relationships are a losing battle. In my inequitable opinion, they don’t have a hope in hell. So when emails pop in my inbox generating from the Stars & Stripes, I cringe.
Peata and Derrick’s marriage is so authentic and genuine, most amorous-deprived, desperate house wives would cancel botox treatments for a year just to feel real love. After 38 years of wedded bliss, Peata and Derrick are more smitten now than back in 1974; when movie goers were still mesmerized by Ryan O’Neal and Ali MacGraw in Love Story.
So when I happen to meet a bona fide cheat and Gigolo, I want to vomit. Let me tell you about “robbing the cradle” Randy - a divorced, high school mathematics teacher who lives in “The Shwa”. I met him online a few weeks ago. Listen to his opening lines….
“I am 60-years-old and I know you have heard this before, but I really do look a little younger due to a healthy lifestyle and good genes. I am quite fit, as I play competitive tennis,” he modestly brags.
Fast cars, sports and hairpieces rolled through my mind, as I read his initial email. Was Andy Randy mid-life crisis material and yet another statistic of geriatric divorce? You can’t stop the waves Randy, I thought, but you can learn to surf. Read on….
“I’m not really an online chat person, so I would prefer to talk on the phone and then meet in person,” he asked politely. “I hope that doesn’t sound too aggressive, as that is really not my nature. I am a people person and have a positive attitude towards life. Also I do have a good sense of humour,” claimed the confident and cheeky 54-year-old teacher.
So when Randy penned those lines, I just knew that I may be up against a cliché. You know – a nostalgic-kinda guy with the desire to live life to the fullest by splurging on the fire engine red Ferrari and spending way too much time in front of the mirror. Why waste my breathe I thought?
I had to seriously think whether or not I felt like meeting “late-in-life divorced Randy” for a shit-load of make-believe fantasy world reasons. On a superficial note, Randy just so happened to live in “The Shwa”. It’s a low-class and undesirable suburb of the GTA. I know because I once mistakenly lived there and I unflinchingly told him so. Here’s more of his email.
“Your attitude seems a little edgy,” he wrote,” but I like your upfront style. Being an optimist, I still feel that I am interested in you. You have my attention for sure. Let me know your thoughts,” he asked.
Call it shallow. But I’ve always loathed “The Shwa”. In my opinion, it smacks of honky tonk trailer trash. Remember? I once mistakenly lived there. So was Randy a prime example of low-grade garbage? I decided to find out. So I tossed the snobbish attitude and opened my horizons. “The Shwa” must have a silver recyclable lining somewhere, I thought.
“Thank you for being open and honest,” Randy responded, as I accepted his Sunday afternoon date to the Toronto Waterfront. “The Shwa” is not the jewel of Ontario,” he admitted. The 'Shwa' is what it is. But you cannot judge all people by where they live.”
Bless you Forrest Gump because dating really is like a box of mixed chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get! Truly fine chocolates are always fresh, less sweet, feature unusual textures and flavours and always contain high quality ingredients like premium cocoa beans and fresh, creamery butter.
Like truly-fine chocolate, a truly-fine gentleman’s greatest quality ingredient is honesty. A husband – former or otherwise - who is honest, respectful and most of all faithful is pure eye candy. Another high-quality ingredient of a truly-fine gentleman is loyalty. Remember those virtuous lines, “I will love, honour and be faithful?”
So was Dandy Randy Godiva chocolate or Bakers' Semi-sweet? I was about to find out.
I met the Queen’s University graduate in a public place of my choice, like I do with all my dates. The first thing I visually-observed about this semi-retired math teacher was his desire to remain youthful at all costs. Dressed to kill, his full head of hair was layered and dyed with streaks of Grecian Formula For Men – as well as his free-spirited moustache.
He was tall and athletic too. I hate to admit it, but he really did look a lot younger than his 60 years; although his profile stated he was 54. Lie #1. As I peppered him with question after question, I could sense an uneasiness.
“Ineda,” I have to admit something to you,” he revealed, as we continued our stroll. “What is it,” I asked curiously. “Well, when I was a math teacher, I had been tutoring a student and we fell in love.”
“How old was she?,” I asked. “Ummm…..errrr……26,” he coughed. “WHAT,” I said, with venom pouring out of my mouth. “I know….I know….Ineda,” he added, foolishly.
The student and the sugar daddy, I thought. For God’s sake, he was old enough to be her Poppy. Man, I despise Viagra card carrying Gigolo’s like that. How could you!, I thought. But then again, we all deserve a second chance to make it right....er...to get it up! God only knows I’ve made a few marital mistakes of my own.
As I chugged a glass of Stella at a waterfront bistro, Randy openly-confessed over his beer how he fell head-over-heals in lust with his wrinkle-free lover. After a few hot and steamy months, they decided to purchase a 3000 sq. ft. home and cohabit in sin. I wonder what the neighbours were thinking!
Whenever there’s an undeniable age gap between a love-sick teacher and his student, there is surely a mid-life crisis in our midst. Just ask any luxury sports car salesman. After 24 months of playing house, the sugar daddy academic and his sex kitten called it quits.
“It should have never happened, Ineda,” blushed Randy, who holds an Hons. B.Sc from prestigious Queen’s. That’s what you get when you think with the wrong head, I told him.
Randy admitted that this was the second time around he was faced with dividing financial assets and material possessions. Lucky she didn’t touch your teacher’s pension, I snickered. But some gigolos just never learn. While I consider myself to be a compassionate woman, I had a hard time accepting his intolerant infidelities because I loathe liars, cheaters and middle-aged gigolos!
The louse confessed his sleeping around with women other than his wife started in Year 6 of their 30-year marriage. So forget about that infamous 7-year itch. Randy was a year in advance - must have been the math!
In reality, most mid-life gigolos are calculating con artists who play on the emotions of gullible tarts in need of companionship, affection and sex. These guys are skilled at spotting anxieties and vulnerabilities and know how to use them to their advantage. The gigolo will play lonely, needy, young women like a fiddle. As a result, I could never fall into his lust-thirsty trap. I’m too wise!
Randy seemed charming and attentive. He listened and paid me a few compliments – one of the classic signs of having discovered with use which of his well-polished lines get the best response. I wondered if he was good in bed from plenty of practice no doubt - another characteristic of a skirt-chasing gigolo.
God only knows why Randy decided to pour out his heart and soul to me that sunny afternoon. Perhaps he was seeking redemption to justify his stupidity and cheating, gigolo ways. Who knows?
As our afternoon date came to a close, I’m sure he realized just as much as I did that there was absolutely no chemistry between us because I wasn’t needy nor deprived of mind-blowing sex. We ended the day with a hand shake and a promise that I would provide him with the name of my family law lawyer, as a result of my financially-lucrative divorce settlement.
Randy really was your typical “The Shwa” trailer trash with a degree. As for that number to my lawyer’s office – sorry sucker!
To life and living it,
I envy my sister. I really do. She has a rare gem in her life that is more precious and priceless than the Hope Diamond. It’s a faithful husband.