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He was kind to me, sharing himself freely, without hesitation.
He told me of his youth growing up poor in Ohio with an alcoholic father. He was nearly literary in his fearless individualism, like a character out a Kerouac novel, and I wanted more of him.
I've been married once, in my 20s, and engaged twice.
But my last ex-boyfriend, the man I expected to live the rest of my life with, smashed my heart apart when he left abruptly last June.
I've always been sexually driven, but when I entered my mid-40s I found myself experiencing greater pleasure than ever before. is the best word to describe this newly impatient urge.
I know what I want: a reflection, I think, of finally beginning to discover who I truly am.
I met him in Nashville in early December of last year, in a honky tonk called Robert's Western World, where live bands play rockabilly loud and the barmaids serve frothing, ice-cold cans of PBR alongside bologna sandwiches they fry on a grill.
I took one look at him and he took one look at me and we both knew where the night was headed.
Being alone isn't easy for me, and being celibate is even less so.In early February I drove down to Nashville, where he met me in my hotel.I tore at him, pulling off his clothes, my hands too eager to stroke his body, feel the muscles ripple under my fingers as he strained against me.The lovers I'd taken in the off times of my on-again, off-again relationship with my ex reflected my emboldened desire — and, I suppose, my growing confidence. Bob, who guided me on horseback through the foothills of the Tetons and showed me scars from his years in rodeo.The gorgeous, half-Sicilian high-fashion photographer in Milan. And dear Thomas, a brawling, Black Irish madman who rescued orphaned kittens and old men who had fallen into rivers. I know I'm not the only one, the only 50-, or, 40- or 60-year old woman feeling this way: in a state of perpetual half-arousal.
We spent much of the three days in bed, making love and napping extravagantly, emerging only to hike the nearby hills, stripped bare of greenery, oddly lovely in the flat winter light.