She was everything he’d ever fantasized about. Young. Lithe. Sexy. Passionate. But he never dreamed how tough it would be to keep up
Who is your fantasy sexual partner?
Mine is a swimsuit model who makes her own porn. Insatiable. Adventurous. Flat stomach. Yoga-flexible, hangup-free, and orally fixated.
And she’s my actual girlfriend.
I’m not bragging here (okay, maybe a little), because I’m no Calvin Klein model. I’m a divorced father of two in my 40s. My hair is going gray, my skin wrinkling. Natalie, on the other hand, is a decade younger and physically flawless.
When my marriage fell apart, the one silver lining I saw was the possibility of dating a woman like her, someone who would make me feel like a testosterone-crazed teenager all over again. Maybe I’d finally join the Mile High Club.
nd then along came Natalie, seemingly heaven-sent. We met at a writing workshop; I was her teacher. For everything in the bedroom, though, I would be the student.
During one of our first sexual encounters, she had her long, tanned legs gymnastically spread in a way that really shouldn’t be anatomically possible, while I went down on her.
When she scissored her legs around my neck, I thought of a nature video of a female praying mantis decapitating her lover during copulation.
“You’re getting, like, 10 percent of me here,” she growled.
I tried to imagine the last 90 percent. Perhaps I should get some rest first.
“I’m in my sexual prime now,” Natalie explained afterward. “You’re not. That’s just reality. I’m not going to be ashamed of my desires. If I want to be pleasured by five men at once, I get to have that fantasy.”
Clearly, it’d be a challenge to go one-on-one with a woman who’s ready to take on a basketball team, and not feel outmanned.
How could I, a mere aging mortal, expect to satisfy this woman’s Olympian desires?
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