There is a thick line, not a fine line, between sensuality and obscenity. It is not something you trip over and land on the other side. It requires an agenda and substantial effort.
© 2021 David M. Rubin. All rights reserved.
Tag: Sexuality
Casual disappointment
Question: Why is casual sex so disappointing?
Answer: Because it is casual!
More often than not, the casual folks are disappointed when they don’t receive a stellar performance from their partner. There is no meaning beyond the performance, hence the emphasis on bedroom skills – a compensation for the lack of emotional intimacy.
Thus, if casual is your thing, then stock up on the Viagra, get in tip-top physical shape, and study a copy of “The Joy of Sex.” Is that still in print?
© 2021 David M. Rubin. All rights reserved.
Breaking the mold
Break the mold, she told me. Do something adventurous and bold. And so I broke with her that day. Just like that!
Told her I was off to being exciting, provocative, and bold. And for a moment, she just stared: open-mouthed, eyes dilated, and face in a flush.
The Cathys
My clunker of an 1987 Oldsmobile came to a stop, but too abruptly for nurse Cathy’s liking. I’d applied a bit of excess pressure to the brakes, causing a slight jerking motion to our bodies, but no more. She was being Cathy the drama queen though. Her head shifted violently forward and then backward against the head rest, arms and legs splayed outward and apart, as if I’d crashed us – high impact – into a cement wall. She groped at her neck, whiplashed of course, and then her head toppled to the side, with tongue distended.
Elephant in the room
This was the last leg of our father & son trip, to cross the Canadian border and explore the innards of another country, a first for both of us. But Dad always ran his tires into the ground, until they were bald and ready to bust open, and so there was always a 50/50 chance of losing a tire on a long trip. And this time we were on the wrong end of 50/50.
I began hearing the sound earlier, but said nothing, hoping the road was just old and noisy, keeping my eye on Dad’s involuntary expressions. Dad turned towards the driver’s side window several times, looked into the rear view mirror, wrinkling his forehead a bit, and then refocusing on the road. Once or twice he looked at me for a second and said nothing, wondering if I’d been hearing it too, but I said nothing. We did this kind of silent inquisition often, keeping elephants in the room as long as possible before acknowledging them, hoping they’d run off. But this beast was staying and getting bigger, Dad and I finally looking all over, window to window, mirror to mirror, getting more nervous.
Notes from David 