I’m naked. My bare skin is hypersensitive to the chilly air currently drifting in from the open window, while behind me a pocket of warm air tickles my buttocks. I hear footsteps. It’s Otis returning. I love the way he walks; flat-footed with each step crossing slightly inwards.
I’m bent over the sink, brushing my teeth in the bathroom. My man comes in with a happy, sexy grin on his face. He wedges himself behind me, spooning me perfectly. I twist my hips, get out from under him, drop my toothbrush and bounce into bed. Otis bounces into bed next to me. I bat my eyes at him, “Let’s watch a movie.”
Otis puts on his sexy voice, “I’ve got something else in mind.” He looks at me hopefully, like our dog Tippi when she wants me to take her for a walk.
“No, I don’t want ‘something else,’ I want to watch a movie.” He immediately looks downtrodden and I feel so sorry but I can’t help myself. I don’t want to have sex. I offer, “Well, I can smoke some weed and get drunk?”
Otis says, “No, I don’t want to have sex with someone who is not quite herself. I love you!”
I’m impressed. I’ve got a good man here.
Otis sighs, “Okay, let’s watch a movie. What do you want to watch?”
Deep down, I fall deeply in love with him. He does not force himself on me. He is such a gentleman.
Let me explain: I received a surprise gift for my 55th birthday: going sober. Otis and I decided to stop drinking and smoking. We immediately went cold turkey. A life-long habit of alcoholism and drug dependency disappeared on the spot.
Now, about a year later, I have no desire to ever get foggy again. I’m stone sober and loving it. However, without getting drunk and stoned, I do not have any interest in sex. I feel like a new person who has been freed from the idea that, as a woman, I am obligated to provide sex to my husband. I feel great to be able to say no whenever I want.
I am 56 years-old, I have two grown daughters and I’ve had sex in every which way – I feel just fine taking a break. I am at peace with my body. I like myself.
But I must say, I feel bad for my man who is half my age, healthy, vital and sexually active. He once told me that sex enters his mind about a thousand times a day. When he sees a girl, he immediately thinks, “Does she want to have sex with me and do I want to have sex with her?” I can’t help but laugh because that’s the LAST thing that comes to my mind when I meet someone new. My new sexual freedom is a “tragedy” for my man.
At first, he obliged and stayed away. Now, after about six months of my celibacy, he is treating me progressively worse. Otis’s throat charka is burning up. There are “truths” he wants to tell me. What are these “truths?” To me, “truths” mean facts. What Otis calls “truths” are not so much facts but how he is experiencing me. Otis roams the room and yells at me.
Meanwhile, I’m getting angrier by the minute. The Black Witch is coming out and she triggers Otis’s very angry side, which I call the “Black Wizard.” My witch and his wizard are two bad asses that perfectly compliment each other. “If you yell at me, I yell back LOUDER!!!” We yell LOUDER and LOUDER and our fights become more and more frequent and nonsensical.
After the fight, my mind clears. I realize what it’s all about: there’s only so many times a man can ejaculate into the sink before getting mad at his wife. Everything would be easier if I were not celibate.
Trouble in paradise.
I ask The Prostitute, “You’re a sex worker, you’re good at having sex. Can’t you just help me provide service to my lover?”
She laughs, “They forced drugs on me when I was only a little girl. I developed a dependency on getting high. I died of an opium overdose when I was fourteen. I don’t ever want to be drunk or stoned again. I quite like your situation: sober and powerful! You’re a boss, a property owner! I really like that. I like my new life with you. I never want to be back in that brothel where I have no rights. Now I just eat candy and go shopping for new and fun stuff. I have no interest in sex. I’m so glad you quit!”
I say, “Oh, you’re my sugar addiction and my shopping addiction! And now I understand why I’ve completely lost interest in sex since I quit weed and alcohol. You know how much trouble that has caused me? Otis is half my age and he needs to have sex!”
The Prostitute nods, “I know, a young man needs regular outlets.” She lets out a pearly laugh, “I love how Otis looks when he sleeps. By the way, never disturb men when they are asleep. Men are very cranky when they don’t get enough sleep. Things will be much easier if they’re well-rested and fed. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! Haha!”
“Stop blabbering on like a stupid girl! You’re inside my body, he is your husband too. What should we do?”
She sighs, “I’ve got a plan…”