In about a week I will have my 61st birthday.
Many people do not know this, but at 61 years a women’s images are automatically withdrawn from any spank banks where even a partial memory might be stored.
(Not Spunky’s image, though. Spunky is immortal, like Sophia Loren and Cher. If you have a mental image of Spunky, rest assured it will not be deleted. Enjoy, toe porn enthusiasts.)
The only thing that encourages me lately on that front is that I suspect sexual appeal is in part about how attractive you are and in part about how reactive you are, and I am nothing if not reactive. Finally, a benefit to having a face that can’t keep a secret.
But of course thoughts like that are all moot. Such things are over, because it seems I am Wife more than Woman, and I will stay true to my almost-seventy year old husband. I have out-Peneloped Penelope now, and I can’t change my nature.
Maybe this sexual renaissance pulsing-pelvis nonsense will settle down and I can go back to not thinking about it.