More Erotic Fantasies from an Older Woman

More Erotic Fantasies from an older woman

Though I am not married, I believe in marriage. I like the word, “husband”. I know this may make some of you smirk.  How can someone like me, an avowed feminist, be supportive of marriage? I think I believe in marriage because I believe in happy endings, holding hands, sending cards on birthdays, celebrating anniversaries, making a relationship romantic even if it is a long term one. I like to word “husband” because it means to me a nice man who is there for you in the long run. Someone to watch your back.

Last night at a dinner party with a group of friends the subject of marriage came up, and I said I hoped to remarry before I was dead. Several of my guests laughed and then a few comments were made like, “Why would you want to get married?” and “Why not just live with the person?” and “Would you want someone around all of the time?”

I am used to these kinds of comments but they still bother me. It seems to me that I should be allowed the same kind of romantic hopes one has when one is young. I have been single for a long time, actually since I was relatively young, and I haven’t lost my romantic desire to be with a significant other. I have no need for financial support nor do I want someone to take care of me. I just want to have a husband.

Yes, it’s true I have gone out with a lot of men. As Marilyn Monroe said so wisely, “Some girls just get asked more!” I have had a really good time over the last 15 years dating up a storm and I don’t regret a minute of it. Now that I am announcing to the world I want to settle down, the world laughs at me!

I wonder why this is. Is it because their own relationships have lost their romance? Is it because they feel uncomfortable when I speak of romantic love and how I would like to find it? Is it because they think I am “too old” to be thinking like this? I am embarrassing them in some way?

I don’t think you are ever too old to be a romantic. I think it is what those small moments are for when you have a really happy daydream about something romantic and you find a small smile on your face. I think it is when you see something about your beloved that reminds you how tenderly you feel about him. I think it is having the pleasure of seeing something in a store you know he would like and buying it for him.

I think sometimes if people could still try to believe in magic they would be happier and have more fun, be more relaxed, and have more meaningful relationships. I am used to people laughing at me because I say things they may have felt but are uncomfortable hearing. Fantasies are not for the faint hearted.

In recent years I have run into a few men who have tried to have a relationship with me despite that fact that they are married. This is such sad behavior. I find it not only bad behavior but also insulting to me. These men prefer, it seems, to compartmentalize their relationships: one for the family, one for love and sex, one for business, etc.

So what am I saying here? I believe in romance despite the fact that I am old yet I find it difficult to speak about my beliefs as most people I know seem uncomfortable with dreams and romance. Romance, to me, means loyalty, faithfulness, passion, support and most of all, flatly refusing to give up my hopes as they get me through the night! And that means a lot particularly in today’s’ world.

So to all of my friends who make fun of my desire, I ask that you change your tune and support me. You may find it fun to dream as well!

My Bunion

My Bunion and what it taught me.

First of all…was the bunion named after Paul Bunion? Does anyone know the answer to that?

I am an expert in what it feels like to have a bunion as I have had one for 15 years.

I never knew I had a bunion until a friend of mine who happens to be a plastic surgeon looked at my foot one day and said, “Oh MY! How long have you had that?” “What?” I asked…

When he pointed out my “deformed” foot I was in shock. How could I not have noticed my problem? Then my yoga teacher noticed it and focused on teaching me exercises on how to help my bunion. Frankly I had no desire to do this as I had no sympathy for my bunion. Apparently it was unsightly and it was causing all of my very expensive Christian Louboutin’s to be uncomfortable. I spent a bit of time each night trying to straighten it out along with trying to flatten my hammer toe.

None of these attempts were very successful and in the long run I grew accustomed to my bunion. Until the other day, that is.

I was at a friend’s house and it was a “take your shoes off “house which, thank God, only happens in California. I had taken off my right shoe and was working on my left when the child of the house who was standing next to me asked, “What is the matter with your foot?”

I swear, until that time I had been willing to overlook my bunion. It rarely caused me pain, it seemed fairly normal to me, and I just assumed the yoga teacher and the plastic surgeon were focused on symmetry and perfection.

Coming from the mouth of a child, however, I knew my foot must look weird.

All at once my world has changed. I am reluctant to wear sandals or go barefoot. I don’t wear the shoes I used to that I think now show my “deformity” too much. I am now really angry with my foot. You see, it is my second deformity. I also have scoliosis and never and I mean never walk away from anyone wearing a swimsuit. If I did I know they would also know about my major curve.

Basically for the past few weeks I have been whining to myself about my bunion. This whining has lead me to other imperfections in life that some of us have. Like cancer, for example. Imperfections, you may ask? Why use that word?

I use it because I think that’s how we secretly look at any human being with any type of disability at all. From bunions to cancer, we want to be perfect and if we find we are less than perfect there is a bit of embarrassment , an almost shame, that we feel.  It is so interesting to me how I came to this point.

I have a friend who has just had bunion surgery and has enormous pain right now. She had to have the surgery as she could barely walk. Sometimes at night I think of the doctor performing the surgery, wielding a giant hammer on that hammer toe, smashing it down, placing a pin in it, believing it will all grow back perfectly and be symmetrical again. This frightens me. I also feel frightened if I imagine getting sick with cancer and how I know I would feel as if I didn’t want anyone to know. I can’t be less than symmetrical, myself.

Life is so fragile: the constant unfolding of layers and the dropping of disguises. The process of understanding where you fit and what you stand for. Many of us have bunions. Many of us get cancer. Many of us have other issues that also make us fragile in life.

Loneliness, for one. I don’t really have a conclusion here. Just a commentary on bunions, an ordinary part of life and a wish that we could allow ourselves and everyone else to be less than perfect.

Erotic Fantascy for Post Menopausal Women


Tonight while waiting for my son

In a restaurant by the water in the setting sunlight a man

Passed by and I wanted to keep him.

He sat across from my table and while I waited,

 I had married him and we were old.

He loved me completely and with a passion

He wore elegant skin and defined hair and grace.

He read the paper in bed with me.

We went out to dinner often

Remarking at our chance encounter at this outdoor restaurant.


A black car pulled up in between us and a woman with black everything emerged.

She looked around for my husband.

He placed his hand in a way that knew her.

I thought this must be an error as

So much had happened between us

In this minute of our lifetime

In the cerebellum of my mind.