The party was a casual, post-poetry-reading affair, the kind where the food consists of a single bag of chips that gets passed around, lots of jug wine and whiskey. I was so proud of being a bad-girl mother out at night. " My husband's name is Jack, so that's not an option.A group of us were jammed into the corner of the kitchen when someone asked if any of us had seen a T-shirt with one of those top 20 lists of euphemisms for masturbation. I asked another woman in the group if she had a name for it.
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I said I couldn't have orgasms with my husband anymore, and she said, ' Oh, darling, just lie back and relax!
' This from a mother who had collaborated with my dad on a groundbreaking marriage manual in the early 1960s." J. is an artist, writer, cultural critic and mother of a 3-year-old boy.
The only conversation she and I had about sex was when I was 16 years old. But one thing everyone shared was having gotten a pretty clinical explanation of the birds and the bees, whether it was from the folks, from a sibling or in the dark of a segregated sex education class.
The two older women, who had raised their kids in the 1960s and 1970s, seemed to have participated in the cultural changes of the times and were more open and available to their kids.
But I knew zero about sex, struggled for years to figure out what women's sexuality was all about, was abused by men, didn't know how to find sexual satisfaction with men, who knew little and cared less, and in general had a horrible time of it till my 40s and up!
When my marriage was on the rocks, I asked my mom for help.
I was at a party recently, one of the first parties I had been to since the birth of my daughter. It became a bit of a party game to guess at a few of the likely examples: jerking off, waxing the board, shooting a wad.
I felt a little frayed around the edges -- after all, it was the first chance for uninterrupted adult conversation I had had in months. I like to smoke when I drink, which is seldom enough to make it a social quirk but not enough to make it a habit. " a young man replied with a surprised look on his face. Were the euphemisms for male or female masturbation? I was then asked by a handsome young man, "Well, what do you call it -- jacking off?
Of course, I never wanted them to know I was reading it (and looking at all of those contorted sex positions), so I would sneak the book away into my bedroom.