A woman knows when she’s reached that age of transition in life—our middle earth, Menopause—when she and her girlfriends can sit to shoot the breeze about the kids, the budget, the weather, and food and sex as if they belong under the same category.
Take, for instance, a piece of velvety rich, chocolaty fudge, so silky on the tongue—pleasurably delicious—“it is as satisfying as an orgasm,” this, a friend recently told me. We laughed! But then I couldn’t help but ponder on this new revelation, never having given this much thought before. I had to agree. How could I argue!
Without-a-doubt sex is gratifying, delightful and fun, but food is easier, when you consider the extensive acrobatics and sweating involved when having sex, and at my age! I am far from being a spring chicken; I am a woman now dealing with midlife crisis, Menopause! So, if given a choice, I would most often prefer to sit and watch a romantic comedy and enjoy a comforting meal of creamy, cheesy macaroni & cheese, or fried chicken and biscuits, and a big hunk of sinfully delicious chocolate cake. Umm! And this ultimate moment would be supremely enjoyed followed by hugging and kissing and cooing, if my hubby were to offer—an added aphrodisiac!
Long-gone are the days when we’d wait for the kids to be asleep so we could close our bedroom door, or sneak away to a secluded place, like the garage or closet, to make passionate love—no matter how cramped our space, how limited our time, we had fun and made the most of it. But now we contend ourselves to sit together and make passionate love to a plate of food before us; a time of indulgence shared together. And if there is room and passion left in our souls for physical joining, so be it!
We dream a life to be; we live to dream that life! (vka)