Footnote to Older Models
I forgot to include this during my past blog and therefore am including it now before I forget.
What actually is the real word for thirty somethings? An octogenarian is eighty years old and it is a word that is frequently used in our society; more so with increased life spans.
So what is a thirty something called? And for that matter, what is a forty something or a twenty year old?
Good old Wikipedia does its masterful work once more.
When I was one
Life had just begun.
When I was two
I am nearly new.
When I was three
I was hardly Me.
When I was four
I was not much more.
When I was five
I was just alive.
But now I am six, I’m as clever as clever
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.
A A Milne
Look at that poem. It’s one of those poems that people will probably have heard at one point in their lives. For some it is a very poignant and memorable chant from their youth. For those fortunate enough to have been brought up on Winnie the Pooh, it is a poem that resonates with times gone by.
So why have I included it on this piece of writing? All will be revealed and please forgive me for bastardising this beautiful little ditty.
A denarian is one who is aged between 10 and 19 – a word that we ought to be using as the attributes of being a teenager spreads ever earlier.
A vicenarian is a twenty something. Lots of vice in immaturity. Lots of naughtiness in the twenties.
A tricenarian is the name for someone in their thirties, not a trigenarian as I had suggested previously.
A quadragenarian is a forty something – again a word that we should be using more frequently. Zenpuss is going to rescue this word and set it in a delightful expression or phrase so that it epitomises the peak of female sexuality.
A quinagenarian is fifty and so forth until they get to the glorious decade of the sixties.
A sexagenarian, lucky people, are in their sixties.
A septuagenarian is aged between 71 and 79.
The octogenarian has already been mentioned.
A nonagenarian is a lucky ninety something.
And a centenarian has made the hundred mark.
Anyone over 110 years old is a supercentenarian.
Now here is an interesting thing. If you write these words on a word document, the first five and the last are not recognised as real words. They have a spell check line that emerges beneath them. Clearly there is not enough use of these special words.
So I have found out what a thirty something is but I have an alternative.
If a sexagenarian is a sixty year old, then maybe a thirty year old could be seen as half of a sexagenarian or a half-sex!
This is probably the case for women, even if it may not be so for men. I think there is the strong possibility that women, who do not come into their own sexually until the thirties are all but disappeared, are possibly only firing on 50% of their sexuality at this age. Thus they are a half-sex; one that is not fully fledged, one that has so much to look forward to.
If this is the case, then does that mean that those women in their sixties are fully fledged, full of sex, full of their sexuality?
I’d like to think so. I can see some major positives of sex in the sixties that is not about Woodstock and burning bras. With no prospect of pregnancy and a delicious lack of concern about leaking bodies, I can see some very fruitful experiences ahead of me as I turn towards being a sexagenarian.
I appreciate that women come into their own sexually at the age of forty but I am pretty determined that this is the start of a new sexual awakening that remains with these enlightened women for a lifetime. It should not stop as the bodies change, sag and diminish.
Men are perfectly adept at having sex in their sixties, seventies, eighties and so forth right up to the Supercentenarian if the will and the ability is still there. And even if they cannot get their tadgers up, they can still think and feel sexual. If this is accepted as perfectly natural, with the possible help of little blue pills, then why can it not be perfectly natural for women too?
I think Zenpuss will have to push this point home in a decade or so. Her lifetime of work will not be complete until there are masses of sexagenarian women happily confessing to visits to Ann Summers and an admittance to loving the sight of two nubile bodies having a fuck.
So I return to A. A. Milne’s famous poem. Scroll back and look at it again, and then multiply each section by a decade.
When I was one(ty), I had just begun – Denarians have the onset of puberty and their first sexual experiences. How exciting!
When I was two(ty), I was hardly new – Vicenarians have been around a bit now for those who are sexually enlightened. Sex is not a new experience but there is still more to come. So much more! Yum!
When I was three(ty), I was hardly Me – the tricenarians might think they know everything about themselves. They may have arrived at where they want to be professionally. They may be parents and feel as though they have reached a pinnacle but they are “hardly me”. Certainly women, as suggested previously, are merely half of what they could be sexually. They are indeed hardly me.
When I was four(ty), I was not much more – but I was beginning to break out and realise the potential of what was out there, sexually, spiritually, sensually. Forty somethings learn well.
When I was five(ty), I was just alive – Having not reached Quinagenarian status yet, I cannot comment but it appeals to me to consider that life doesn’t begin at forty but at fifty instead. Phew! I suddenly feel incredibly positive and anticipate with much excitement the onset of my next decade.
Now I am six(ty), I am as clever as clever. So I think I’ll be six(ty) now for ever and ever – Clever as clever, meaning I have embraced an intelligence around sexuality that could not be known in my twenties and thirties, and that security of sexuality will remain with me forever. Well, that is what I think.
So whilst A.A. Milne may not like having his writing scrutinised with this sort of explanation, I can see some worth in it, and I apologise to all Tigger fans who are offended.
Personally, I think Pooh would see some logic to it all.
Bisy Backson
.........................................................................................................................................................
Becks
They love him don’t they? Women just go all juicy at the very thought of him.
Of course the majority who are moistening their panties do not know that they are doing it. Or rather, they think that they are about to pee when in actual fact, they are probably hugely close to an orgasm.
You can, of course, have an involuntary ejaculation without having a full blown orgasm. And you can certainly cream your knickers up without having a complete flood of ejaculate.
It really is about time that people got this into their heads and did not suffer revulsion at the prospect.
Which is why it was so very, very good to hear Mr. Beckham talking about his wife’s panties.
I’m not sure the comment was even acknowledged properly but I certainly heard it loud and clear.
David was being questioned by Jonathan Ross about his OCD problem: obsessive compulsive disorder. Beckham stated that he had to have drinks set out in two’s with the labels facing exactly the same way. He said that if there was an extra bottle or can out, then it would have to be removed and replaced in the cupboard. Weird!
He continued to say that he spent hours tidying up, explaining that he and Victoria worked well as a couple because he loved to clean and she created the mess. (I wonder if he tidies up after her with a huff and a moan!)
Ross then asked if he had to tidy up Posh’s panties, to which David confirmed that she did tend to leave them around the place. The conversation went on about whether he could actually find her panties, being that they are probably exceedingly small. This was preceded by the statement by Mr. B that he was particularly partial to her dirty ones.
There was a giggle from the audience; a slight guffaw but the subject changed quite quickly.
Now if I had been an interviewer on my last night for the BBC, I think I would have been tempted to go for it and delve a little further into this subject.
Readers, I do not want you to concern yourself with the fact that there is a specific person being mentioned here. If you are repulsed at the thought of Victoria’s used ones, then do not read on but if you are a person of sound mind, accepting that everyone is entitled to being a sexual person, then bear with me.
Becks is a rather sexy man, and I like the fact that he is a sexy man who finds women’s dirty underwear extremely horny, even if it is Posh’s.
I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what he did when he found a pair of disused thongs that belonged to his wife as he vacuumed the bedroom shag (I’m making assumptions here!). I wanted to know whether his OCD led him to storing the aforementioned underwear in a particular place in their bedroom. Being such a rich bod, did he have a special “Victoria’s Secrets” draw where he kept her panties until the aroma had dintegrated?
Or did he stop hoovering when he found a pair of panties, allowing himself time to sit on the edge of the bed and take a good noseful of his wife’s essence?
David, you would be doing the world a hell of a favour if you came out of the closet as being a panty sniffer. Being honest and delighting in one another’s sexuality is the only way we are going to get this show on the road, and with the vast exposure and incredible respect that this man fosters, there could be no greater person than to spread the word about the raw simplicity and wonderment of sexuality.
............................................................................................................................................................
How much would you pay for sex?
How much would you charge for sex?
To be honest, if the person asking for sex was attractive then I am not sure I would bother with a fee. Sex, however, is far more than skin deep. I would seriously fear that a good looking person would be nothing more than a facade and that beyond that pretty face with a well-toned body there was a person incapable of reaching the climes that I am used to.
“If so and so offered you £10K for a fuck, would you do it?”
The real answer is highly likely if there was a glimmer of sexuality and excitement in doing so but I am not sure that I could have sex with anyone, not even for £10,000.
Instead of denouncing prostitutes, consider them having to have sex with some pretty horrible characters. That is not a pleasant prospect. I am not sure how they manage to do so.
I can understand wanting to have sex for fun rather than a mutual desire and love for one another. I get recreational sex. I enjoy recreational sex but only to a point. Real sex is not recreational sex in my opinion. It’s good. It’s hard – in a positive way. It’s horny. But it is not all engaging and for me, sex will never be complete without the whole mind, body and soul stuff.
I also know that some people think they can get that through recreational sex but it’s not for me.
So yes, if someone offered me some money to have sex with them, then I would certainly consider it. If someone suggested to me that I would enjoy having sex with other people and that it would take nothing away from my primary sexual relationship, then of course, I would be more than interested in participating.
It is so utterly liberating to know that someone is interested in me being a sexual person and wants me to explore and develop my sexuality in whatever way I choose to do so.
Respecting my decisions on my sexuality and my sexual journey is equally important, and if it so happens at this moment in time that I find the greatest of sexual excitement and enlightenment with one person, then that should/is respected also.
That is incredibly important.
I wouldn’t want money though. I’d be crap at being a prostitute because I feel so passionately about sex that I really don’t think it should be sought out of need alone. There should be some desire there that is not steeped in the urgent need for a fuck.
I’d happily explore my sexuality whilst simultaneously exploring the sexuality of another without any desire for payment.
Giving life to another human being has to be the most incredible experience ever but giving sexual life to another can be extremely rewarding.
I am finally, possibly, beginning to get a glimmer of thought that I can actually give someone else sexual life, longevity and excitement but I don’t need paying for it and I don’t need to pay for it either.
In summary then, I would happily be paid for sex, though I would not see payment as a necessity.
Rather, I see myself as being a much better pimp!
Now there is something that I could well and truly enjoy.
More later.
.....................................................................................................................................................
And finally.......
There is no finally. The world of sex does not have a finality. These are but a few comments in the month of July in the year 2010 but the finality of the subject and the sexual enlightenment of the masses is a long way from here.
This sexual quadragenarian is off to think about David Beckham sniffing knickers and working out just how much I could offer a sexy man out for to those who would be prepared to pay good money for an orgasm, with me holding the camera to capture it all.
It’s a good old world out there really if you are prepared to look for the positives.
No comments:
Post a Comment