If I were in Lo’s brain, I imagine it would look like the cockpit of a plane. There would be all sorts of gauges and indicators. When she sees something she likes (whether it be shoes or a new purse, a pretty curve of a woman’s breast or a bulging cock in a man’s pressed pants) all the lights would flash and the dials would spin. But, beyond these daily spikes in the instruments, there are a few other dials. Over there to the far left is one labeled “monogamy/polyamory.” Over on the far right is one labeled “horny/sex-crazed/off-the-hook.” These dials have longer cycles of alternation. Sometimes the first dial, on the left, will be pointing toward monogamy for months on end. And then, without any real warning, it will slowly drift toward polyamory. The other dial, on the right, is always at least on horny, but within a few days it will begin to tip to the red line of sex-crazed and occasionally goes to the danger zone of off-the-hook. When the dial on the left is pointing at monogamy and the dial on the right is off-the-hook, I am in for some serious demands placed upon my time, my energy, my stamina, and my performance. But when the dial is pointing toward polyamory, as it was a few weeks ago, then I get a brief respite to recoup.
So, if Lo were feeling randy for a woman, then there would be little problem. There’s always Heather or Sylvia. But when Lo wants a man, it’s a bit more of a challenge. This time, when she was aching for something new, something fun, she resorted to her old standby — a post on Craigslist. It ran:
In a good, loving relationship with a great guy — quite a bit older. (And he’s ok with this too!) Need a little something more to keep me satisfied sexually. I have VERY high standards and am VERY choosy. If you’re interested and think you can keep up with my appetite, you have to do a few things:
1) Write me a long e-mail telling me about you — interests, life-situation, sexual experiences, expectations, etc. (Poor writing skills are the first disqualifying factor.)
2) Include a few pics — nothing explicit necessary, but you MUST be well endowed.
3) If my interest is piqued, I will require that you be available for a phone call.
If you make it to the final round, we can meet up in person.
Within minutes, literally minutes, Lo’s in-box was stuffed. She liked the prospect of having her box stuffed with the cocks of anxious guys. But as she went through the responses she found her suitors to be sub-par at best. Some of the men who responded were downright rude and mean-spirited. I just can’t comprehend the point in going out of one’s way to say something negative in such a venue, unless these guys are feeling awfully insecure, inadequate, and rejected.
But, after some time had passed, there were some more thoughtful and creative responses. Lo took her time to inspect each one — discarding any poorly crafted entries (unless, of course, they were accompanied by a visual that made up for the written word) — and inspecting the pictures for quality and indications of authenticity. After careful scrutiny, Lo reduced the finalists to three. Two of them never came through with a phone number, but one of them advanced to step three.
Around nine or nine-thirty one night, Lo got naked and hopped in the shower. She was in there for at least a half-hour with the door open as I lay in bed reading. Her predictable crescendo of moans to screams coincided with the plumes of steam flowing from the top of the doorway to the bedroom ceiling. After she got out, she looked at me and said, “Was I loud?”
“A tad. A tad,” I said, desiring her ferociously.
She tiptoed into the bedroom and lit a candle, slipped into bed, and dialed the phone number of contestant #1.
[From the story “A Hard Man is Good to Find” found in blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]