A Pilgrim’s Digression

I am convinced that the stereotype of the gossipy woman is actually a man-generated myth meant to provide cover for our own nosy nature. This is especially true concerning one topic in particular: sex.

Men love sex gossip. Or at least I do…but I don’t think I’m the only one.

The other day in the car, Lynn and I were talking about a friend of ours and her troubles. Laverne and her boyfriend are separated both in terms of age and distance. He is in his late fifties and she is in her mid-forties, and he lives in West Virginia while she lives a couple hours away in Virginia. Suddenly, Lynn offered the following titillating bit of gossip: “You know their sex life is not so good, either.”

“How so?” I asked, trying to be non-nonchalant, though I was suddenly all ears.

“He’s on anti-depressants, and he has to stop taking them three days before he sees her. Then he has to take Viagra prior to sex, and she has to warm him up in order to get him going. I said to her, ‘You don’t need that, Laverne. That’s too much like work.’”

“Wait, go back…” I said. “So how does she warm him up?”

“Well I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t ask? Why didn’t you ask?”

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Of course it’s not relevant, but I want to know. I mean, I can use my imagination, but my imagination is pretty wild.” I was imagining electrodes hooked to his genitals, perhaps the use of a sex toy to stimulate the prostate and thus an erection…but in truth “warm him up” probably just meant oral sex.

“Well, I didn’t ask,” Lynn said.

Maybe that is one big difference between a man and woman. I think I would have found a way to ask, if I were in a conversation such as that. Probably such a conversation would never occur between me and another woman, though. Women don’t talk to male friends in quite the same way as they talk to intimate female friends.

I can remember another conversation we had, once, about our neighbors. We have become pretty close to Larry and Tina over the couple years we have lived here. They are about a decade younger than us, Tina just having graduated college in 2005, and Tina is not shy about talking about hers and Larry’s sex life with Lynn.

This time, Lynn and I were in bed when she offered this interesting bit of insight into the mating habits of our neighbors.

“You know when Tina and Larry do it, he likes for her to be on her hands and knees and he takes her from behind.”

“Oh yeah?” I said. So far, nothing seemed particularly odd about that.

“Yeah. And he makes her croak like a frog while he does it.”

“What?! Why?”

“I don’t know. He just likes her to croak like a frog. Sometimes they hop together.”

“That is bizarre,” I said. “What could he possibly get out of that?”

“I don’t know. But you know Tina shaves down there.”

“Oh really?” I said, further intrigued.

“Yeah. She says most women shave…do you think that’s true?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “So is it completely shaved, or is it just trimmed, or is it like a Hitler mustache or what?”

“She gets a Brazilian wax,” Lynn said.

“So she is completely smooth?”

“Yeah, she even has the hair removed around her anus.”

“Hmmm,” I said, imagining what that must look like. Then I started imaging another woman waxing her. That was some pretty exciting imaginings, there. “Hmmmm.”

“Do you think I should shave?” Lynn asked.

“No, not unless it bothers you and you really want to,” I replied, using the standard Husband’s Equivocal Answer Number 5.

“I really don’t want to,” she said.

“Then don’t,” I said. “It doesn’t bother me. In truth I had never even thought about the subject until you mentioned it.”

“I mean why would a man want a woman to be bald and smooth down there? Women have pubic hair! There’s nothing wrong with it,” Lynn said.

“Some men are probably attracted to how it makes the woman appear younger. Young girls don’t have pubic hair,” I said.

“You mean children don’t have pubic hair. That’s just gross!”

“Maybe some men prefer eating bald pussy. You wouldn’t get any hairs in your mouth at least.”

“And women like getting hairs in their mouth when they go down on a guy?”

“No, of course not. But hey, I keep mine trimmed,” I said.

“I know. So you don’t think I should shave?” She asked again.

“Only if you want to. It might be interesting…”

“So you’re saying it would be interesting for you?”

“No, you do what you want. It makes no difference to me.”

“Hm. Well, I won’t then,” she said.

“Good,” I said.

In truth I probably prefer bush to none at all. A trimmed bush maybe…but some sign that I am fucking a real woman and not a Barbie.

“So what have you told Tina about our sex life?” I asked.

“Oh nothing. Nothing at all,” she said, not very convincingly.

“Nothing?” I asked.

“No, nothing,” she said.

“Not even…”

“Nothing, I said.”

“OK,” and I conceded, happily, not really wanting to know the truth.

Then Lynn said, “By the way, you can’t tell anyone about any of this. Especially the frog thing. Tina would kill me.”

“Who would I tell?” I said.

“Well, I don’t want you blogging about it or anything.”

“Of course not,” I replied.