Tuesday, April 08, 2008

hard pound

I love to read. My husband and I love books. Got that from my parents. When I was younger, I'd always have a book with me wherever I went. Even at parties, I'd have my face burried in its pages.

My favorite genres are Science Fiction, Fantasy (Harry Potter, Forgotten Realms - yea, the nerdy stuff) and Intelectual Porn (did I say that aloud? I actually meant --) Romance.

I started reading Romance early in high school. I mean, after a couple of years of teen romance, there's really no other way to go. And it's not the only thing I read. At the time, I read Tom Clancy, James Clavell, even some classics (Leo Tolstoy). But I would always go back to my hard pound books (as my husband lovingly calls them).

I only read one romance author -- Johanna Lindsey. She had the best balance of plot, sex and the most amazing characters. I tried reading others but they just were not as good. It's actually just this year that I found 2 authors that I really enjoy.

So, a couple of weeks ago, after having found 2 new great authors, a box comes from an online bookstore containing about 8 new books. My husband watched as I stacked them on my bedside table in order (2 different series). I was taking my time and reading the back and just deciding which to read first. After an hour, I started reading one. I was very much engaged.

"Why don't you just go to the sex?", he asked.

"Well, it would be out of context. That would spoil the story." Then we had this discussion on porn. We concluded that guys just need a picture to get off and girls need 400 pages of prose.

So, last week, while I was enjoying one of my new books, I was getting to the good part. Things were heating up... Then suddenly... My eyes just started to skip over the lines and my brain was like "blah... blah... blah... ok... let's get on with the story..." I had to stop. Put down the book and asked myself, "What just happened?"

Honestly, how many iterations of "his hard pulsating arousal was so close to my hot, burning need...." can you read? We got it. They did it. Let's move on.

We used to really enjoy this stuff.

True. But we never had easy access to the real thing before we got married.

And since we're well satisfied, we've become cynical?

It's like sports. Participating is better than watching. What's more boring than a swimming meet? What's nicer than the feeling of moving through the water in long strokes pushing your muscles until they're at their limit? You'd rather swim in the pool than watch others do laps.

Are we getting old?

Who isn't? Get over it. We're better off. Life's good. Let's move on. Let's go do the honey.

Not tonight - it's a school night.

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