Along with 50 shades of graying, there are at least 50 shades of women’s sexuality--all the way from my 80 year old Aunt, who couldn’t go long without a man--When her husband died she found a new lover at his funeral-- to Saint Teresa of Avila, who married Jesus who filled her with his spirit and gave her “ecstasy” (her word).

Regular sex, according to researchers, sex experts, and Dr. Oz, helps you live longer. If you do not have a partner, you are not out of luck. Bernini’s famous sculpture, The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, can represent any woman’s orgasm, even if, like Saint Teresa, she has them, in dreams.

Orgasmic dreams can rival if not surpass partnership sex. Here are a couple of testimonies on the Forum of Women-Health.com:

It doesn't seem to coincide with a specific dream…. The orgasms are amazingly intense, almost full body, and nothing like I've experienced during sex or masturbation, and even those are pretty intense.

I would be deep in sleep, dreaming apparently, and then have these INTENSE orgasms while still about 85% asleep! And, I am not touching myself in anyway either!

Women, young and old, can have a robust sex-life with or without a partner. Due to our traditional culture, older women may be too inhibited for auto-erotic or dream-state sex. My advice? Get over it.
Wanda Fullner

We are independent, we are not afraid to be alone...we have a world of friends on our laptops and ipads and phones and computers ....but there is nothing in the Universe that can replace a warm hug, a loving "it's OK" embrace, a human heart that feels your heart. Arm's are loving extensions of our hearts...they are meant for hugging.

Melba Walton

 

There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.
Kazuo Ishiguro

“Downward Dog”

Closed Leaf,
my nose in your smell on the mat.
Dog hair where
we did doga—dear departed.
A sigh, a sob.
I look at you snoring on the sofa.
Thirteen years.
I must stop grieving you
before you’re gone.
Ariele M. Huff

I’ve been told no one can define love, but I think the opposite, that everyone can and does, every day.
    When we talk about love over fifty, pets are a big part of that. Of course, they are at every age for some people. But so many of us—when left by spouses and children—don’t have the desire or energy to find another mate or lover. Sole companions many times, our cats, dogs, birds, fish, snakes, pigs, horses, or chickens become our lifelines to love. They provide touch—so precious. They listen when we talk, watch us, and count on us.
    In jails, prisoners turn to wild birds, mice, rats, whatever will come close, whatever will make some kind of contact. In the prison of depression, illness, lack of mobility, we discover other things to comfort us: pets, plants, television, social media. And then, we love them, it, those with an affection borne of propinquity—and more. With an affection that recognizes the need to feel affection that overreaches rules and custom.
    One day, my mother had a special fly—visiting her as she wrote. She saw intelligence and felt connected—a kindred soul buzzing through the veil of tears.
    May you find and enjoy loving something living today.

“Dancing”

Kamill, a boy I liked, was a good dancer who enjoyed it and knew how to lead. At about 14 years old, I realized I also liked to dance.

It was a popularity contest. If you were asked to dance a lot, and boys kept cutting in just to get a chance to be with you, it showed you were "light on your feet" or had a personality that attracted boys' attention. I liked dancing with boys who were taller than I was and who could lead well. And I discovered I liked being in the arms of someone who guided me in such a way that I could anticipate his next move so we could sway to the rhythm of the music in unison.

I loved the sensation of being led by someone smoothly, gently but decidedly. "Let the
man lead, and give yourself over to him” are some of the secrets of good dancing, because,
ultimately, it depends on his skills.

I spent many nights dancing with many different young and not so young men, but never became tired of the sensation. In a way, it is like good foreplay, a legitimate tactic for being embraced by someone in public. Add some romantic music, mood lighting, and a couple of drinks, and you have all the ingredients for dizzying feelings unlike anything else.

Kamill and I were young and very proper, however.

 ©2009 by Marta Boros Horvath  Stories from Hungary

 

"For My Love"

 Folks can say we don't act our age

that we giggle too loud, late at night

but they're just on the dour page

and us, we living with delight

 

Yes, you make me feel sixteen again

and yes, I like this 'sixteen' better

and oh yes, you make mornings with rain

just so much prettier.

James Stansberry

Why am I blogging? And why this blog? Why about love, romance, and sex?

Fair questions since I haven’t been much into following blogs and previously stopped doing a blog through Barefoot Running ezine, a publication and a sport I love.

First reason, my lifelong dislike of the general trend to find love, romance, and sex laughable or disgusting in the elderly seems well shared in this way. If you doubt this ubiquitous social attitude, recall the last time you saw a story about the elderly couple married fifty, sixty, or more years. “Oh, they’re so cute!” the reporter gushes. Please! Staying married that long requires a lot of skills, guts, and nerve. To have that reduced to “cute” is so patronizing. Or try having a conversation in a public place where you’re sharing that your over 50s aunt is in a steamy romance. Watch for the shocked faces and “E-yew” grimaces. (Betty White has done this one a couple of times on Off Their Rockers, a series devoted to showing how the majority of adults under 50 misjudge and perceive those over.)

Second, Nick Wong is doing a blog from Brazil about his work there and sharing his feelings on several topics. I found myself reading it faithfully and, though the subjects are often sad or scary, feeling accompanied in a transitional time for me too. I felt closer to him than to most people I saw in person. Therefore, I concluded, blogs have that value.

Third, Marta Horvath (in a Write About Your Life class) began doing hauntingly beautiful stories about love in all its aspects, including sexuality. That’s unusual in any class composed of any age group. Her writing seems the perfect counterpoint to or medication for the disbelief or dislike of older people enjoying flirting, courting, and mating.

DISCLAIMER: I find it easier than easy to write about love (note the posts Love is a Decision and Struggles: Loneliness). And I’ve previously written light erotica and pieces about sex. HOWEVER…I am NOT finding this easy. I want to be as personal and as authentic about sexuality as I can be about love and romance. That’s my goal.

In actual practice, I’m finding it difficult not to default into generalities, not to dance around problems, not to leave myself out of the mix—to pontificate to the masses. This self-protectiveness is understandable, of course, but the value I found in Nick and Marta’s writing was that opening of self. Some opinions on the blog so far are that I’m too shy and hidden or too open and sexual.  

Lol  ;-)

My attempt will be to share honestly without being vulgar or explicit in a gratuitous manner.

Excerpt from A Submarine
by Ritzy A. Ritzhaupt © 2013

"Peggy and Handy Together"

They became as one as they loved each other sharing the deepest joy of being joined together. Their bodies shattered into tiny pieces. The room glowed with the vibrations of their newfound energy. They revelled in each other’s arms. They screamed in unison during their loving climax holding on with unbelievable strength as they reached the ultimate goal of being one. Handy knew when he inhaled her scent that she would always be beside him.

Peggy melted to him with their two hearts beating in unison. The aroma of heated sex filled the room. She knew she would love him forever. She wound her legs around his, refusing to let him escape. She felt him in her soul and in every corner of her being. The tender lovemaking by her oversized man filled her with joy that reflected in her eyes as the hazel color engulfed him. He surrendered completely shuttering one last time in pure joy. They continued to hold onto each other while wave after wave struck them, like the ocean crashing upon the rocks. They were exhausted but they could not let go. He bent down and tenderly kissed her forehead.

“Sweetie, no matter where I go, I will always carry you with me.” He reassured, cradling her to him, protecting her from all harm, as he cherished her very being.

“I love you so much, sometimes it hurts,” she expressed in soft sobs while he protectively rocked her until the tears stopped flowing and once again, she smiled.

Two emotional refugees adrift in the sea of humanity, had found each other. They each were surprised that someone could actually love them. They carried the burden of neglect and abuse, dragging each one of them down, as it had tried to drown them giving the earth two less people.

Together they stood strong and appeared tall like a golden statue, but shallow to a casual viewer. Their feelings and support for each other ran deep beneath the sea. They had each fought their own battles to survive to adulthood.  The grace of an added supporter gave both of them strength beyond that of a towering mountain. Each had withheld love from people who would only hurt. Now, they were freely able to share between themselves. Giving support to each other through any situation that would devastate most people. They were survivors and together they formed an unbeatable force with overflowing love. 

 Novel being written by a student in my class. Permission given to post.

Struggles: Loneliness

Of all the struggles with love, romance, and sex that  I hear about from
people over 50, loneliness seems to be the most common and the worst.

My mother mentioned it often after my father died. She survived him for
12 years and 23 days. My grandmother mentioned it a few times during
the 23 years she out-survived my grandfather. Friends and students also
comment on this factor of aging: loss of spouses, loss of social contacts
through retirement, loss of friends & family through moves and deaths.

The photo below of my mother the year she passed shows a big part of her
network of support. However, she was a friendly woman who managed
to have a male companion in spite of all odds. She cultivated her next
door neighbor--a man of my age--who had been a teacher like herself.
A totally platonic relationship, her time with Dan still fed the need for
companionship. They baked pies together, played with her cat, and
endlessly discussed what it was like to be teachers. Shortly after this
photo was taken, Dan dropped away from their friendship. Later, we
realized he'd not wanted to go through seeing her die, but, at the time, it
was a devastating blow for her. Within a month, she began to demonstrate
what later we discovered were cancer symptoms. She died in about three
more months. Her sense of betrayal at Dan's unexplained absence was
part of it, but just the absence of the almost daily connection was a huge
blow to her quality of life.





Four Generations: Mom, Me, Daughter, Grand-daughter

 Personally, I seldom feel lonely. I have a husband, four daughters (available by phone or

email if not in person all the time), and since I still am teaching writing classes, I have a

large group of people I see weekly. Those groups are highly pleasurable and stimulating.

I read somewhere that just having a place where you are expected to be with regularity

supports living longer and happier lives.

My writing classes do that, and to some degree, even my online writing classes provide

companionship, certainly challenge and creativity.

 

 

 

 This is a photo of a small group of writing students at the Greenwood Senior Center.

Lyda, the woman standing next to me (far left), passed a year ago. The most memorable

thing she said to me was, "If you liked sex when you were young, you'll ALWAYS like it."

I consider her saying that to me a major gift to give to another person.

 

Groups like this are a part of what keeps me feeling needed, interested, stimulated, and

more alive to things like love, romance, and sex.

 

So, thanks, friends!

Ariele





Want to know your "real" sex age?  Real Age testing has come up with a test to find your sex age.
After you answer the questions, it's stuffed with fun fax, even aphrodisiac recipes.

https://www.sharecare.com/assessments/check-your-sex-age-now/completed?recs=true&moduleId=781351&assessmentJcrPath=%2Fassessments%2Fcheck-your-sex-age-now&testCompletedState=COMPLETED&raapId=780545

Mine is 20 years younger than my biological age.
A little disappointed. I'd hoped for 16 years old.  ;-)
amh

Purpose of this blog:
An open forum to share our struggles and triumphs surrounding Love, Romance, and Sex. This blog is NOT limited to people over fifty. Part of the discussion I'd like to hear is the fears and hopes younger people have for this upcoming stage of their lives. Welcome too: General comments about Love, Romance, and Sex. Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Transgender comments and sharing is welcome. Love is love in all its forms.

Though I have a long career as a published writer and writing instructor, I am not attempting to teach or persuade with this blog, not about writing, not about blogging, and not about life. The sole purpose of this is to open the conversation and allow us to hear each other's experiences and thoughts.

With an amused smile, I'll delete anything too explicit or "hater" based. This isn't a forum for rants or judgments.

Looking forward to sharing and learning from you.
Ariele

PS If you want anonymity, use a "pen name." If  you want to attract readers, feel free to leave links to your own blogs or books. (Commercial ads will be deleted.)  Posts and comments made to this blog may be used at a later date in book form. This blog--Fifty Shades of Graying: Love, Romance, and Sex After Fifty (c) 2013 Ariele Huff.

Foreplay

 

 

In younger years, I needed little to none.

 

Though I revelled in afterplay and inbetween play ;-)

 

At 64, I'm a sensualist. That means he pets my hair, snuggles on the couch, strokes my face, and reminds me over and over that I have a physical presence--a body.

 

Living in the orgasmic energy or glow lasts longer now, even more easily achieved, invited back.

 



Plus, my good luck is to have someone who ministers to the satisfying glow stage.

 

Never any complaints about my sex life. As Woody Allen said, "I never had an orgasm that wasn't just right on the money."

 

But youthful sex is more mechanical. Life, experience, love all make the mechanics less intriguing--the flow state the goal and reward.

 

Mmm, and I'm there--the place an old friend, a location not requiring mapquest directions. 

Brilliant ! well written , concise , and deeply meaningful to me as i approach my 80h decade.

Thanks for sharing your innermost thoughts.

here's mine. I have never been more contented than now. People seem to respect my bearing as an old man in years but not in spirit.

You are an inspiration to all your students.

Best wishes for your future

Friend Jim

Dr. James P. Hodges

Author of "Beyond the Cherry Tree: The Ethical Leadership Principles of George Washington"

jim@leadershipbygeorge.com 

www.leadershipbygeorge.com 

Your beard’s tender prickles

awaken my inverted teat from its slumber.

My lips touch your back now soft

with kisses reviving

muscles that once defined

the strength of your embrace.

Your large hands cradle my cheeks.

I lose myself in their dry calloused grooves

tracing back years of hard times

that yielded to moments of laughter.

I want to joyfully weep, but

you won’t let me.

Still can’t believe, even now

the happiness you brought.

 

   By Jeanette Martin

Love is a Decision 

Ariele M. Huff

Everything we believe is a decision. We choose among the beliefs others share with us, the proofs we see, the training from our childhood, and the feelings we’ve experienced. It is even a choice to continue believing as we did from our early years. (The unanalyzed life, you know!)

So, here are mine.

1)      Love is not just one thing.

2)      I think of it primarily as a commitment or a promise. Since I love Brad, I stay with him through thick and thin. Since I love my daughters, I say that, to me, they can do no wrong. Since I love my classes, I keep finding ways to teach them for over 30 years!

3)      Which leads to my main requirement from anyone who expresses love to me: loyalty.

4)      Loving feelings come and go. They could also be called affection, tenderness, cherishing.

5)      When I have loving feelings, a warmth and open-hearted sensation go with them.

6)      I often want to say, “I love you” when I have those feelings. While I often have those feelings for people I’m committed to—like my husband, children, pets, long time friends, I can also have those toward people who are passing through my life. Where no intention of long term commitment is on either side.

7)      That kind of love is, to me, a universal love that means something like, “We’re part of the same species or just energy force.” I can feel this for plants and animals too. In a sense, there’s permanence to that too, though we may never physically meet again.

8)      That feeling makes me want the best for the person or entity involved.

9)      Sometimes, that feeling stimulates me to give some commitment—help, money, listening, compassion—even though I don’t expect that person, plant, or animal to stay in my life—and I don’t need that to feel fully loving in that brief time.

10)   In general, I love all life and can often feel that love even when someone is treating me badly or causing me trouble. While this can surprise me on a feeling level, I understand it. An open heart is an open heart.

What do you think love is?

 

 

 

The hardest part of characterizing love, romance, and sex over fifty to people under fifty is that the really good stuff doesn’t lend itself to explanation—anymore than the results of meditation or the experience of nirvana or the body/soul connection during orgasm are easily described.

Perhaps, it is impossible. Certainly, revelations, epiphanies, aha moments, and eye-openers of all kinds seem to require that the seeker of truth have within his/her experiences at least a clue to the answer, a key to the door.

In my sixties, I find that my greatest joys—my deepest sexuality, my fondest loving moments—are often side-by-side with despair, loss, or confusion. Maybe that is more like being sixteen than being forty.

A good question:  Why try to share with younger people? Because when I was younger, I was interested and it seemed no one wanted to open that Pandora’s Box.  Plus, I think hearing it, might make things nicer for people when they get older and might make things nicer for the older people they are around until then. It’s just a hunch.

When I was young, I heard all the jokes and the disparaging remarks about older people being sexual, how their bodies were disgusting to see, sex between them disgusting to imagine. Yet, I saw that it was only older people who seemed to have relationships devoid of struggle, blessed with contentment. Younger couples could be deliriously in love and then spew hateful words. Not all older couples were balanced and happy, but the truly happy couples I knew were all beyond their 20s. And the older they got, the more likely it was they were satisfied with each other.

Please share your Fifty Shades of Graying: Love, Romance, & Sex After Fifty  ©2013 Ariele M. Huff

For my blog/POD book, I want your stories, opinions, poems: 250-350 words or less. I’ll use your name, maybe photo unless you request not. You can choose your own nom de plume to be anonymous, if you’d like. Please include current age.  I’m also looking for a handful of younger people submissions—their views on love after 50. So, a teen, a 20s, a 30s, a 40s is kind of my initial idea. We’ll see what happens as I explore this new territory!  Send to ariele@comcast.net. Honesty is highly desired, but vulgarity isn’t. 

 Examples of short contributions:

“It’s About Time”

I was relaxing and enjoying the day with a friend, and all my six plus decades. “How would you like to have that!” he exclaimed in typical fashion as a pretty young woman walked past.

“Nope” I replied as he looked at me, mouth half open and a skeptical gaze. “Honest truth,” I said adding, “and no, the fires of passion have not gone out. Don’t you remember all that stuff when we were young? Performance anxiety, are we doing it right? Am I going too fast? Am I going too slow? Mostly excitement and hormones, and when it was all over, you were out of breath and out of everything else, wondering if there was anything more. Time and experience DO matter in romance, love, and sex. A lot of those questions from years ago are gone now. You can have old knees but a young heart, and your libido can develop a few more gears to improve the ride. Now, the journey getting there is as exciting as the climatic arrival. In fact, when you’re done, it’s still may not be over. You can just shift gears and keep going. The ride can last for days. Remember Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast?—an ongoing experience.” I looked at my friend.

“Time to go,” I said. “I’ve got an experience waiting at home.”  Milt Footer

 Love does not have to come in a small box bought by a secretary, sex does not have to be necessary or a chore, and “I Love You” does not have to be a ten-pound  box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers bought at the discount flower shop on the way home. Connie Campbell

"SEX & LOVE"

Sex is friction.

Love is commitment.

Hormones dress them up,

like literature and cinema.

the form survives.

Ariele M. Huff

From The Perks of Aging: Blessings, Silver Linings, and Convenient Half-Truths

available on lulu.com