My first node that sent to Node Heaven, and I want to add to it, so it's just become a daylog, instead:

I'm not even going to touch the "women prefer assholes" question, except indirectly - but I do want to go off on the tangent of "what do women really want if they don't want assholes" except, not being enough of an egotist to speak for my entire gender/race/species/class, I'd have to define it as "what this woman prefers....." (And that really divides into two categories as well -what this woman wants (in general) and what this woman wants (in bed), but the two do, strangely enough have commonalities. Strange.) Background logic - I've been surfing match.com for about a year, and have yet to meet someone through that medium who has all the ingredients of "I can hardly wait to jump him." So I've tried to understand what intrigues me. Also, I spent my adolescence in the south - this turns out to be a fairly important contributing factor.

1. fuckability is much more complicated as you age. I miss college, where the equation -"he's kinda cute, I think I'll jump him" leads to boyfriend, leads to eventual realization that even tho he makes your panties wet, you can't stand his company. (See following.)

2. Language is the Root of All Sexiness, or Women are Turned on Verbally, Men are Turned on Visually. A female type my age (37) did not have anything even vaguely resembling pornography or dirty pictures to look at during adolescence, so most girls got their first thrills not from looking at nekkid pictures, but from reading smut. (The only pictures of nekkid men that appeared during my adolescence were clearly intended for other nekkid men - the playgirl variety.) (Altho I will confess to having read various documents beginning with "I never thought it would happen to me but...." at various times in my life. The same rule still applies. Language, not appearance....) The "He pressed his burning kisses down her bosom" and "his throbbing manhood" kind of smut - I remember one where the babe must not have had any intact dresses left, he ripped her bodice open so many times.

Corrolary: I am turned on by language. The best foreplay is a good, vivid description of what someone is planning to do to me later in bodice ripper language, full of euphemisms or the I never thought it would happen to me but.... kind - in person at dinner, via e-mail, on the phone....I don't care. (Don't you remember the scene in the novel Jaws where the heroine goes to the bathroom at the beginning of the affair to take her panties off? This was a formative moment for me...) Sex with no imagination, well, I could do just as well by myself. (See Every Woman's Fantasy, by Iseult. If I could cool it, I would.) It's true, but it'll work better if I know what to expect....conversely, if I've had a hellish day at work and all I really want is a martini and to be Left Alone, an unexpected attempt to bend me over the table may result in a quick left uppercut. Not conducive to an imaginative sex life.) Delta of Venus was also pretty eye-opening.

3. Stupidity is Sexy. Not run-of-the mill stupidity, but goofiness-type stupidity. Invite me to pick raspberries and then start a raspberry fight. Preferably on a really hot, sweaty, muggy, day, with a skinny dippin' hole nearby, when all I really want to wear is raggedy old shorts and a bikini top anyway. Think of the possibilities....

4. Laughter is Sexy. Make me laugh. Tickle me. Make me snort milk out my nose. Laugh at my stupid, crass jokes, bitter sarcasm, clever one-liners and I will follow you home, panting.

5. Flirting is Sexy. See the comment about growing up in the south - southerners are pucilanimous, suspicious, dangerous, loyal, hospitable, charming, mean, and they hold grudges, but man, can they flirt. Watch a seventeen-year-old batting eyes at his great-aunt, and you'll get the idea. Make me think you think I'm pretty sexy, and chances are I'll start feeling it. Which leads to -

6. Sublety is Sexy. The kind of flirting in number 5 is not the "cute titties" type of flirting, but the focusing of an incredibly tight beam of attention on me and then load on the hyperbole.

7. Sensuality is Sexy. (See #6.) Back to the raspberries. How much of a really I-can-hardly-walk-now, rub me with peanut butter lovemaking session would be actual intercourse? Throw in a shower, a roll in the raspberries, a chance to dress and undress each other, a massage, a meal of disgustingly sexy food not only used for nourishment... (see lesbian love scene in The Lyre of Orpheus, Robertson Davies) and now you're starting to engage all senses. And all available body parts.

8. Slow Down. Slow down. Make out. Watch the Submarine Races. Slow down. Slow it godamm down.

9. Imagination is Sexy. See corrolary of 2, above. We may not be actually doing those things, but a little imagination goes a long way. Fucking is just fucking, sex is a cornocopeia.

10. Everybody Wants Me. Not a statement of egotism, but a point of view. If I start thinking everybody wants me before I go to the grocery store, I'm a lot more likely to make eyes at the hot gal checking out the cantaloupes, or flirt with the bag boy. And who knows, maybe it's true?