I was still very attractive ― pause ― for a woman in her 40s. But if we could maybe have more variety: swap with another couple, or experiment wit... polyamory, or he could get a video of me with another woman. You know, something.Nothing. I was willing, but not game enough to suit him. A couple fast fucks on the living room floor with a few of his new “friends,” and my disgust was out in the open. He seemed genuinely hurt that I never came. So he went and got his kicks elsewhere, and I went and. White would laugh as he professed proudly that him and the Mrs. knew each other so well that they didn’t have to talk any more, they could ‘read each other like a book’. Neither of the White’s would ever make the connection but Mr. White would never know how right he was. The dog-eared novels that lay in their places and yellowing with age were representatives of the White marriage. What was once new and exciting had been discarded after folding a page corner to remind the reader where to pick. He pushed something next to the gate and they slowly swung open.The road ahead was gravel and dirt, rutted from years of use and very well worn. About a mile further, they pulled up to a restored farm house, probably a hundred or more years old, she imagined. As the bike stopped, he motioned with a flick of his hand for her to dismount, she did as he instructed. He dismounted as well and turning her by the shoulder toward the house, he followed her to the front door. "My name is Lynn," she. There isn’t symmetry here; both these ideals have their root in a male power fantasy. A male sexual fantasy is presented as a universal human sexual fantasy, and as a result men’s idealised self-image is repackaged as a fantasy for women (and men’s idealised sexual partner is correspondingly repackaged as an idealised self-image for women). Having created this idealised image of female sexuality, media also tells us that, past a certain line, sex with young and vulnerable women is the ultimate.