Her cheeks were flushed as she spilled out into the busy Manhattan street literally into my arms. I had never met her before – but I knew that face. It was the face of woman who just spent a good deal of time lost in pleasure. There was no make up on her face – but she didn’t need it. Her color was so rich – she was the ripe piece of melon that I often write about. It is what women become after so much pleasure. We spill over….the juices dripping from our very pores. Oh God. I felt a moment of pure joy for her – and a pang. I wanted, no I needed to feel that again in my body very soon.… She threw her arms around my waist in her pure joy and we walked from Hank’s studio over to a nearby bar – as if we have known each other our whole lives. In a sense we were sisters – we had experienced something that not many woman have had the opportunity to experience. Yet.
She was full of giggles. “Oh My God! Pamela!! OMG! I want more! And more! And more! And more!” Ah huh. Ya think? We are so hungry for this – and then over the perfect dirty martini – she said the real truth – the truth of my book – the truth of what it is really all about for women today of a certain age – or perhaps any age.
With her eyes literally as big as saucers she said “He asked me about my desires! It stopped me dead – Pamela. MY desires? Really? No one had ever asked me about my desires! About what I want. OMG. I didn’t know what to say! I wasn’t even sure that I knew what they were! But I knew I had them – and I wanted to explore them. I don't think I can stop now - Oh Pamela - I don't want to stop. I think I have come alive again."
