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 The Peninsula Hotel – 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."
