She was less shy, more confident, wilder. And so the year went on. Rinaldi was 44 years old when she experimented with an open marriage. Meanwhile, it turned out that, for around six months, Scott had been exclusively sleeping with one woman, a lot younger than me. Many people will find this hard to understand, but, as the door to motherhood closed, I found myself rushing towards this whole other outlet of heightened female experience — taking lovers. OneTaste was populated by cool, open-minded San Franciscans who wanted to expand their horizons. We stumbled to the bed, where he turned me onto my hands and knees and took me from behind.
They included an astrologer named Jude, 12 years my junior. Before long, we were having sex again. The first lover I met through nerve. We stumbled to the bed, where he turned me onto my hands and knees and took me from behind. I was pretty conservative. We knew we were both sleeping with other people, but we kept to the rules and never spoke about it. But, by the end of the month project, moving back home full time proved more difficult than I had thought. I stuck to that. OneTaste was the place where I selected most of my lovers, although I picked up a couple of guys, like the year-old in Vegas, on business trips. Suddenly I found an updated version of myself. Meanwhile, it turned out that, for around six months, Scott had been exclusively sleeping with one woman, a lot younger than me. And so the year went on. She tells what happened on her yearlong sex odyssey in her memoir "The Wild Oats Project. He sent me an email, out of the blue, several months after the project had come to an end. I broke the news to Scott that I wanted an open marriage in early , a few months after his vasectomy. And then there was Alden, a writer, in his late 30s, who answered my nerve. Both of us could sleep with whomever we chose as long as we used protection. Without missing a beat, he reached over and lightly took my fingertips in his. First I channeled the creativity I would have used to become a mom into my sexuality, and then I channeled it into writing my memoir. We had intercourse twice and, after he left, I felt satiated. But we had a real connection. Slim, handsome with glasses and a stylish haircut, he suggested we kiss to test our sexual chemistry. It was the perfect balance, living on my own during the week and then returning home. Stuck in a rut — our once-a-week sex life was loving, but lacked spontaneity and passion — I was craving seduction and sexual abandon. Before then, starting a family had felt like one route to this elusive state of feminine fulfillment. Five years on, Alden and I are happily living together.
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