A Niners Tale For the Feminists

by Staff Writer

As one of the many “strong, confident women” who read Tom Paine’s exaltations over the weekend, I sat a little straighter after reading the article. My mind raced back to my youth, when I hid beneath a preppy, intellectual, demure version of who I am today. But, in certain circles with men and women, I was something entirely different. And, living those two separate parts of my whole damn near drove me mad. By burying my sexual passion, I was distinctly unpassionate about all else in my life. It took a great deal of energy and a development of “internal checks and balances” to find my way out of what became some very self-destructive behavior–NOT because of my love of sex, but because I felt ashamed of my own budding sexuality.

I wondered why the sometimes married, always professional businessmen that I seduced could appear more virile after a romp with me. I, however, was left feeling as though I needed to clean up, comb my hair and hope no one noticed the smell of sex all over me when I returned from a long lunch.

I tried, unsuccessfully in my early twenties to start the Social Checklist: meet a guy, get married, get pregnant, focus on my children. But, in the corner of my eye was always the want to go down those slutty sexual avenues that were unexplored.

Turns out, I married the right guy. We’ve uncovered things about each other that we’ve never revealed to another. We see each other, very romantically, as human beings each capable of the sluttiest and most intellectual sophistications. There is a place for each one of our quirky, bizarre, deviant fetishes. And when J whispers in heated, fierce breath in my ear, “Are you my slut?” sometimes I’m not sure which comes first…my answer or me.


I don’t know a damn thing about football. I’ve only been to one Niners game in my entire stint as a Bay Area resident. And, I never made it inside the stadium. I didn’t even have a ticket.

I spent the afternoon indulging the desires of four men before the game. I gave four blow jobs before we even arrived at the Stick: an ice breaker, I suppose. At times I was bound. Some moments I pleased more than one of them at a time. After the game began, I rested in the camper they’d brought to the game. I was already exhausted from three hours of play prior to the kickoff.

In my sleepy haze they came back out to fuck me again, one by one. It was a messy, tiresome, devious way to spend an afternoon. I was a slut. I still carry an evil little grin beneath the surface when I think about it.


The memory of that day, all days before it and the slutty ones to come make me no less an intellectual, make me no less a mother, make me no less worthy of someone’s respect as a professional. “SLUT” is not burned into my chest (I’ll show you my breasts to prove it if you’d like).

“Slut” isn’t a dirty word, unless you like it that way…To our young women, to my own daughters, I say define it for yourself…don’t let a feminist or anyone else prescribe your ideology.

SLUT: Sexually Liberated Uber-Tramp
SLUT: Sensual Loving Ubiquitous Temptress

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10 Responses to “A Niners Tale For the Feminists”

  1. La fille mariée Says:

    I think our experience is a common one, Lola… trying in our youth or young adulthood to fit into some arbitrary mold of the good girl, instead of letting the inner (self-defined) slut blossom.

    Thank goodness we finally get to create our own definition of sexuality… and thank goodness for women like you (and I think me); we are setting the right example for our children and other “youngsters”(I have sons, who, so far, respect women of all shapes, sizes and personalities) — sometimes I believe that the example I set for them is even more important than anything I can do for young women.

  2. Lola David Says:

    I am a secret admirer of yours, to be sure LFM. I agree that there are perhaps more women of our similar struggles than would care to admit. I would even wager that some still struggle and have ultimately decided to oppress what we let bubble beautifully (lousy alliteration) to the surface.

    I struggle constantly with the importance of the message I give to my boys and my girls. If my boys can honor the spirit of the women they love as much as their father has, then that will be something.

    …Yes, your math is right. I have two girls and two boys. Oy—the Shadchan is tired at the thought!

  3. tom paine Says:

    The most-important message we can give to our children is respect for their partners. But our society has an ambiguous relationship with sexual women. Your “tail” gate party would shock and offend a majority of middle-class Americans, and would prompt one of two responses: if you were unmarried to J at the time, then he is a fool for marrying you. And if married, then he is a fool for staying with you. Good girls don’t. Thank God you’re not good, and I continue to admire your husband despite never having exchanged more than a comment on my blog with him. There are lucky women in this world, and the men who love then absolutely.

  4. Lola David Says:

    We were not married at the time–had not even met yet. In truth that story was revealed to him long after he got to know me. I confess to being leary of a reaction–a snap judgment. I am not defined by that experience. It is but one of many things that are a part (if only in a small way) of who I am.

  5. tom paine Says:

    I replayed the story in my head all morning, thinking about what a grand dame of life you are, and your unabashed lack of fear about revealing yourself. It’s the kind of story that begs for ridicule and derision from the small minds and prudes, yet which says to me “a woman in charge of what she wants.” The problem is that our society can’t handle such lascivious behavior, shunting off a woman like yourself into the “whore” or “nympho” ghetto where we no longer have to deal with the incompatibilities of a woman who’s both intelligent and totally uninhibited enough to gang fuck four men.
    I will admit to some admiration for your stamina, Ms. David. But then, I was reading something from “Dirty Couple in VA” today about her pulling a train of over 50 men, and I’d say you’re going to have to get a trainer and begin serious workouts if you’re going to match her total.

  6. Lola David Says:

    I read that story also this morning–and am as exhausted as you just reading it. Those days of many, many numbers are in my past. But, I refuse to forget them. They are a part of the backbone in the raw sexuality that I am still able to conjure up in my experiences with couples and singles these days.

    I welcome all condemnations and praise or even indifference…

    That “here I am” attitude you describe in revealing myself is easy enough to do in text. It doesn’t come out quite as ballsy in person as I hope any number of my intelligent readers can imagine…

  7. Al Sensu Says:

    OK, Lola, prove it.

  8. Lola David Says:

    I’m working on it, my dear Al…out of commission and doped up on pain pills with back problems–and no sexy nurseMAN to take care of me!

  9. La fille mariée Says:

    There are days, Lola, when I believe my greatest “slutty” experiences are far behind me — would I ever invite fucking by three men simultaneously now? — and part of the legend of my life (a wonderful place to visit in my memory, when I want to honour the gutsy young woman I was). Then, I do something entirely crazy and seemingly out of character (not really), like chatting for hours with a Dom I met randomly online, as I did last night, and I’m reminded of who I am, how much fun I am, how great that is.

    He had some wonderful ideas about insertion of ginger wedges while being tied to a bed.

  10. Lola David Says:

    The “legend of my life” is a beautiful way to voice those things, LFM. And, please, pretty please, tell me about those ginger wedges darling…Or, give that gent my email! My J is in the midst of Japanese Rope Bondage courses in our local BDSM society. I have been the recipient of some beautiful ties in red silk rope…

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