Live Nude Girls!

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My father is dying. His death will come not from cancer or heart failure or any of the other killer diseases. He will die of exhaustion, and old age (he is ninety) and his inability to recover from the thousand ills that flesh is heir to.

He is now in hospice. I spent yesterday by his bed, spelling his wife so she could attend to the business of daily life. I watched basketball and held my fathers hand as he drifted in and out of a twilight sleep. Once or twice he looked at me but there was no recognition in his eyes. From time to time he would twist in his bed and his sheet would uncover his thin, frail legs and I would gently put it back in place.

During his life, and well into his eighties, my father had a strong sex drive. In the mid nineteen nineties we travelled to Havre de Gras, Maryland, chartered a thirty-six foot boat and sailed the upper Chesapeake Bay for an extended weekend. One evening on the trip he reminisced about his various sexual liaisons with women during the 1940’s and ’50’s. His tales made me uncomfortable; many of his conquests came  after he married my mother. He related his adventures to me as if I was a stranger and not the son of his long dead first wife.

He loved pornography. His taste were relatively vanilla. He particularly liked photographs of naked buxom blondes. The internet was a boon to him. We would meet every month or so for dinner in a Knoxville restaurant and he would urge me to visit this or that web site, eagerly telling me how hot the women were. Again his enthusiasm embarrassed me. While I also enjoyed sex sites on the ‘net (my tastes were considerably more exotic than his), I still had a hard time accepting his voracious carnal appetite. I could not imagine my father and I having a lively conversation about how enticing these women were, and what might be done to their nude young bodies.

His interest in sex faded and then vanished over the past three or four years. By last year his only remaining interests in life were old movies on television and an occasional Tennessee football or basketball game. He no longer remarked on the bodies of the cheerleaders. He just stared silently at the screen. I found myself missing his ribald comments; without his sexual interest in women he seemed diminished and sad.

I will miss my father. I will miss many things about him, including his keen joy in sex. I think his carnal desires kept him alive and gave him joy until near the end of his life.

I hope he would have liked the photos in this post. Photo credits are listed below.

By Manu2560creative commons

Photo credits (top, from left to right): Augenfutter (1-2), cc; rockst7ar (3-4), cc; tatgirls7410 (5-7), cc

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