My 8 year-old niece, Krisma Boet`s spawn, refers to sex as wiggling. She came to this epiphany one afternoon when she happened to see their 11 month-old male Boerbull pup try and mount their 5 year-old male Saint Bernard (which incidentally was a short-lived experience in the forays of inter-species and homo gender loving for Buddy the Boerbull. Nothing ‘puts you off your game` quite like the snap of an irritated Saint Bernard). Kelsey, seeing this display of attempted doggy love, tugged on her dad`s sleeve, pointed at Buddy and Max having their ‘moment` and very wisely said, Look Daddy…they`re wiggling. *choking sounds from daddy, followed* Why are the wiggling, daddy?. *more strangled choking sounds* Go ask your mom, Kels.

I was in Jozi at the time and happened to be there for the ensuing family council meeting where the perils, joys and necessities of Doggie Wiggling was explained in great depth and detail (In the Dennis family Family Council is much like Tribal Council, with one member being sorted out by the rest of the tribe for being obnoxious. Unfortunately for Ryan he is usually that member). I later remarked to Krisma Boet that, in the grand scheme of things, they handled it quite well. At least Cathy did. Perhaps his intermittent mumbling of, I`m castrating any damn man that comes near my shorties (his two little girls) didn`t help. I mean…that just opened up the, Daddy what is castration? can of worms. *choking sounds*

But I digress…

The FPU was quite progressive and open about wiggling when I was growing up much in an On-pain-of-DEATH kind of way. While wiggling as a necessary evil was explained in great detail (the FPU believed in the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees and a whole barrage of wildlife, some fish and Mick Jagger kinda` explanation of what wiggling was about). The great perils of wiggling too early was advocated with the zeal of a cross-eyed cultist and it was understood that ‘single parent I may be at this time, but you will not. Ever.

Much later, the FPU (being very forward-thinking, and not a single parent anymore) relented about the extreme perils of wiggling and left it up to the ‘ole I`ve brought them up with good values and standards. They will make wise decisions mantra issued by nervous parents the world over.

As a result of this same Values and Standards the princess was a late bloomer. Not for me the exploration of early teenage wiggling. No sirree…in fact, I was terrified of the litany of consequences for any reckless teenage wiggling (as there was never an objective view offered of responsible teenage wiggling. In the FPU`s mind, NO wiggling was SAFE wiggling).

All things considered (and against all odds) I have a very healthy attitude towards sex. Now, the world is clearly divided into the following type of women…those who really do not care for sex and find it just SO messy and disorganised, those who has sex for the specific objective to procreate and cannot understand what the fuss is about, those who secretly enjoy sex or suspect they will enjoy sex only they`ve never experienced the Big O and, as they will never EVER discuss sex openly with their partner or girlfriends (much less whisper it to themselves) there exists absolutely no chance of actually realising that all important crest of physical outlet so brazenly pontificated about the world over by Mills ‘n Boons heroines. Mmm…. Moving on

Then you get the singular type of woman, who not only enjoys sex in all it`s many guises, but embraces the notion that an orgasm is not a case of hit and miss and it is quite possible to enjoy the full experience Every. Single. Time. They will talk quite openly about sex, the joys, the mysteries and the various ways of making sure he gets his, while ensuring that you get yours beyond a shadow of a doubt.

However, as surprising as it may seem, the modern goddess is a surprisingly rare creature. In this day and age, women are still quite abashed about their sexuality. The age-old adage of lady on my arm, master chef in the kitchen and wanton sex goddess in the bedroom has not traveled very well through history. In fact, most women through the ages could only manage one or the other (although I have no doubt that there are some ladies of negotiable affection out there who can cook up a storm).

The phenomena of the sexual goddess is not a foreign one… In ancient Sumeria and Babylon, the queen was the center of the civilisation. If the male of her choice did not sexually satisfy the queen goddess, it was considered a sign that the land and its productivity were in trouble. In today’s post-modern sexual “revolution” many women rebel. They are sexually frustrated because of religious considerations, social pressures and beliefs imposed upon them as a result of…well…history. We have moved our consciousness from cultures that celebrated feminine sexuality to ones that stigmatise it.

Or something like that. Point is….POINT is…

Sex and embracing your sexual nature became a decidedly masculine sport a sport which, I daresay, could be greatly improved by a willing and adventurous accomplice (right guys?). But the idea of the virginal women, naïve about the joys of the flesh persists in the minds of the greater populace and women cannot be seen embracing their sexual nature. Because…well, ‘for shame, you harlot!.

So, what I`ve been trying to say quite emphatically (in typical convoluted Princess Echoes manner of taking the garden route to drive home a point) is that some women really really like sex. We think it`s the dogs` bollocks. Especially if it`s with someone you really like (as opposed to Joe down the road who is just an elongated meaningless encounter to wile away the time). And there`s nothing wrong with it. There`s absolutely nothing wrong with talking openly and freely about sex and liking sex. Rather, there is a problem with irresponsible sexual behaviour.

In fact, I would like to see anybody call me anything but a lady. Nothing in my attitude and behaviour will ever remotely reflect anything but someone who respects herself enough to be picky about who she chooses to share intimate moments with. It is my unquestionable belief that inside every chick is a Sumarian Goddess waiting to be unleashed.

And, of course…although you are a lady on his arm and a goddess in his bedroom, by no means do you have to be able to cook up a storm. Because this is the enlightened age and men can now cook better than most women.

Failing that, there`s always Mr. Delivery.

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