"And then one of the kids hollered, and I ran down the hall, totally forgetting I was just wearing the panties and the boots."

Yep, she really said that.

She'd been getting undressed, see, and was down to her fancy new knickers and her boots, and one of the children cried out in their sleep, and she just had to race down the hall, catching her husband's attention -- he was uploading pictures from his camper to his computer -- and then (imagine that!) he chased after her, this vision of near-nudity in high boots, with his camera.

But she didn't set that up. She didn't intend for him to take her pictures! Oh, no, no, it was completely unintentional.

Why do women say stuff like this?

Granted, she's about ten years younger than me, but that puts her in her mid-thirties, not her mid-teens when such sexual self-deception is excusable, or even her mid-twenties, when it might still be lingering. In my mid-thirties I wasn't playing those kinds of games with my own head. I might play them deliberately with a willing partner, but neither of us believed the pretence. It was for play.

But she seems to expect that I believe it was unintentional. A child cries out in their sleep, and she MUST race to them. Immediately. Wearing nothing but a pair of silky panties and high boots? What will THAT do to the psyche of a nine-year-old boy?

Honest to Pete.

Silliest thing I'd heard in a long while. And while this is a strong example, I hear this sort of thing a lot. Women who just can't allow themselves to take ownership of their sexuality. Women who pretend they're not courting male attention, women who just don't know how they managed to end up having sex. Come now. Unless you were unconscious, you have to have cooperated a little. (If you weren't cooperating, you were raped, and no, you were not complicit. At all.)

But I'm not talking about rape. I'm talking about women like my friend who set up sexual exchanges, but pretend they're not doing so. Women who manage to have articles of clothing removed "without realizing" they were being peeled off their body. Women who stare at a fellow across the bar and then react with outrage and disdain when he approaches.

I don't get it. I'd far rather be party to what happens to my body, far rather play together with the man, than be played with.

But no. She races around the house 2/3 naked, but it has nothing to do with flaunting her gorgeous ass and long, lean flanks to her husband. Not at all.

"He chased me down the hall with the camera! Can you believe it?"

Well, yeah, I can. What I find harder to believe is your wish to pretend you had nothing to do with it.

Sigh...