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The Cosmology of Sex
Forget what polite society says is acceptable. The universe is yours, if you can be true to your essential self, and that means making peace with your essential sexual nature. Therapist Deb Laino wants to help.
(page 1 of 5)
It’s just before midnight on a Friday in Trolley Square, and the bar inside Toscana is boozy and swelling. Handsome men and women forget about the recession for a while. They sip their pints and cocktails. They dangle themselves before one another without reservation. They lean in to fight the music for closer conversation. And they smell one another in the dark. And they laugh on cue. And they touch elbows and shoulders and backs incidentally. And they pretend.
Somewhere in the mix is Debra Laino, Delaware’s lone certified sex therapist, standing beside a high-top corner table with a fresh peach martini in her hand. It’s her first night out in months, and she’s happy to be here. This is her laboratory, her jungle of discovery. She watches the crowd and riffs on the countless conventions of sexual behavior, sharing one hypothetical after another, taking verbal note of every observation. Rising above the illusion.
“Here ya go. Women’s clothing. I don’t understand why all men wouldn’t want to wear women’s clothing, even once. I mean, why wouldn’t men be curious about what it’s like to wear a pair of pantyhose?”
She looks around. The corner of her mouth curls into a half smile. Endearing. Puckish. This is the signature mark of Laino living the joy of her theories, and if you’re not ready to bear witness, you can just shove off.
“But ya know what? They are curious. I would bet you that 90 percent of the men in this bar right now—90 percent, maybe more—would put on a pair of panties if you asked them to. They’re just afraid to admit it. And that drives me crazy.” She completes the smile before taking a sip of her martini. Case closed.
Page 2, The Cosmology of Sex, continues...
