Prime Time - Jane Fonda [71]
“How old were you then?”
“Sixty-five, I think. I knew I didn’t want any of the old stuff. Now I want somebody I can feel safe with. I want somebody I can talk with. So I called up my actor friend and I said, ‘Would you care to move to the flirting stage?’ and he—bless his soul—I mean, not a beat, he said, ‘I’ve only been waiting since 1982.’ Oh! So I thought that was pretty good. He is ten years younger than I am.”
I asked if this age difference made her self-conscious, but she waved off that suggestion, adding, “None of it is what I imagined at this age. Anyway, one weekend my actor friend and I both had to go out of town to meet with people we had worked with in the past and to see a play. He carried my suitcase to our hotel and one thing led to another, but since we did have to go to a meeting and then the theater that night, I had the foresight to set the alarm clock.” Suzanna paused, and a lovely sensuality softened her face. “This man was the most divine kisser in the world. He had the most perfect touch. He was—I was beside myself. I had the most ecstatic experience. And I don’t know how to say this, but he had the most wonderful, big, dry, warm hands. I have cold, clammy hands. I have little Waspy hands. There was something so utterly perfect. Anyway, at one point the alarm clock went off. He reached across me, turned the alarm around, and said, ‘No, Suzanna. Wouldn’t you like to come again? There is always time for that other.’ And he said it in a tone of voice that was just—it was just somehow—gruff—the voice came from such a deep place and, well, there are lovely things in life and, you know, there is always time for that other. And, I don’t know how to say it—there was something about it that was just …”
“Irresistible?”
“Irresistible, yes. And that he has this attitude about sex that is, to me, the most straightforward, the most—‘healthy’ sounds revolting, but—healthy, rational, kind, generous, good, whatever, that I have come across in any man. So, to me, there is this just amazing thing. And he does it often. There was a time when I had an urgent problem with my eye. I was scared. It was Sunday, but I called my doctor and made an appointment for the next morning at eight A.M. My lover walked out into the sunshine with me that Sunday afternoon and turned to me and said, ‘Well, that’s good. We have a plan. We’ll go home. I will run you a bath. You’ll feel better. I can lick you. You will be calm. No exertion on your part. You will sleep well. Then we will go to the doctor early in the morning.’ There is something about his attitude toward sex, to me, that is just amazing. That said, do we have problems? Big problems. We do. So that is the story behind how I am the poster child for testosterone, because I still have a libido at this point. Now, I don’t know if I will have it if I stop taking the pills, but at this point the habit is so ingrained that when I see my lover I know that should I wish it, good times will ensue. I don’t know whether it’s become a habit, Pavlov’s dog, or whether it is the testosterone that is keeping me libidinous. But who cares?”
I asked if they lived apart, and she was adamant on that point.
“I’m with clients all day in my practice on a very intense level, and apart from that I’m used to solitude. My default position is ‘How can I help? How can I be a good girl?’ You called it the ‘disease to please’ in your memoirs. So now, I need time to reintegrate, to come back into my skin so I won’t fall into those old patterns.” We gave each other a high five on that one.
“Meanwhile,” I said, “ you are in a satisfying, loving relationship, having good sex, and you are strong enough now to know what you want and need and what you don’t care for. And, through therapy and your daughter