Jake:

“I’ve slept with my share.” Jake smiles. His work office is a quiet disaster of a room. We sit facing each other on a soft leather couch. Jake, like the hundreds of men before him, quickly warms to the interview process. He is just now pouring his soul out to me as he munches on cashews and swigs Diet Coke.

“I’ve been lucky enough to be in three relationships where the physical went into that magic area, where just the touching of skin, fingers, arms is electrifying.”

He holds the drink in his mouth, his cheeks puffing out chipmunk-like, then swallows.

“When you connect, when you know you are important to that woman, it makes you feel stronger than you are, sexier than you are, wittier than you are, you feel more competent than you are, you feel charismatic, you feel warm and you have a wet nose. You feel complete.” He takes another swig of his drink. “It is rare.”

Jake continues, “There was a woman once who made me feel that way, she was my first love.” He smiles and his eyes grow distant.

“I saw her again, many years later. There was a bittersweet moment when her son came toddling onto the porch. For a moment I looked at him and thought - you could have been mine. She and I remain friends, but it could have gone in a different direction. I regret the loss.

“There’s something almost spiritual about waking up next to the same person, about knowing another person’s body as intimately as you know your own.”

Jake continues, “Boring . . . maybe sometimes, but that’s where if you have a grain of imagination, you use it. Sexual satisfaction and imagination stem from the same organ, the brain. They were meant to be used together.

“Sure, there’s a high to one night stands - the ‘look at me, I’m such a wild guy routine’. But after a few of those if you’re really into sex, you’re going to want to explore it on all levels with someone who will share the adventure with you. I cut the exploration short with a few women in my life out of fear. This time I plan on going the whole way. It feels a hell of a lot better!”

He walks around his desk and sits next to me on the sofa, trying to draw me in to his words.

“I get so fired up, knowing what will and won’t excite her,” he says. “It’s great not to have to tell my partner what turns me on. When someone gets to know the rhythm of your body intimately, then they can play you . . . like a violin. Violin music is a lot better than just being plucked.”

I laugh-spit my water. It comes out my nose. Real classy.

I study Jake’s thinning hair and his chunky body; I think he is a sexy man. I hope some nice lady discovers him.

“It will be easy for a woman to keep me monogamous. She just has to love and enjoy me as much as I love and enjoy her. As long as she shows me that I’m what she wants and that she doesn’t want anyone else, I’ll always be there for her. If someone is truly into me, she won’t have to tell me. It’s just something I will know. If she isn’t, then don’t waste my time in bed.”

♥

More! More! More!

This is one you will find hard to put down and you never want it to end. Silkstone is able to converse with men in a non-threatening manner that makes them comfortable enough to reveal themselves to a complete stranger. Oh, and what revelations! This is the book you will want to share with your friends as it will make for very stimulating conversations. I laughed, cried, yelled at some of the not-so-enlightened interviewees but above all, learned a great deal about the mystery of the male mind. I recommend 527 Naked Men to everyone and hope for a sequel!

---Vanessa Leventhal

What are these creatures called men? Barbara Silkstone takes the reader on her journey to find a man who knows how to love. As I read her lively stories, I laughed, shed a few tears, and wanted to kill some of these men who don’t have a clue about women and love. The good, the bad, and the ugly revealed themselves to Silkstone in many surprising tales of vulnerability and gut honesty. The quotes alone are worth the price of the book, but it’s so much more than that. It’s also a bittersweet story of one woman’s search for love. Did she ever have it and where did it go?

--- Susan Branch