"What do you mean, 'I'd probably qualify.' You mean to have sex with some stranger in your 'secret club?'" The sarcasm in my tone of voice was palpable.

My friend Megan Cook had just shocked and aroused me, but then openly talking about sex usually does that to me, and I'd probably just shocked her. I feigned shock, but secretly hoped she'd continue. I glanced around at the other outdoor tables at Starbucks, but no one else was paying any attention to us.

Megan was on the plus side of sixty, and I was only a couple of years away from that birthday. We neither looked nor felt like we were aging. We had been blessed with the kind of genetics that made us look at least twenty years younger, and at a quick glance on good days we looked thirty years younger. When I was out with my twenty-seven year old daughter, we were sometimes referred to as sisters, remarks that did wonders for my ego and self-image.

While our natural hair color would have been a start on salt and pepper, we had become dishwater blonds, a hair color that gave us a natural look and added to our youth. Our skin remained soft and unwrinkled, well, except for around my eyes a little. We were thin, exercised regularly, had curves in mostly the right places and then some, ate right, and if I say so myself looked sexy. Megan was a divorcee, and I was a widow.

I guess as a pair, we'd found the fountain of youth. Megan talked about how we were resilient, resourceful, and had a young attitude all the time. I knew I didn't think anything like what I thought I would at fifty-seven when I'd been much younger. I felt youthful and vigorous. I also felt horny, a condition I thought women over forty ceased to experience.

Megan explained about her Club in a lowered voice, "Well, it's not a secret organization, but we do try to keep our name out of the news, in part because there would be so many people who would want to join that don't qualify."

I gestured with my hand for her to say more. I'd started to smile at the idea of this special dating club of hers where sex had some kind of primary role.

Megan laughed and whispered, "We call it the OPALS Club, but for a long time we went without a name and we just referred to our group as The Club. OPALS stands for Older People Actively Loving Sex. Basically, it's an over fifty-five club of nice men and women like you who still feel sexually active and vital, and who want to meet similarly inclined people for discrete but satisfying sex. Oh, lots of other stuff happens too: kayak trips, theater nights, concert trips, and one group even flew out to Las Vegas for a long weekend. There's stuff like that going on all the time too."

I said to Megan in a hushed tone, "So my remark a few minutes ago about feeling horny most of the time qualified me?" I thought most of the world was horny all the time, so why would that alone qualify me for some exclusive club. Could you be sleeping and horny at the same time? Based on some of my dreams, I guessed the answer was a solid 'yes.'

Megan said, "Oh, no. While sex is one of the main focal points of the Club, there are a lot of other qualifications, and from what I know about you I think you'd be a welcome member."

Megan and I had met on the board of a local charitable organization when we put on a fund-raising gala. We liked each other, and developed a separate friendship that was now two years old. We'd become each other's best friends, but now I was learning about this unspoken side of her life.

"What are the other qualifications?" I asked with some degree of uncertainty about whether I wanted to belong to a club that focused mainly on sex. I briefly had visions of some large room full of couples fucking madly away beneath a sign that said 'Clubhouse.'

Megan said, "There are a lot of qualifications actually. I'll see what I can remember. You have to be handsome or pretty, at least in the eyes of most club members, and I think you're stunning; even at your age you still get guys in their twenties turning around to look at you.

"Oh, I do not!"

"Oh, yes you do. Let's put that to the test. Go over the corner and act as though you're waiting for someone to pick you up. I bet you'll get checked out at least once within a couple of minutes."

The corner was only twenty feet from our outside table at the coffee shop, so I rose and went to the corner to humor my friend. A block away, the traffic light turned green and the next group of cars started to roll past my corner on the way into the center of town. I adopted my best 'Where's my ride?' posture, and looked at the oncoming traffic but didn't turn around to look at Megan.

After the dozen or so cars passed, I shrugged, and walked back to the table. "See, no one stopped or gawked at me."

Megan waved her cell phone at me, "Oh, babe. You got that wrong. At least four men turned. One guy almost caused an accident looking back at your cute little ass. Here, watch the video I took of you."

I stared down at Megan's cell phone, and she kept saying, "See. There. There's another one. Look at him turn around; the guy in the red car had to jam on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of him. See, there's yet another."

"OK. OK. Sometimes people look at me, but that doesn't always happen."

Megan laughed and continued in a hushed voice, "Honey, I'll go clubbing with you any day, because maybe I'd get your left overs, and they'd still be hunky and spectacular in bed. You just gave all those guys driving by a momentary fantasy about fucking the daylights out of you."

I laughed, "Megan!" I blushed at her lewd comment. I did have to admit aloud, "Well, I might just be interested in having sex with the right person, but no one stopped."

"Oh, if you gave them the right look, they'd be licking your shoes."

"OK, let's move on, you made your point. So, what other criteria does this Club have?"

Megan said, "You have to be sponsored by someone -- that'd be me. You have to be trim and fit, and have a history of good health -- that's you; what do you do, spend an hour in the gym every day? We don't want anyone that's overweight, or anyone that's emaciated. At least this gives us a select group of people who are potential sexual partners with each other."

I idly commented on my health, "I do pay attention to what I eat and drink."

Megan added, "The Club requires a clean bill of health periodically -- no STDs, and preferably men have had vasectomies and women have had their tubes tied, even if you're past menopause; we don't want to hatch anything inadvertently. Those aren't hard requirements, but it's recommended. We also ask that if you have sex with anyone -- and they mean anyone -- outside the Club that you use a condom. So far, we haven't had one instance of an STD, and I know most of us don't use protection."

"So, I'd qualify. I had my tubes tied when my youngest daughter Darlene was born. Garth and I didn't want any more kids. As for STDs, I haven't slept with anyone since he died seven years ago. So, that's all?"

"I'm not done yet -- don't get impatient; I'm trying to remember them all. There are more criteria. You have to have your act together. No luggage or big psychological hang-ups, particularly where it comes to sex. You have to be relaxed about your sexuality, not that you'll do anything, but you won't get freaked out if some guy suggests a threesome or anal sex. You don't have to agree, but you just take it for granted that there are people that get off on things that you're not into."

"Also, you can't have a big ego or be a bitch, or have a temper that might spook someone. Guys don't want some woman to start stalking them or freaking out if they don't call, or vice versa. You've got to be fun to be with; a good conversationalist, and you don't try to dominate others, nor are you a submissive. You've got to always expect that your date will be with someone else the next night, and you might be too, so jealousy is a no-no. No possessiveness."

I nodded to encourage Megan to continue.

"Penny, you instantly like or even love people at first contact with them, I've watched you. You have a natural loving nature to everything you do ... unusual and a skill that few have. We search for them, not to have them necessarily start long-term relationships, but because these people interact so well together with others. These are also the kind of people we look for in the Club. Now, not everyone does this, but many of us do.

Megan thought a minute, "Oh, yes, more about the sexual stuff, but these really aren't written down, they're just sort of known about. You should still get aroused sexually in a number of different ways -- physically by stimulation to your various erogenous zones, or mentally with the right kind of suggestions or stories. You need to kiss well, although that's pretty subjective, and you should be orgasmic. You should like to cuddle, and that's tough for some of the men, but for the most part the Club has made good choices."

I laughed, "God, it's been over seven years since a man 'aroused' me, and, I'm embarrassed to admit that the few orgasms I've had have been with the help of a little battery-operated friend in my bedside table drawer. I think I'd be OK, but I might have to start all over again."

I had a further thought, "Megan, Garth and I had a pretty 'plain vanilla' sex life. We loved to have sex and I think we did it a lot more often than others. We both had a high sex drive, but we weren't kinky. We didn't involve others. We weren't into whips and chains. I didn't display myself to other people. I did a few blowjobs, but I doubt they were anything to write home about. We watched a few porn movies. I may not have the sexual credentials to keep up with your crowd."

"I know you, and you won't have a problem. You have a natural passion deep inside you, and it shows. As for the Big O's from your vibrator, I've found they're easier to achieve with someone the older I've gotten.