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The Morning Wood Johnson Foundation

crossposted at Snarky’s Machine

I’ve been woken up by the same clock radio for twenty-nine years, and for nearly as long I’ve tuned it to one of the local NPR stations. So it should come as no surprise that I end up attributing each sleep cycle’s last incidence of nocturnal penile tumescence with the seductive voices of Renee Montagne, Mara Liasson, Susan Stamberg, Cokie Roberts and the deliciously surnamed Jean Cochrane.

Voices do have the ability to turn me on, however. At least three times in my life I’ve fallen in love with someone before meeting but after hearing her voice on the phone. I can’t point to a single type of voice that does it for me, but I can say that it has to have a musical, laughing quality about it.

My partner is certainly a gifted storyteller, but I’m even more inclined to listen because of the playful sound of her voice, though I admit that occasionally my mind has been known to wander. I never get away with it, she can always tell when my appreciation for her narrative has descended to a more visceral level.

I’ve also been turned off by voices. More than once I’ve broken up with a woman I otherwise found highly attractive, largely because I didn’t like something about her voice. One’s was too squeaky, another had a habit of saying “uh huh” in a way I found intolerably low – which is odd, because I generally admire husky voices, which I think was the reason for my lifelong crush on Brenda Vaccaro.

One advantage to being turned on by the sound of a woman’s voice is that eavesdropping, while somewhat frowned upon, has nowhere near the stigma of staring, so I can enjoy listening to conversations overheard on public transportation practically guilt-free.

Luckily, I have a good long walk to the bus stop each morning.

This post was made possible by a generous grant from the Morning Wood Johnson Foundation, which conducts research on all facets of male reproductive health.

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