“Are you asking me out, as in a date?” I was acerbated. “Because I am older than your mother.”
I might have as well have said I had landed from the sun because no one can go there, unless they went there at night like Africans who will do that according to Robert Mugabe.
“You have nice face, and eyes,” he said, undeterred. By this I knew he meant my bust and boobs.
Up until then the word “cougar” had never featured anywhere in my lexicon. I felt it was demeaning, and I laughed at the term.
I am deep into my thirties, and I am not a bachelorette because I dot a gold ring on my index finger, and trust me I wear it proudly. Anyone would be very blind not to notice that what glitters on my ring finger is actually gold cuffs.
He was on the verge of a boy and man, obviously barely out of his teens owing to the freckles on his face and lack of beards. I doubted if he had any hairs down there.
I would be out of my darn mind to even think about it let alone date a younger man. Who doesn’t know that those boys just want to kill two birds with one stone – get to practice ‘bedminton’ with you while you foot the bills?
Aftermath? He leaves after he has had enough dough to marry a younger, tighter squeeze, more beautiful than he said you are when he wanted to dig gold from you. Old is gold, right?
It doesn’t matter to me that twenty- and thirty-something men can have sex more than I blink without tiring than forty-something men, with firmer erections and less erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation. Making a stud of the younger man to brag to his friends of his fragile ‘bullish’ sex is not my thing, and obviously not a choice.
My kid is in kindergarten, how in hell would I be paying the freckled-faced boy’s college fees? What would his parents do?
And just for the record, that money that I would be brandishing in the face of a boy who has never bought a Gillette is my husband’s. I watched him sacrifice more than he should have to make both ends meet, and when the ends met he made sure they stayed that way. I will not just be a bitch; I will be an ingrate, stupid bitch.
What really appeals the old married women to college kids who can barely rise to the occasion unless they are aided by testosterone boosters? BREAKING NEWS: Boys, Testosterone Boosters Cause Infertility.
The cougar life may be fulfilling, fun and exciting, and the cougar may even know the pitfalls and navigate through them, but a satisfying relationship with hubby can give much more sex than lusty, gold-digging, high school boys.