It’s Official: I’m a Panther (sort of)

That’s what my ex, who was a number of years younger than me, said when I jokingly asked him if I was a cougar. He said cougars are women in their 40’s, so you must be a panther. Or maybe he said jaguar. Who cares; all three are sleek, sexy, fast cats! I didn’t take it seriously anyway, since I don’t have a penchant for younger men. In fact, I’d prefer a peer, but as I get older, so many men my age remind me of … my grandfather. I don’t just mean looks, because I’m not what I once was either. I also mean attitude.

Anyway, awhile back, I attended (‘anonymous literary event.’) Currently single and always interested, I scanned the room for appropriate partners. There were a couple couples. A few men who were the wrong size or hair color. A woman dressed kind of like an older sexy librarian. A woman dressed kind of like a little girl. A young couple who seemed more interested in making out. A young loner. A cat. I sighed and turned my attention to the readings.

Most people read poetry. Good poetry, too. So I felt a little self-conscious when I read from my blog post Oh Dude! Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good story. But it’s humorous. Just a tad out of place amidst powerful writing about things like child abuse and existential angst. I noticed it didn’t inspire as many giggles as usual. But apparently it inspired something.

After the readings, I chatted a bit. Drank a little wine. Complimented a few people on their work. Petted the cat. As I was thanking our host and preparing to leave, the young loner was standing nearby. It would have felt rude to just ignore him, so I struck up a conversation. He asked for my card.

About a week later, I received an email: “Hi Lynda, we met at (‘anonymous literary event.’) I was the young buck in the leather jacket. How are you?” I was curious as to what he wanted. Writing tips? Friendship with a wise sophisticate? He couldn’t possibly be interested in me … sexually … could he? Well, my reading had been the story of a fantasy about a younger man. The irony was that it was completely fictitious.

I told him that I was busy finishing my semester, which was true. Another week went by. I submitted my grades.

Then another email: “Will you be in need of an alcoholic beverage in the near future? I go very well with a drink.” Clever. With classes done, I was feeling free. I responded the only way I could. “You’re so perceptive,” I wrote back with a smile.  There are worse ways to spend an afternoon than in flirtatious communion with a charming young man across a vodka martini (shaken, not stirred).

That night I was celebrating at a club with some friends when I received a text from Young Buck. Apparently he was also out drinking with comrades and his thoughts had returned to me.

May I be bold and ask to see you tonight?

     May I be bold and ask what your interest is?

You play coy very well, darling. Ok then, just some stimulating conversation, of course.

     Am I being coy? Or just waiting for you to play your hand?

Admit it, you like that I’m clawing at your door like a cat in heat.

     OMG, 0-75 in under a minute, Mr. Mustang.

Well, you’re the one driving the stick.

     So I gather you want to fuck an older woman?

(pause while considering how to answer this question)

Lynda, I don’t mean to cause you distress, nor to objectify you as an older woman. I am merely intrigued by your sensual nature. If our interaction leads to your bedroom…

     (silence, elevated heart rate, slightly heavy breathing)

…then I will fuck your brains out.    

OK.  Maybe we overdid the metaphors.  And maybe it would make a better story if I had agreed. But while Robin Thicke says you know you want it, Louis CK tells me I should hardly go out on a date with a man, let alone invite one over late at night when we’re both under the influence. Besides, I’m not what I once was, and I get tired.

Long story short, we did soon get together. I found out that he knows his way around a … room. Also that I’m not that tired. At the start I joked, “Hang on, I’m trying to think whether I have any lingerie that completely covers my body.” He stopped me, took my face in his hands and said, “You are a beautiful, sensual woman. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” That was a very freeing moment. (Men of all ages: Take note!)

I don’t like to kiss and tell. Well, only to my closest friends. And you’ll become one of them when I publish my memoir in progress. But here and now I’ll only say this. He was aggressive. Yet tender. And when I told one friend a particularly juicy detail, her response was, “OMG, he DOES know how to ____ _ _____!”  We also talked. Quite a bit. And laughed. Quite a lot.  Non, je ne regrette rien.

Interesting that sometime later, I woke from a dream to a very unusual occurrence. A poem in my head:

No!  Don’t send me a boy.
His skin is too fresh,
not seasoned.

My subconscious spoke. So while Young Buck remains a fond memory, I’m still looking for what I described in my story Jungle of the Heart: “…a man with gray in his beard who will look into my eyes and see worlds.”

Let me add, and one who has a little seasoning to him.

Sean Connery young and old

In Licking the Spoon, my book in progress on food, sex and relationship, I reveal what only an experienced woman can – the exciting features of men at different ages!

208 thoughts on “It’s Official: I’m a Panther (sort of)

  1. Hi, Lynda
    I love your ambition on loving younger men! It is always exciting to hear stories about older women and how their sexual lives are as adventurous as any young adult. People often focus on age too much than just living their best lives, and I really appreciate how at the end of the day you are being you! 🙂


  2. I was waiting for the part about “living together happily ever after”. That is always not the case but at the same time it may not be what both sides want or expect. Sometimes its all about the journey and I am glad you shared this with us. If anything, you’ve proven that age is just a number. What do you think about lioness? Thank you for sharing.


  3. OMG! The interacting conversation moved my heart rate to no end! It’s funny I read this post because we always call my mom a cougar. She on the verge of being 48 this weekend and we always joke with her about the younger males she likes.


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