Cougar in the Hunt 3: Here’s to You Mrs. Robinson

animal medicine, animal spirit, the universe, companion animals, astronomy, stars, desert sky

Continuing story of Cougar in the Hunt 2: Did You Really Say 21?

Having a companion rabbit is a magic that creates an incredible life balance. My Galaxy leaves me wanting for very little. Galaxy’s unique wisdom of the universe and many ages past, provides remarkable insights that would otherwise be hard to realize.

Is the power of intense attraction a force of nature or a force to be reckoned with? As empowered, free, a liberated women, how do we balance personal discretion and our myriad of choices?

Appreciation from a suitor, especially with a broken heart, is intoxicating and for me this reach was far beyond addiction. It was a rip-current literally pulling my body further out to sea. Swimming against the power of this current, for the rest of the evening to follow, was exhausting.

As the experienced adult in the situation, I kept the door to physical and personal intimacy locked with a dead bolt. Throughout the night, Mr. Man tried any number of keys in the hopes that one would fit and he could finally unlock the barrier keeping him from having me. Unrealistic promises were spread out like a royal rug at my feet with him on his knees eager to kiss and caress them.

Had I been in my early 20s the night I met Mr. Man I would have been fully taken in by these overtures. Mr. Man was not taking me anywhere, since I knew better, at least not by these means.

signature Mrs. Robinson leg, cougar, 21, lust, attraction, affair, 40, sexuality after 50
….. the skin of the palm of his hand and his fingers wrapped around the skin of my knee……

He continued to verbally corner me with his desire to be physically closer to me by inquiry. The Tin-Man and Finesse were displaying their affections out in the open. Their public physical displays were not vulgar or offensive, just not within my personal comfort zone. The intensity of his eye contact was impossible to miss or escape, as it followed me with skill and precision.
The only time he took his penetrating green eyes off of me, was the moments when he was observing Tin-Man and Finesse across the coffee table. Clearly, Mr. Man looked to the Tin-Man actions for guidance.

“Why can’t we be like they are?” His voice reverberated eagerness, longing, hope, and least of all, a question  I didn’t know if he wanted to be in bed with me or wanted to put his hands on me to navigate a future encounter. The alcohol and the hour of the night continued to wear me down, not to his explicit desires, but to my ability to discourage him or divert the conversation. All I could say was a few broken words that I know I could have articulated better.
“They have known each other for years. You and I just met” There was no way he could dispute my logic, though he would negotiate with a solid strong will.
Determined to negotiate my terms he began, “We are-” Sharply cutting him off I said, “…talking, just as we ought to be. There is nothing wrong with that.” He had already characterized himself and me as “we.” 

For all his bold and explicit verbal expressions, he did not make a single physical advance, covertly or otherwise. He didn’t manipulate me or anyone else in an effort to trap me into being alone with him. All advances were verbal and while he was manipulative with words, the only physical overture was sitting shoulder to shoulder with me.  

affair, cougar, 21, transition, reflection, regret, denial, infatuation, conquest, lust
Somehow, if he could captivate me in the dark of the predawn maybe the sun wouldn’t take me away from him.

Earlier that evening, I made it clear to him that I did not like cigarette smoke. He had said he would throw his entire pack out for me, though I did not believe him. He got up from the couch, where we were sitting together and excused himself to go outside and smoke. Of course I let my disdain show, so he repeated his willingness to throw out the pack, but this time with a condition, “What am going to get?” as if my body was the bargaining chip for his ability to save his own life. I couldn’t dignify this with an answer not just because it was absurd, but also because I wasn’t prepared to even consider all that he wanted. His direct communication was beginning to get obtrusive and I was feeling the pressure.

When he returned, the smell made it hard for me to breathe given that he reclaimed his position, right next to me our shoulder touching. I got up to plug-in my phone that was running low on battery and showed him more photos. The air coming in from the wide open door of the J&P’s studio distilled the nicotine smell that was making it difficult to breathe so my affair, cougar, confusion, temptation, lust, attractioninhibitions were relaxed and relatively balanced. For some reason I was opening my personal life to him by showing him family photos including baby pictures. I opened Facebook infant photos most of which included my eldest sister, at six, followed by a current photo of her. I took the built-in opportunity to point out the contrast between my nearly identical mother and sister due to my mother’s chain-smoking. He was touched by the photos of me as an infant and the sight of my artwork photos raised the level of his infatuation.

At some point we went outside for fresh air where we continued to talked as I coughed.

“You don’t have to cough. You don’t like it, I get it.”

“It isn’t that. I grew up with a chain smoker who never opened windows, so I have chronic health issue and sensitivity. Even the resin on walls or clothes makes it hard to breath.” I went on to intimate to him that I watched my mother cough up chunks of green mucus at least once a day. His face was pensive and tried to express as much empathy as his lack of experience could accommodate. He also looked suspicious that I was trying to manipulate him, weakening his resolve to claim my body in exchange for nicotine abstinence. When I told him I was getting chilly he followed me back inside and we took our place on the couch.

With the prospect of morning drawing near he widened his tired eyes and adjusted his position to deepen his contact with my eyes, as if he could magically be permitted to touch me by hypnosis. His green eyes scanned my face as if they could capture me and carry me away. Somehow, if he could captivate me in the dark of the predawn maybe the sun wouldn’t take me away from him.
Eyes penetrating me he persisted, “So? What are we doing?”

“We are talking,” I replied with an authority that sounded weaker in my fatigue.

“You know what I mean?” He said with a frustrated tone that he tried to soften with a growling whisper. My only ally was the strength of my adrenalin.

“At this stage in my life,” I said, trying to remind him of my advanced age, “I can’t afford to be impetuous,” He asked me to define impetuous, as if this was the golden key that would let him enter. I explained the word impetuous and he needed more so I said “Being impetuous is my nature, but I have learned to control it and use discretion.” He repeated my words back to himself as if he needed greater clarity. I knew I needed to tell him there was no way anything would happen, but my impetuous-attention-craving early 20s were creeping back in such a subtle manner, that I didn’t notice. Part of me enjoyed the attention that was constant when I was in my early 20s and the other part of me was exhausted. The other part of me might have felt it was far too obtrusive, but there was no question I had the upper hand and he was enslaved to his desires for me. He wasn’t satisfied, so he pretended to need more explanation and I knew he was young, yes, stupid no. I tried a subtle diversion tactic. Again calling attention to the severe gap in our stages of life. “When I was 19, 20, and 21 I was wild…” I was cut off by his face lighting up, like a second wind, so I hastened my tone. “…I was reckless and very impetuous. I only got away with it because I was so young; I would never live through the things that I did then at this stage in my life.” He turned forward, reflectively, though not willing to concede. I continued “I believe, rather I know that there are special angels that work overtime for young people since they don’t know better.” He was impressed with my thoughtful expression and ability to articulate and while fully attentive to everything I was saying, he was not distracted from his acquisition.

As our gathering neared 4am, I asked him if he was tired, suggesting it was time to leave. I warned Mr. Man that Finesse would be slow-moving getting to the car. While we got ready to leave J&P’s after party, something happened, shattering the only resolve I had been clinging to the entire evening. Regardless of how flattering the overt attention felt, I had to be equally resigned to the reality that he was only 21.

affair, obsession, infatuation, regret, mistakes, infatuation

As Mr. Man rose from being sunk down into the couch with me all of my resolve was shattered in an instant.

Once he was sitting fully upright, the palm of  Mr. Man’s calloused hand landed on my knee. The skin of his palm touched my knee cap and each finger fell and wrapped around my knee. As his skin touch mine and a I felt the his grip an ignited desire traveled through my leg and to my pelvis. With his touch, I felt my stomach tighten reaching up to grip my chest as my entire leg trembled, though motionless, steadied under the weight of his grip. Clearly, it was unintentional, given that the entire evening he had not tried, even covertly, to force physical contact with me. While his forceful words were an overt expression of want of physical contact with me, this was the only time he actually put a hand on me. In this moment, the whole situation shifted from a clear logical decision to do what is right to complicated and compelling temptation. There was no denying that his hand on me caused me to feel strong sensations and the situation would no longer be a simple discretion. As of that moment, the struggle between the wisdom of my mind and the desires of my body would begin.

cougar, abstract photo collage, Mrs. Robinson leg, lust , infatuation, sex, affair, 21, older woman, menopause
As the desert sky turn the room dark, he stared down at me, silently…

Cougar in The Hunt Part 4: Here’s to You Mrs. Robinson 


As a woman over 40, pushing 50, I have created this blog for the purposed of using my writing skills to create something especially meaningful to women. The best show of appreciation, since this blog is brand new, is feedback, sharing my site with others, and a donation of any amount in that order. Even a small donation, will go a long way to support my gourmet coffee habit.

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Temperance and The Devil Part 3: Dancing in His Eyes

“She looked me right in the eye and matter of fact thick Guatemalan accent replied “Yes, of course he does, he likes you, he thinks you are gorgeous…..”

Below is the continuing story of Temperance and the Devil Part 2

Tricia swung the door open amid this cliffhanger and I begged for more information. As it happened, Tricia had moved our friends to the other side of the bar to leave the two of us alone, while still maintaining a clear view of the drama unfolding between myself and Mr. Wonderful. Love was in the air and it was hijacking my soul.

Joshua trees, desert sky, mojave desert, landers breweryMy heart had become its own planet spinning on its axis too fast for me to feel the floor beneath me. I still don’t know how I kept my balance, especially to the point of dancing the night away with the girls, as Mr. Wonderful watched. This was the first time, since moving back to Southern California that advances towards me made me feel good as opposed to nauseous. There was a strong sensation in my stomach under the weight of my heart, twirling on its axis and beating at the same time. I was overwhelmed and my head spun in the opposite direction of my heart, trying to process everything.

My heart, dormant for nearly twenty years, saw all the warning signs, every red flag was waving and expanding in the desert winds. I made futile attempts to protect myself and built a strong fortress around my heart, yet the power poised to carry my heart away was stronger force than even the hi-desert winds.

As I danced with my girls he leaned against a pillar, watching the band or so I thought. Patricia insisted that he did not take his eyes off me and that she had never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at me. As he looked into my eyes, his eyes danced bright and clear, just as my body had been dancing on the hardwood floor most of the night.

Knowing he saw this outing as a date, I attempted to get to know him while letting him pursue me. I told him I was under the influence of aliens, not just the drinks he bought for me. love, romance, attraction, encounter, date, music, dancing, brewery, night sky, stars, friendship

I notice a young woman with her jacket tied to her waist. There was a bright yellow design on the jacket appearing on her behind. I mentioned the apparition to Mr.Wonderful and insisted that he look at her back side. He refused, as he kept full eye contact with me. I persisted until he said, “I am here with you, I am not going to look at another woman.” His words seared into my heart like a flame igniting a rapid pace and blood flow that surged through my entire body. Despite this magical sensation in my heart, I was determined not to get swept away and over the cliff on which I was dancing .
I took “selfies” and sent them to Finesse, since she couldn’t be there with all of us. I took a photo of me and Mr. Wonderful. The expression on his face, the childlike hope on Christmas morning, spoke volumes. I kicked off one of my Birkenstocks to show him wrinkles of age on my feet. Without acknowledging my aging foot, he stroked the back of my calf while smiling at me. Galaxy wasn’t on my lap so there could be no wondering if Mr. Wonderful was touching me by accident and he had not consumed any alcohol. The veil was lifted and my heart was coming to life after years of dormancy. This was one of the moments when my heart and my mind were in unison.
The band continued to play, I continued to dance, and Mr. Wonderful continued to watch my every move. I sat with him while resting from my dance floor exploits. As I danced with the girls, knowing Mr. Wonderful was watching I overtly fought off drunken young men hitting on me, as a consideration to Mr. Wonderful courting me in this unanticipated date. This was not my usual carefree style..
My surrender to Mr. Wonderful was also clear when I was outside with Melanie, while he was still inside. We have a rock band in our circles all of whom love Galaxy.  The rock video for the memorial day concert included video footage of Galaxy. One of the guitar players from this rock band approached me. I have always had a weakness for rock guitar guys and I admired him for his energetic performances that defied his age of nearly 60. Not only do I enjoy watching him on him on stage, I also like talking with him. He is one of Galaxy’s many fans. He asked me where Galaxy was and I responded by saying he was at home because I was afraid the band might be too loud. I felt the force of Mr. Wonderful, as I talked to this Sexy-Galaxy-Loving-Guitar-Player, as if the desert wind was actually pulling me back to him. Indeed I was on a date, given my feelings of loyalty were already developing.
I actually was missing Galaxy, though the wisdom of my remarkable bunny was ever-present and real. Thoughts about the warm look in Mr. Wonderful’s eyes as I showed him all the photos of Galaxy; how he petted him just an hour later at the same event; how at Jason’s birthday party he stroked my arm while petting Galaxy, possibly not by accident; How Galaxy stretched his neck out to Mr. Wonderful’s lap and bonked him with his nose and made kind gestures towards him as only a bunny can. Mr. Wonderful met with Galaxy’s approval and here he was proclaiming to be there with me, making it clear that his eyes were looking at me and no one else.
During the evening Mr. Wonderful went outside only once. The bass player’s wife, as part of our female bonding girl fun, motioned to me that Mr. Wonderful was outside smoking. Without speaking a word we went into the doorway, arm and arm, to give Mr. Wonderful a look. He headed back inside, as if called to duty, and swiped my nose with the tip of his index finger. I was in trouble, in deed, and everyone knew it.
I was dancing not only in his eager blue eyes, but I was also dancing into love. Every pirouette, every gyrations of my hips, every movement of chest played like a movie in his eyes, blinded to anything or anyone else in view. As I moved to the sensual quality of the music, every one of my heart beats created a vibration in my breasts that radiated throughout my body. I could feel his heart beating from across the room, in sync with my every move with a force of every star in the Galaxy.
I had not felt so much love, in so long. His intoxicating stares trumped any alcohol left in my system. My heart and mind were in a battle confronting my fears. He had moved back to Joshua Tree so recently and had only left for Lake Elsewhere for a relationship that he was clearly still grieving. Where did I fit into this equation and would I be left in the cold?
After the band played their last song, last call drinks reaching the bottom of clinking glasses, and the salutations of bar guests of all kinds taking place throughout the room, Melanie sat down in “her chair” beside me, opposite Mr. Wonderful. Our landing party had come full circle, I felt pride and warm feelings having both of my dates, once again, on either side of me. The three of us collectively decided that we were ready go home and Melanie offered to drive. Knowing she wanted to contribute something, I handed her the keys that Mr. Wonderful had playfully grabbed from me the entire evening. Again, Mr. Wonderful took a backseat to our newfound sisterhood. Just as he had done on the way to the brewery, Mr. Wonderful stayed quiet while Melanie and I talked.

Joshua Tree, night sky, music friends, dance, romantic encounter, Landers, California Hi-Desert
Original photo by Candice Silsby

We pulled up to Melanie’s house and as the gentleman he was, Mr. Wonderful got out of the car to say goodbye and tell her he enjoyed meeting her, as he hugged her. I didn’t think my heart would melt anymore to his kindness and yet it was warm and soft as I watched his arms wrapped around her illuminated by the light of the moon on her bare alabaster arm. When Mr. Wonderful returned to the car, he sat in the passenger’s seat. At the moment, I had no idea just what that action meant. I was clueless to the potential disaster that might have occurred as a result of my handing him my keys, while insisting that he had promised to drive us home. Clearly taking my keys and putting himself in the driver’s seat meant that he was more swept away by what I wanted, then my welfare or his. At the time I had no clue, all I knew was that I was scared of what was happening and no lack of alcohol could have made it safe for me to drive.
Even though I did not bring my beloved Galaxy to the brewery in Landers, the universe and the night sky were a strong force, setting the stage for the unmistakable connection Mr. Wonderful and I were feeling and silently expressing. Our actions were subtle, but the emotions were intense as the universe itself. Had I not been aware of the laws of physics, I may have thought that the blue-black of the sky, illuminating by the stars, a sacred atmosphere created just for us.
As he drove us off of the dirt road where Melanie lived I did not speak that much and decided to reveal that I was capable of silence. More than anything I was in deep thought about what had happened, while anticipating what I knew was happening and above all what would happen upon our arrival to my house. I thought about the good night kiss that was inevitable as I struggle to steady my trembling body.

Temperance and the Devil Part 4

As a woman over 40, pushing 50, have created this blog for the purposed of using my writing skills to create something especially meaningful to women. The best show of appreciation, since this blog is brand new, is feedback, sharing my site with others, and a donation of any amount in that order. Even a small donation, will go a long way to support my gourmet coffee habit.

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