Cougar in the Hunt Part 2: Did You Really Say 21?

The following is Part 2 of Cougar In the Hunt
cougar, 21-year-old-male, lust, dating, infatuation, romantic encounter, middle aged female sexuality, romantic encounter
“At least a corner of one of his eyes would be fixed on every portion of my body as the minutes after midnight became hours”

By way of some mystery guy code, a fresh drink was placed on the table in front of me. Tin-Man and Mr. Man collectively offered to finance another margarita and simultaneously jumped up once they convinced me to accept. When confronted with the initial offer, my response was that I was driving, therefore I could not drink anymore. Mr. Man’s quick response offered a multitude of answers to my dilemma. He would drive me home; he would take me wherever I wanted to go; he would ensure that I made it home safe, and above all I was in his sober and capable hands. Finesse interjected a response to Mr. Man’s heroism by mentioning that we were invited to go to J&P’s for our usual after party. Mr. Man turned her way for the information and then turned his head back in an instant to fixate once again on my face. With soft questioning eyes, he said “If that is where you are going, then that is where I am going. I will go anywhere you are going. No matter where it is, if you will be there, I will be there.”

As Mr. Man made his declarations, including the promise to be my designated driver, Finesse giggled with hysterics at his direct, poignant, and bold pursuit of me. In this moment, she dubbed me a cougar and made wild cat noises while flapping her hand, like a paw, at me. As the tequila portion of my margarita singed my tongue in passing, I felt the soils of the cliff’s edge crumble beneath me, gravity pulling my body further down towards an unknown abyss. Even souzed, one of my closest friends noticed how enamored Mr. Man was, in my presence, clear as day, in the dark desert night. How could I deny this infatuation knocking my equilibrium off its axis?

To regain my balance, I responded by suggesting the four of us head over to J&P’s place in one car. Within the corners of my mind, I reasoned that Finesse and Tin-Man were at least one safety net in addition to all of our other friends. I felt the pulling motion of my entire person swept up into something that I was not given the time or opportunity to fully assess before being carried away by the whirlwind.

10881626_1381096982192956_237500888385919287_nFor the rest of the show, at least one of Mr. Man’s eyes would be fixed on every portion of my body, as the minutes after midnight became hours. The table the four of us shared was far from the dance floor, yet as Finesse and I were dancing, my body felt the undertow of Mr. Man’s eyes hinged on my every move. Not even the crowd, all around me, distilled his penetrating gaze. This could have caused an unsettling discomfort, in my chest, had it not been so honest and for all intent and purpose harmless. The band played their last songs, as Tin-Man and I finished our drinks clinking our glasses together between swigs.

female sexuality mid-life, lust, sex, attraction, cougar, 21-year-old, sexual choice, single,
“His eyes remained wide, like he was afraid I would disappear or get away if he blinked”

As Mr. Man and I continued to talk, while I drank, he kept a firm grasp on my every word as if every phrase was a life-preserver. His eyes remained wide, like he was afraid I would disappear or escape if he blinked.

As our conversation continued and his fascination grew, I noticed a deformity in his right hand. Instead of asking if he injured his hand or if the malady is birth defect, I found myself telling him every detail of my hand injury, as if I knew I would be fully understood. Despite how young he was, there was no doubt he related to my limitations and even proved himself an authority.

Camouflaged in his blanket jacket, he had half an arm with half a hand. The temptation to touch it overwhelmed my still hands, though I didn’t, since I did not care to patronize him or make any physical overtures he could interpret as sexual. The truth is, I find deformities fascinating. Anatomical differences, such as his, are like rare art, beautiful and intriguing, something unique, and sacred to behold. I am certain this is why I found him compelling despite his age.
affair, cougar, confusion, temptation, lust, attractionMy heart warmed from typical winter frigid to tepid, as I looked into his wide eyes and examined his disfigured body, while trying to be subtle and not seductive. In an effort to cool my warming heart, I continued to force logic and reality, into my mind, regarding his age.

I could feel so many of my firm beliefs erode, like the crumbling cliff below my unsteady and trembling feet. My enjoyment of Mr. Man, his countenance, and our conversation did not irritate me as it should have given that he was only 21. At this stage of my life, I find people in their early 20s, especially male, irritating. He neither annoyed or caused irritation.
As the alcohol seared my already spinning cerebellum, I tried to focus on the fact that he had only recently reached adulthood. In juxtaposition, with this brand new adult, was my adulthood spanning longer than his entire life. If this night had happened only four years earlier, he would not even be able to consent to the desires he was expressing with blunt and candid conviction. Looking at his driver’s license and learning that underage IDs are now vertical instead of horizontal, should have been a jolt more powerful than anything, but he did not take his eyes off me long enough for me to notice.
photo collage, cougar, lust, sex, affair, attraction, infatuation, fantasy

Blinding myself to the obvious fact that he appeared, dressed, and acted 21 was impossible. At the same time I never tried to justify my attraction to him with any absurd cliques like ‘mature for his age,’ or ‘he and I spiritually the same age.’ I could never live in the sort of denial that would enable me to lie to myself in this manner.

Nonetheless, I was caught off guard; In my world, I don’t enjoy keeping company with anyone younger than 40 other than family. Anyone in my life under 40 is either family, or the offspring of my peers. I could not  escape reality; this young man was young enough to be my son. My nephew, the closest person to a son of mine, was only two years younger. I could not imagine bringing any relationship with a 21-year-old to my family.

Even in an inebriated state, there was no denying these facts in my mind. My body, at this point, had no idea what would happen and the eruptive sensations yet to come.
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As a woman over 40, pushing 50, have created this blog for the purpose 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 2: Is This a Date?

The Following is the Part 2, continuing story of Temperance and the Devil

A wave of compassion washed over me every time Mr. Wonderful posted something on Facebook. For some reason, something deep inside me wanted to reach out to him with both arms. Then on a typical Sunday afternoon, a strange Facebook interaction with Mr. Wonderful happened and provided me more clues, though I admit I was still quite oblivious. Mr. Wonderful posted something odd and scary to me about being a libertarian. It did not sound characteristic of him. This gentle, soft-spoken, kind, mature, benevolent man could not have such misguided beliefs. He portrayed himself as kind man of heart and charity, so I was not willing to believe him associated with such a subversive political affiliation.

I posted in his comment section, asking if he was familiar with the libertarian party and their scary, survivalist, misguided activities. Within moments, he engaged me in a personal message chat, and thus I learned more about him. He was terrible at online chats, yet it was still clear that he really wanted me to understand him. He defended his position firmly, but at the same time tried to make light of it. It was clear my approval was precious to him. I had struck a curious cord. These factors were jumbled and unclear and his incompetency with Facebook chatting, not to mention my own, didn’t provide much clarity. This interaction was puzzling, momentarily, but I honestly did not give it too much thought.

California High Desert, music, dancing, roadtrip, dating
“It took everything in me to drive safely…..”

Several weeks later, our Grateful Dead revival band announced on their Facebook page that they would be doing a show at the Lander Brewery. I had never been to the Lander’s Brewery, so I yearned to be a part of this venue the moment I read the announcement. I was determined to attend this show, even though I reasoned that I would have many chances to see them play closer to home. My gas tank was too low to for the trip to Landers, so in a surge of creative thinking, I reached out on Facebook for a carpool. My zeal increased, as I imagined a fun road trip with new-found friends. In my Facebook post, I was specific with every detail that I wanted to split gas with as many folks as my car could fit. I included an offer to pick up anyone from the Yucca Mesa area on the way to the brewery.

Within mere seconds, of my carpool request post, Mr. Wonderful responded on Facebook chat. He made it clear that he would pick me up and drive me to the Brewery. This arrangement did not seem like the carpool I had requested, causing me to wonder if he was simply being a gentleman, or was he altering my situation into a date. I was only beginning to put the pieces together enough to wonder what this evening meant to Mr. Wonderful. Was our plan, restructured by him, considered a date, despite my specifics of carpooling and gas sharing? He was being a gentleman, but that was not the whole picture.

I would find out later that the house he had moved into, at Mr. Tree Man’s place, is actually on the way to the Landers Brewery. Instead of the logical plan of me picking him up, he drove all the way to my house, in the opposite direction, so that he could drive me to the show. This was a significant number of miles and gas consumed so that he could be in the driver’s seat.

In the midst of all these hazy reflections, I heard from yet another interested party, who wanted to come along as a carpool participant. Of course I welcomed her, knowing that I was bringing a date on the date Mr. Wonderful had orchestrated.  I phoned the interested third-party, Melanie, to invite her and it turned out that we had tons in common including history with my cousin. My adrenaline was high, as I dressed for the evening and put on my makeup. My anticipation traveled up to my head, causing me to feel dizzy and a little magical Hi-Desert, sunsets in the California Hi-Desert, attraction, dating, friends, music, dancingdisoriented. This same scenario had happened many time in years prior. A male friend of mine would assume that a friendship based outing to be a date with me. My change of venue, like including others, would cause an upset, often resulting in the male friend pouting in awkward disappointment on his part. If this were to happen with Mr. Wonderful, the entire evening would be uncomfortable and without an escape route.

Mr. Wonderful actually passed the test, with the highest score possible, adapting fully to my reversing his change of venue. He arrived at my house very late, as he had explained via Facebook chat that he had fallen asleep. I was seconds away from giving up on him. I had actually written him a note and left my back up cell phone for him to borrow. The note said that I couldn’t wait anymore, but I hoped he would go to the show anyhow. He pulled up just as I was about to leave.

He approached me, with his characteristic soft-spoken manner, apologizing profusely with a longing in his eyes for forgiveness. In haste, pressured by the fact that there was a third-party waiting for me and anxious to leave, I told him, with haptic eagerness,  about Melanie coming with us. He acted as a gentleman, pleased and willing to pick her up and have her join us. Counter to his plans, we went in my car with me at the wheel to make room for Melanie. Within minutes of driving away from my house, my entire body all but trembled with anticipation, as his longing for me was a strong force entering my soul like a silent whirlwind. Now that he was right next to me his feeling were crystal clear. He noticed my gas tank’s low level and with his characteristic soft-spoken gentle firmness,  suggested that we stop for gas on the way to the show.

It took everything in me to drive safely, and when I inquired by phone with Melanie, for directions to her house, I could not retain a single word. My tongue vibrated as it trembled to say to Mr. Wonderful that my short-term memory was suffering with age. As it happened, Mr. Wonderful retained all speakerphone information and guided the way as my attentive copilot. His credibility was growing.

stars, night sky in the mojave desert, California high desert, astronomy, California High Desert, romantic moment, attraction, star gazing
He placed his hand on my back, then moved in close and with his other hand, he pointed to the sky as he whispered into my ear the names of stars just above us.”

Mr. Wonderful impressed me, when he listened and retained the complicated directions to Melanie’s house. He knew the area better than me, though I was blown away by his ability, ten years older than me, to retain information dictated only once. I was filled with far too many adrenals. I was filled with nervous anticipation about how Mr. Wonderful would receive Melanie. My phone conversation with her provided a strong indication that she is a transgendered woman. He passed this test by treating her with the same chivalrous kindness as myself. His warmth was clear and present, which shot my adrenals and elevated my heart beat and body temperature. I am not sure how I was able to drive us safely. In short, I was really starting to like Mr. Wonderful and this was entirely unexpected and I was not prepared to process being courted in this manner.

When we arrived at Melanie’s house Mr. Wonderful gave her the front seat and sat in the back seat. He sat quiet as Melanie and I talked becoming closer acquainted. When I pulled up to the gas station, he proceeded to buy and pump the gas and would not let Melanie give him her committed contribution. He also said that he would drive us all back if she and I wanted to drink, and that all drinks were going to be at his expense. Given how he was treating my date Melanie, his approval rating reached a new height.

#photocollage #relationships #love #goodnightkiss #desertsky #high-desert
The wonder of this moment was too precious to squander while at the same time, my mind had much to process.

As we pulled into the brewery and I parked, it was one of the many times of the evening that is especially beautiful in the desert. The sun had sunk out of sight, yet still providing enough light to illuminate the Joshua Trees and the endless surrounding hillsides. The stars became visible one by one. Mr. Wonderful managed to steal a precious moment with me, and in doing so managed to take a gentle, but firm, grip on my heart. He put his hand on my back, then moved in close and with his other hand he pointed to the sky as he whispered into my ear the constellations just above us. My love for astronomy was touched like an angel’s sacred blessing. He had knowledge of something precious to me. Somehow he knew to share this part of himself with me in the most intimate way possible, with an amorous whisper, as if I was the only one in such a vast universe who mattered. This was the bridge in the gap of political and spiritual belief that, previous to this moment, our moment, that until this time had seemed too wide. astronomy, the night sky, stars, the universe

As we entered the unpretentious brewery, we were greeted by our pack, Tricia upfront, excited to see us and as it happened very excited to see myself and Mr. Wonderful together. All eyes were on us as, while both his eyes were on me.

In my mind I pondered my suspicion of Mr. Wonderful seeing this outing as a date. On this date, I did the driving and brought a date of my own. I felt lucky and confused at the same time and all my head could do was spin and my feet could not feel the solid ground down below. I followed Tricia into the bathroom, so that I could confer with her about what was happening.

“I am nervous, because I have a strong feeling that he sees this as a date. I wasn’t sure beforehand. I invited Melanie….I brought a date on our date!” I exclaimed.

Tricia looked me right in the eye and matter of fact replied “Yes, of course he does. He likes you. He thinks you are gorgeous.”


Temperance and the Devil Part 3 

As a woman over 40, pushing 50, have created this blog for the purpose 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.

Wisdom From the Galaxy podcasts pen! … soon as Desert Diva masters the technology…


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