Well, I’m really excited to have Stan onboard. A young male blogging on here should make for interesting – if sadly virtual – interaction.

As it happens, that interview story of his got me thinking all the way back to my first experience with a younger man. I mentioned in my own opening post that I have bad memories of bedding a seventeen year old when I was in my early twenties. I’m still shuddering. However, he wasn’t my first. In fact, my very, very first sexual encounter was with a younger man in college. I hardly qualified as puma then, let alone a cougar. But still, one doesn’t become the Cougar Queen overnight, and this is proof.

As the French exchange student, I had a reputation to live up to. But the truth is, I was sweet and innocent back then. This resulted in an uncanny role reversal: the younger one was initiating the older one. The boy would give me oral sex right on High School turf, during the bi-weekly theatre rehearsals, which went on for a good few months. The fact that I was white and he was black was just an extra kick, because this happened, of all places, in Arkansas. It was all deliciously dangerous. One of my classmates caught us walking out of our secret closet once, but to her credit, she never told anyone. If she had, I doubt I would have lived to tell this story.

Great memories.  No shuddering. Or maybe yes, actually, a slight shudder. But one of pleasure and longing… as I recall his dark, toned body and his educated tongue educating me.

I don’t really think of myself as someone who goes after older women. Though my introduction to the joys of adult loving happened via the older (much older!) stepsister of my best friend in high school, my romantic dalliances have usually been with girls around my own age. But…I don’t know….youth has it charms, but… youth is wasted on the young, you know? I want a certain lack of flightiness, a gravity, yes, a maturity in my relationships.

But still, I have not made it a point to date older women or anything, until…well, it was a job interview a couple of weeks ago. (more…)

Well hello Cubs, hello Cougars. I’ve just realised how long it’s been since I last wrote – I knew it had been a while – but not quite that much time!

Last time I wrote I was still in Laos, and after two months in Asian Cubland, adapting again to my life in London took some time. You’d have thought that coming home for a Brazilian Christmas Eve party would have been fun. Well it wasn’t. First of all, because their traditional Christmas food is cod, which didn’t cut it for me. But my main problem wasn’t the cod at the dinner table, it was more the lack thereof in the bedroom. Twenty-four year old Eduardo (if you remember him), despite professing that it was alright for me to hunt whilst on holiday, didn’t walk the walk. He was not OK with my Lao affair at all. (more…)