Recently, a reader on the Cougar Readers loop asked a question that got me thinking. She’s 10 years older than her spouse but he told her she couldn’t be a Cougar because she wasn’t rich. Which spawned the question, Are all Cougars rich? The short answer to this question is…nah! But the perhaps more accurate response is… it all depends on your perception. Because the Cougar is older, many times divorced or widowed, and generally a professional woman who’s been working for at least a couple of decades, she may own certain things that could be perceived as ‘riches’ to a young guy who’s just starting out in life.
Amenities such as a home, electronic toys, a nice car, and maybe a membership to a golf club could be perceived as wealth to a young guy who lives in a one room apartment, drives a dented truck, and whose only club membership is with Gold’s Gym.
Of course Hollywood skews the averages for the rest of us. The place is rife with wealthy Cougars. And obviously, a woman with tons of money can spend a lot of it doing what that bitch Mother Nature didn’t see fit to do for her. An unlined face, a slim belly and thighs, perky breasts…all of these things can be purchased if you have the money and the time to hide in your house while the tell-tale markings disappear.
Most of us don’t fit that category.
For those of us with only a normal amount of wealth. I’ll call us the Comfortable Cougars. We have to work a little harder for our perfection. And mostly we never really get there. But the good news is…when their libidos kick in, men barely notice what we look like anyway. It’s a physiological thing. Apparently the blood that races south affects their ability to see wrinkles, droops, and pudgy bits. #:0) Or maybe the male of the species, well known for his inability to multi-task, can only focus on 1 or 2 key areas of our anatomy at a time, and usually the hips, thighs, and belly don’t make first pick on the list of key areas.
Whatever it is, it’s just one more reason why men and women work well together despite the fact that our brains originated from different planets.
Hey, now that I think about it, maybe Mother Nature isn’t such a bitch after all!
Happy hunting ladies!
Attractive divorcee, Felicia Jeffries is turning 45 years old and her friends have dragged her to a male strip club to celebrate. She never guessed she’d find herself up on stage, dirty dancing with a sexy young dancer. Or that her body would scream for another chance to wrap itself around him.
Classy and shy, the last thing Felicia wants is to sit in a crowded bar with a bunch of drunk women, stuffing twenty dollar bills down the thongs of sexy young men on stage. The last thing she expects is to find herself incredibly drawn to one of those sexy young men. And the last thing she needs is to deal with the consequences.
But deal she will. Because the alternative is unthinkable...losing the heart and body of Bris Holcomb, uber-sexy exotic dancer, popular yoga instructor, and the man who’s grabbed her heart and won’t let go.
He settled Sis onto her bed with little apparent effort. Felicia slid her friend’s shoes off and covered her with the throw she kept on the bottom of her king-sized bed. When she turned away she was standing way too close to him. Mere inches. His breath bathed her face in sweet warmth.
He smelled like mint with an underlying scent of beer.
“Thank you so much for helping me get her home.” The words clenched in her throat and came out as a breathless whisper. She sounded like the worst kind of tease.
He reached toward her and slid an errant dark curl from her face. “It was my pleasure.”
Felicia sucked air and tried to take a step back, but Sis’ damn island-sized bed was in the way.
He moved an inch closer.
She could smell his heat, taste his scent. Her mouth watered.
“You’re a very beautiful woman.”
“I’m too old for you.”
He smiled. “Not a chance.”
Felicia stepped sideways . “You should leave now.”
His smile slid away. “You’re right. I absolutely should.” He lifted one hand in a wave and turned away, striding quickly from the room.
Felicia had a sudden, nearly irrepressible urge to go after him. In fact she took a step toward the door. But she stopped herself before she could start running.
Her body clenched with sudden need and she sat down hard on the edge of the bed. Her lungs were tight and she couldn’t breathe. Her palms were sweating. She hadn’t had this type of reaction to a guy for decades. Maybe never.
Felicia Jeffries, you are a shameless hussy!
Felicia grinned. She hadn’t heard her grandma’s voice in her head for years. Not since she’d stopped taking chances and risks and become the good little wife and mother.
It was kind of nice to have her back.