I hope you're all primed and ready for today's post. If you've been following along at Lust Bites, you should be champing at the bit by today.
As long as there've been movies, there've been stories of older women and younger men. Who knows? Maybe even before movies!
'Say, Madeline Moore,' I can almost hear you remarking, 'I know about the cult classic Harold and Maude and everyone knows about Mrs. Robinson, but what's with The Rebound? Coming soon, oh impatient ones, to a theatre near you.
It is worthwhile to note that while all three of the movies pictured here feature the younger man/older woman scenario, not one is truly a cougar tale. By my reckoning, Maude is a free spirit and Mrs. Robinson and whatever the name of CZJ's character is, are a couple of MILFs. Definitions to follow but first a disclaimer: This post was originally intended to highlight my new Black Lace novel, Amanda's Young Men which is a true cougar tale, available in the UK now but not actually buyable in the US/CA until March 31, 2009. So...buy the book if you can, dear readers, and if you're aching for a taste of my story about a cougar and her boys, head over to my blog, http://moremadelinemoore.blogspot.com where I've posted a yummy tidbit featuring Amanda and her first conquest, the adorable Rupert.
I'm in love with my beautiful pictures of boys and I'm gonna use my space today to share them with you. Happy Independence Day to our American friends!
Naked Young Men Playing With Their Balls
My personal experience with boys is not extensive. I was afraid of them when I was younger than them and the same age as them and I remain afraid of them to this day. If you think I'm crazy, consider this - I briefly augmented my income with a stint as a school crossing guard. I dealt with packs of 'em and I feared for my life.
At fifteen, while living in Thailand, my first boyfriends were at least 21. Back in Canada, my first stateside paramour was nineteen to my sixteen, also Asian. As I recall, the four of them looked like this:
:
At the age of 27 I spent my first year in Toronto a free spirit. At that time I enjoyed a beautiful,eager, compliant boy, the perfect boy toy, but as he was 24 to my 27 I hardly think that counts.
Then I got married and after my divorce, hooked up with Felix Baron, the older man, which is a worthy subject for another day.
So, my definitions: Cougars have money as well as opportunity, and are stick thin. They run in packs. Their territory is upscale. They are tanned and wear a lot of jangly bracelets.
Consider the cautionary tale of a male friend of mine: He lost his heart to an older woman, accompanying her everywhere and sharing her bed. When she dumped he was devastated.
Happily, he had the good fortune to fall for one of her friends, which miraculously healed his pain.
And so on. It was only after the fact that he put the pieces together and realized he'd been used by a pack of cougars. His advice? 'Never trust a woman over forty in Doc Martens.' So, at least in Canada, a cougar will often be found wearing Doc Martins.
Now let us consider the MILF. She doesn't have to have a lot of money and doesn't travel in packs. What she does have lots of is time and opportunity and, probably, a rack. Because her territory is wider than that of the cougar she must be extra careful to stay on the right side of the law. I don't care how big his package is, Ma'am, he's got to be 'of age.' You know, like these guys:
When my children were both in school I returned to work. Curiosity got the best of me, so I asked one young man I'd come to know quite well, point blank, 'Am I a MILF?' The answer was 'Yes.' When I asked how so the reply was, 'All that messy eye makeup.' Score one for the working mom.
These days all I can brag about is having the ability to unnerve loutish young men (one at a time, please.) Recently one such animal hit the hood of my car as he passed and shot me a sneer. I granted him my very best, 'Come here baby and I'll make you a man,' bedroom eyes. His jaw dropped to his waistband. Score one for practice makes perfect.
Come to think of it, one day the leader of that horrible pack of roving fourteen year olds yelled (directly into my ear), as he rode his bicycle in the crosswalk, which you are not supposed to do, 'I'm in love with you, Crossing Guard Lady.'
How about you? Have any of my photo babes set your mind to musing? Or have you one of your own? Do tell.
As for me, though the pleasure of deflowering one Jonas 'I'm saving myself for marriage' Brother at a time would tickle my fancy, I admit, the one I'd want most,if I could jump into a time machine, would be Brad Pitt, although I'd make do with Clooney.
'What's the matter with this, Mad?' you ask:
To which I reply, 'Not a lot, to be sure. But what say you to this?'
