I am emphatically not a cougar! I do not pray on younger men. On the contrary, they tend to prey on me (some relentlessly. I suspect it has something to do with my rather robust bust .) Because this occurs so frequently, out of curiosity, I took 2 real age tests on OK Cupid. They revealed my real age to be 26 and 46, respectively. Older men have pursued younger women successfully since the stone age. It’s almost a right of passage…
Since I’ve been old enough to date, I have only dated men older than myself. My ex was 10 years my senior. Considering I was being pursued by men younger than myself anyway, I figured a change was in order. So I changed my profile preferences to read 18 years younger than me and two years older.
In so doing, I discovered an amazing perk to dating younger men which I never anticipated! They really like oral sex!!! Not only receiving it, (which is a no brainer) but giving it!! Who knew?? I’ve also discovered that they are considerably more invested in a woman’s pleasure than what I had grown accustomed to in the past.
I can only surmise that this is the direct result of (not only) the rampant nature of STDs, but also, feminism. God bless Gloria Steinam and Betty Friedan!
When I was dating in my youth, I’m embarrassed to say that I had little to no experience in this area. ..well not when it came to receiving anyway. The one time it came up for discussion was when I was in bed in college with another theatre major. I was quite naive when the subject came up for discussion. He cautioned me that it was commonly known, that if I didn’t mind kissing him after “attending to my nether regions” it stood as a certain indication that I was a closeted lesbian. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that!) However it confused the hell out of me!
I knew I wasn’t a lesbian. But I certainly didn’t want to send the message to a potential suitor that I was!
Much to my chagrin, although relative to my suspicions, this young man turned out to be gay. Duh! Once he came out of the closet, several months later, instead of negating what he had told me previously, I took his word as gospel! I figured that as a member of “the club”, maybe he knew something I didn’t??
Suffice it to say, I am not gay. However I can count on one hand the number of times I received oral sex prior to having dated a 34 year old virgin!
In essence we were both virgins just in different areas. Having discovered this magnificent treasure, I decided it was time to “unwrap the package” so to speak.
I YouTubed brazilian waxing to see what it was all about. The landing strip idea was pretty lame. My feeling is “Commit! Either do it, or don’t!”
So I called my favorite esthetician who works in the spa at a high end department store. We had become quite close and I figured there was no better person for the job. Great!
I looked forward to this appointment with fear and loathing. With that in mind, I called in advance to learn how I should prepare for what I presume will be a rather torturous ritual.
You know how sometimes you call a doctor’s office to try and get in for an appointment asap? And how some receptionists, take that as their cue to play doctor in determining the urgency of your symptoms? Well, that’s what I found when calling my esthetician, Patty. Evidently she was unavailable so the receptionist took it upon herself to tell me that I should trim the area to the size of a piece of rice. That seemed to defeat the purpose of getting waxed in my mind, but I assumed she knew what she was talking about and I followed blindly.
The day of my appointment arrives and I make the trek to the suburbs where I had grown up, to see my Patty. We chatted about her family and my love life. I absolutely adore this woman. We connected the first time we met. Which explains my willingness to drive 45 minutes to see her.
She quickly shaped my brows. It was time to remove my jeans (I was going commando) and prepare to be slathered in hot wax!! I was scared shitless! She assured me it would be over in a flash…
Then came the reveal!!
“Oh my god! Julie what have you done to yourself?” (Did I happen to mention she is from the middle east?)
“What do you mean? Oh! I knic
ked myself with the scissors. It was really difficult to trim everywhere. ”
“But why did you do this?”
“I called the front desk and they told me to. Why?”
“Oh sweetie. NO! The wax needs something to grab onto.”
I took this as my cue to make a quick exit.
“You’re kidding! Should we reschedule?” I wanted to bolt. But figured I made it this far. Just get out over with! Besides, I had to keep my eye on the prize. Oral sex on a spotless playing field! I stayed.
“No. We can make it work. It will be OK.”
The next thing I knew, she was telling me to relax and open my legs.
“Oh my god sweetie. How are you doing this? You’re so flexible!” ( I used to dance. )
I lay there with my legs in a butterfly position as she painted a strip of hot wax on my nether region.
“HOLY CRAP!” I shreiked! Little did i know, the hotwax is the easy part. She quickly put a strip of muslin over it and told me to be calm, as she ripped it off! “Aaaaahhh! Really Patty? Are we almost done?”
She inspected and said, “I think we can do this.” Little did I know…
She tried again but the wax wasn’t grabbing. So she called in reinforcements.
In walks this very tall, elegant woman with thick long, blonde hair. Her name was Susie. (Of course it was!) At first glance she liked like a snobby socialite from the area where I had grown up. But she couldn’t have been any sweeter or funnier!
We were introduced. It was so bizarre. I’m lying on my back, on a massage table, with my legs in an open butterfly positing with my peaches having turned bright red by now.
Like a general surveying the battlefield, she took a look and said, “let’s just see what we’ve got here… What happened? You’re becoming to red. We need to ice you down. I’ll be right back.”
She quickly returned with a baggie containing ice cubes. It felt good. Then we filled her in on why I trimmed in advance.
“Don’t worry sweetie. We can do this.”
By now, about 25 minutes have passed.
“I think we should use the hot sugar instead of wax… Boy are you ever flexible!” Lol.
We laughed. And she proceeded to slather me with hot sugar. My inclination at that point was to try and slam my legs shut. Patty told me not to and held one knee down.
“Jeez!!” Susie ripped off the muslin.
This is gonna take awhile because we need to cool you down. So we started to chit chat. Patty was on one side and Susie on the other. She asked what made me decide to get waxed and I told her I started dating again. I also mentioned my discovery about younger men and oral sex. I told her that I hadn’t had sex for 12 years.
“Oh honey! That’s terrible!”
“I know. Right?”
She said ” You have such a cute little coochie!”
“What??” This blew my mind. I hadn’t seen it in decades and I certainly had no frame of reference!
“You’re kidding. Right?” I had to wonder, can that really happen? I
“No. Trust me honey I’ve seen alot of them. Yours is cute. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen!” I couldn’t help but wonder if this was an apologetic ploy to compensate for the pain I was going thru. Then again, I’m not Georgia O’Keefe! I see the beauty in the way it works, but I think they all look rather nasty. Penises on the other hand are so straight forward. Ivadmit to being a fan. But I digress…
Patty started laughing and said, “It’s so little! I think maybe it began to disappear from having been neglected for so long!”
The three of us roared with laughter. I looked down and couldn’thelp but notice Patty on the inside of one knee and Susie the other. And as we broke into laughter, their bodies thrusted forward towards my vagina as though it was a coffee clutch with the girls. My open legs were the table and my vagina the centerpiece. It was hysterical. I can only imagine the raised eyebrows in the spa over the amount of noise we were making. But I couldn’t care less.
Talk about bonding! There was nothing sexual in it whatsoever from any of us. We were the 3 moms just taking care of business. Getting the job done, so to speak.
Well, it took an hour, but I left there bare as a prepubescent girl…and feeling quite raw.
Although I did have a much greater appreciation for how amazing my sex is. Truly. We were task oriented, supported one another and got the job done in the face of adversity. Ow!
I couldn’t wait to get home. I wished that I had worn panties that day. Cuz my jeans felt a bit rough. (Actually, I don’t know what I hate more. The word “panties” or wearing them.)
When I got home, I couldn’t help but take a look at my newly unwrapped package. I had to giggle. I hadn’t seen that area that bare since I was a girl. I was quite taken by the flashback of having been that young once.
I remembered something my mother used to say from time to time. “Sometimes you have to suffer to
be beautiful dear!”
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