The Cougar and the Bird***

I had a torrid love affair the other night. Torrid is probably the wrong word, as is affair, since it was actually very enjoyable, consensual and we are both single. I guess if I had to give it some sort of adjective, it would be somewhere between earth shattering and otherworldly, maybe? Surprising, definitely. Recurring, hopefully. I managed to get my sights set on a younger man. It seems to be the trend lately. I’m not sure if it is because I’m 40 and I refuse to grow up or if these young guys are just better and better looking by the day. Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m in a world of shit. And probably not in a bad way, from what I can tell.

So I met this local guy a while ago. We will call him Birdie. We’ve worked together in a small capacity. To keep his anonymity, I won’t really expand on that, since he may be reading this blog at this very moment…. (hey, Birdie, if you’re reading, stop now). So from day one, we’ve gotten along pretty well. He doesn’t seem as young as he is. It’s very easy to overlook the 12 year difference. If I was a senior in high school and he was finishing his kindergarten year, that would be different, but since we are way past that, I can easily overlook the numbers. He recently broke up because the woman he was with was trying to “keep him in a cage,” hence the name Birdie (yes, I think I’m really funny).

 Some people don’t realize that possession causes flight and freedom causes contentment, or at least that’s what I think. So he and I are having a conversation about his impending dying relationship. It was just a casual conversation. I don’t think there was even any overt flirting. I’m sure there was some underlying flirting, because apparently, I unknowingly flirt with everyone according to my ex. I call it friendliness, but apparently they are not two separate things.  Friendliness = Flirtiness. Lesson not learned.

To make a long story short, he did, in fact, suffer a break-up. It wasn’t a life shattering event as the relationship was still pretty new. So he didn’t really need any time to lick his wounds. We decided that we should hang out together…. naked. If I’m being honest, of course it was pre-planned. He thinks I’m sexy. I think he’s sexy. We are two single adults, we can pretty much do whatever we want. So he comes by (ten o clock man style) with a bottle of whiskey and a this face that I just wanted to bite a chunk out of like when people want to eat baby feet because they are so adorable. His face is baby feet. Adorable and edible. He comes in and, in my mind, I already had just pictured both of our clothes falling off and getting right to the good stuff. You know, the stuff erotica is made out of. But that didn’t happen. We sat on the couch and talked…. and talked….. and talked…. It was so relaxing and pressure-free. Not that I was planning on feeling pressure, but he was just nice to be around. I guess I had gotten used to being around men (well, one man in particular) who push my buttons intentionally and then try to make it seem like I’m the fucked up one when I get irritated or pissed off. This was complete opposite. I was just happy in the moment and having fun. It was like drinking with a friend. No pressure. No hidden agenda. No manipulation. Just carefree, in the moment, casual ease.

As we were sitting there talking, he kept inching closer to me. I’m not sure if it was intentional or we both just kept moving closer to one another, but eventually we were super close and kissing. Shit’s about to get deep here…. prepare yourself….

Award for best kisser…. yep, goes to Birdie. I kind of figured he’d be an alright kisser because he has super nice lips, but you just can’t ever tell if someone is going to meet you where you are with a kiss. Not everybody kisses the same. I feel like romantic introductions should always begin with a kiss, just so you’re not wasting your time if you aren’t orally compatible. So he passed the kiss test. If he hadn’t, I would have nixed the idea of sex all together. Thank goodness I didn’t have to, because from that point on, this young dude made a believer out of me. Over and over again. And when the moment was over, we weren’t high fiving or anything, even though it was totally high five worthy. I did take a super sweet picture that will pop up in my google photos when I die, and my kids will be like “who the fuck is that kissing my mom and why is she naked?” And then they will remember this blog if they ignored the asterisks and accidentally read it and they will be able to put two and two together that it is Birdie. Unless Birdie becomes more than a moment, and doesn’t require anonymity anymore,  in which case, one day I’ll crop out the naked parts and post the sweet parts, but I’m definitely getting way ahead of myself with that one. I’m just having a hard time getting over his sweet and funny demeanor. I totally know why his ex wanted to keep him in a cage. He’d be quite a catch even for a cougar….

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