14 July 2006

Younger Men

I've mentioned a fascination with younger men before. Let's explore that, shall we?

When I say "younger," I mean in the vicinity of late 20's through, maybe, 37. I don't know why this is. I've always enjoyed younger men. As a matter of fact, of the four men
I've slept with, three have been younger than me...by 6 months, a couple of years and 21 years, in chronological order.

When I was 19 and working in a local fast food joint, I had a major thing for a 17 year-old
virgin (male) who worked there. Ahhh, the thought of molding raw material to my exact specifications! I should have gone for it...he would be a fabulous lover now. I hope he is anyway.

I've made note of the irony of breaking my recent sexual fast with a man, a 28 year-old man, in Barbados. I've mulled it over and pondered it. I have no answer, only observations. It's
ironic that 28 was the age at which I stopped sleeping with men. (If you are a psychologist and think you know why that is, please don't write to tell me? I need to figure it out for myself.)

Did I gravitate toward a man of that age because of some sort of arrested sexual development on my part? Because that's what appeals to me since that's where I left off? Because he reminded me of my father? (Icky!) Because he's the age of my son and his peers? (Even more icky!) Because my attitudes and passions, likes and dislikes are much more in tune with youth and its possibility and potential. I will always feel that way. I will always be somewhere between 28 and 35 at heart, regardless the age of my body.

(In answer to why I gravitated toward Sean...he was there; he was willing...no, eager; he was attractive in a jaundiced, drunken pothead sort of way. Okay, mostly the first two.)

Men my age are just not that attractive to me. Most of them are grossly out of shape (not that I'm a body builder myself but I'm physically fit, if not toned). Many of them carry ideas of women forged in pre-feminism days. I've struggled too hard to get in touch with my inner feminist to scamper back into the roles American society of the Fifties and Sixties desired of me.

Men are easy for me and younger men are easier still. I don't need to become emotionally involved with a man because, well, because that's not where my emotional attachments lie. So, a younger man is someone I could have sex with without needing to fall in love, yet I could indulge in some emotional connection from having raised the amazing young man who is my son. That's what I noticed with Sean when I was in Barbados. When we were in the sack, it was strictly a man and a woman who were immensely enjoying themselves and each other physically. But when we talked, I could advise and sypmathize. I could allow myself the pleasure of feeling a maternal sort of emotional connection without the hassle of needing to forge anything beyond my time on the island.

Was that selfish of me? Is it selfish of me to lust after younger men, or men at all? And I still consider myself a lesbian; that's what I feel I've always been. My primary emotional and affectional attachments have always been with girls and women, my peers, my age.

Not only did my trip to Paradise bring these thoughts to the surface. I was also influenced by a recent hit on my site meter that led me to We Love Muscle. I've never been a big fan of muscles and body building. Though I've long thought I had a good physique for weight training and body building, I prefer to be a little softer around the edges, I think. But I looked through this batch of buff and built men and, surprisingly, found several that I found interesting. Yep, these are the men I would sleep with, given the chance:

What do they all have in common? Strictly from appearances: strength, arrogance, cockiness
(some figuratively, some literally), attitude, petulance, rebellion.

Yep, the men pictured in this post are men I'd like to spend a night or weekend or week with (assuming they're single and available). Off and on with no strings attached (and always with a condom) over several years would be heavenly.

But this is what I want to spend a life with, build something with, sleep with every night, be helped by, give comfort to, love, be loved by and have wild, passionate, sweaty, abandoned, imaginative sex with on a very regular basis:

Okay, so I know it won't be Susan Sarandon but a woman can dream, can't she???...

Technorati tags: bitchy / lesbian / life / men / middle-age / muscle / sex / sexuality / sexual orientation / women


At July 16, 2006 3:36 PM, Blogger Bitch | Lab said...

oh god. if I had time. i love this post. when I was a kid, i read The World According to Garp. I totally loved the idea of becoming a career woman and, one day, just having myself an affiar or five with young men.

These days, I've considered writing about that old idea I'd once had, but the world has changed. When I was in the university, the problems were enormous, so taking a younger lover was just out of the question, no matter who it was.

In fact, sleeping with anyone at work was something I gave up on after my gf and I, who worked in my department, split. It was just not fun and full of all kinds of problems. Work and love didn't mix for me. maybe others.

More later, I've got a bunch to do and, speakng of amazing sons, mine is dealing with a car and a starter than blew on him. why the kidcoldn't have just gotten a reliable toyota corolla or something....

At July 16, 2006 5:00 PM, Blogger Cheryl said...

'bout time somebody commented on the eye candy. Damn shame this is all I'm interested in men for, huh? I feel like a reverse sexist.

So, is your amazing son fixing the car himself? Please don't tell me it's a '78 Trans Am or something equally challenged. Ahhh, kids. Gotta love 'em.


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