Cougar’s Little Secret
There’s a cougar I sometimes date who’d rather not have me clinging to her arm in public. We have awesome sex, and the time we spend together is always a blast. But she insists on keeping me hidden away.
Well, not quite:
She’s a fancy-schmansie high-powered exec, and although she’s made it clear that having me as her date is the last thing she needs professionally, she loves to have me present at work functions, galas, etc.—but at a distance, just close enough for us to occasionally make eye contact, brush past each other at the bar, and whisper hints of what we’re going to get up to in her extravagant hotel suite once all prying eyes are tucked away for the night.
She won’t even take me out publicly to dinner, but is happy to cook me up a storm in her modest mansion. Sleepovers are allowed, on the condition that I’m gone before sunrise. And she’ll insist on weekend getaways… buying me a seat on a separate flight.
It all plays out less like an affair than it does the covert shenanigans of a spy novel. The risk of getting caught is awfully fun, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t intensify our throbbing libidos.
Do I mind being kept a dirty little secret? Not in the least. Like I said, the sex! It’s biblical! And I just can’t keep away.
She introduces me to foodstuffs I otherwise wouldn’t have dreamed of.
I see places—cites, sights—that open my eyes to life.
And best of all, when I do finally get her alone, I have her full attention. I love how she takes a deep interest in my own doings. I love to hear her speak, opine, joke. I take her advice, I respect her mind.
I don’t feel as though I’m being used, either. She’s not the only cougar in town. But I choose to follow this secrecy rule because she’s worth it. She knows how to play this flirty game well, as well as she manoeuvres her career, and I feel proud to be on her team.
Besides, once you get a taste of caviar from the Caspian Sea…
Do the older women you date want a discreet relationship?