The allure of the cougar

I've always been fascinated by beautiful successful older women -- the air of power that surrounds them is alluring to say the least. Beyond the glamor and the high-flying lifestyle lies my main attraction -- something I call the "taboo" factor. The idea of wanting to be with a much older women generally defies social convention and generally elicits unsavory gossip. For that reason, I wouldn't necessarily flaunt an older woman but I wouldn't hide her either. That value of having something that I shouldn't have keeps me enthralled -- longer than I typically am with younger, more accessible girls. With older women, there's less bullshit and with all the experiences they've had, you never know what to expect. I guess this must be the same way girls feel when they transition from having fun with boys to getting serious with men. I've read about women hitting their sexual prime in their 30s so it's strange when older men chase after teenagers -- they'd probably say something about tighter pussy  but I have no idea what they're on about. For me, sex is primarily a mental stimulation so no matter how tight that pussy is, if I'm not captivated by the idea of being with a woman, I won't feel a thing and I'll be glad to simply get it over and done with. The idea of a prim-and-proper highly-sophisticated power-woman baring herself to me and letting me into her most intimate depths, the idea that she would let me give her pleasure, is right at the peak of sexual excitement and flattery for me right now. It might only be a phase in my life but for now, it's one of the few things I live for -- deep intellectual conversation followed by passionate sensual sex.

I met Zara in my freshman year in university. I had gone to the bank to get an account opened and there she was -- seated at a desk a short distance from the counter. She had a pretty little face adorned only by a little make-up and her black plastic rimmed glasses. Her little black jacket hugged her ample bust gently and there was just the tiniest hint of cleavage visible from beneath the white blouse she had worn underneath. I wasn't instantly under her spell but she was definitely easy on the eyes and I stole as many unnoticed glances as I could. I looked out for her every time I went to the bank and even got to speak to her a few times regarding my account balance. Things however only got interesting a few months later.

I worked part time as a developer within my university. Part of my work involved handling student records. At the time, Zara was doing a masters at the university and she had encountered some problems that required some database tinkering. So there she was, standing inside the office I shared with 4 other developers. I was dazed for a while but I did muster up the courage to eventually call her attention and introduce myself. It was a bit awkward telling her how I knew her from the bank and all but it didn't go down too badly. And finally I learnt her name. As soon as our little encounter was over, I decided to find out a little about her by visiting the student database and with a little effort, I found her phone number. I had no real intentions at the time. All I wanted to was send her a few anonymous text messages to see how she would react. After a few exchanges, she wanted to know who I was. I resisted as long as I could because of the circumstances of how our encounter had proceeded. However, almost effortlessly, she convinced me to come and see her and over the course of a few weeks, we became friends. We never officially set any boundaries as to where things were headed and her work routine didn't make things easy. She has a taxing 7-to-7 routine almost 7 days a week so the only time I got to see her was during work hours while I pretended to have problems with my account. The sexual tension was building inside me but there never seemed to be a right time to talk about it. She seemed a bit prudish but I knew that there had to be more to her. It seemed like her work was most important in her life and so we had quite a few disagreements and silent spells. At a point I decided to let go of the quasi-relationship that we had because it always felt like I wanted her more than she did me. I couldn't live with what appeared to be her indifference and I decided it would sleep better having taken a bow rather than having her dismiss me out-rightly.

Many quiet months passed and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was obsessed with her anymore. Then I decided to "keep in touch" -- you know just call to say hi. It was not long before the flames of passion were rekindled and with the distance between us, things were more fiery than ever -- the longing, the lust and the realization that we were much happier in each others' company  heightened the emotion and sensation of each conversation. More than ever, I wanted her sexually. I pictured our bodies rubbing against each other in passion while we cuddled, kissed, touched, and made love, all weekend long. We longed to see each other and when I finally got back into town, it was almost like a race to get each other naked.

 (To be continued)