Cougar Town Express

As I am now  in my thirties, I can officially be classed as a cougar. These days we are constantly told that "age ain't nothing but a number" and that you can love whomever you want to as long as they are of a legal age. I have always gravitated towards older men myself but the stigma of an older woman dating a younger man is long gone and hot ladies (cougars, milfs) dating fit young men is pretty much seen as the norm. Now, I know as well as you do that I'm missing the "hot" part of being a cougar; and I've never been called a milf in my life! But I still had a crack at it! And as always it didn't quite work out for me....,.,

I was 29 talking to "K" who said he was 27. Ok, fair enough I thought. Get involved with some cougar action, why not? Things were going well, we arranged to meet. I was driving up to the designated meeting point and there is no way this boy is 27. He looked like his pictures sure enough and I get that some people just look young but nope. I wasn't buying it. But I was there so a quick drink couldn't hurt. He admitted to me he lied after I'd badgered him for an hour or so. He was actually 24. Just turned 24 literally a week ago. Ok, I could live with that. I wouldn't ever want to see him again; not because of the age gap, but because he was a filthy liar but for that night I could tolerate it. I drank more and more then realised I was tipsy and couldn't possibly drive. K asked me back to his and I went. In the taxi I was my usual drunk self of being ridiculously loud. K was fine with it until we reached his house. This house was seriously nice for a 24 year old! He must have a bob or two! That combined with the booze made his 24 year old self seem very attractive to me for a minute. But it was only for a minute as he uttered the words "Shh! You'll wake my Mum up!".... Yeah, that'll kill any grown woman's lady boner. I looked him square in the eyes and said "You're not 24 are you?" a rhetorical question. He looked down at the pavement and shook his head. 21. He was 21 years old. This had moved me out of the cougar zone and I felt uncomfortable. 21 crossed my age gap limit. But I still needed somewhere  to stay so I followed him inside, making it clear that I would sleep on the sofa. Alone.
Once in the house I desperately needed a wee so tip toed up the dark stairs to use the toilet. In my drunken haze I opened the wrong door, switched on the light and realised I was in K's room. As my eyes scanned the room I saw some helium birthday balloons; he'd said his birthday had been the week before. One of the balloons slowly spun with the draft of me opening the door- Happy 18th Birthday!
My blood ran cold. I quickly closed the door and found the toilet, locking myself inside. Oh my God! Oh my God! I was going to be put on a register! They'd make me move house as I lived near a school and I'd never be able to take my kids to the park again! I don't know how long I was in there - contemplating how I was going to avoid  being beaten up in prison for being a nonce -  when there was a knock at the door. A voice called out. Jesus Christ! It was the Mum. I was up and out of there. I waited a couple of roads over and called a taxi back to my car where I tried to sleep until the next morning, sobering up so I could drive home.
So my first cougar experience was awful. Really awful. I did learn from it however and now, whenever I'm on a date and I'm feeling suspicious, I ask for photo ID. Yeah, it might make me look crazy but if you look under 21 and there's no appropriate adult present... yeah, I'm not falling for that one again!
 But you know I'm a glutton for punishment! So of course I tried one more time..... "B" is actually from the same town as me so I need to be careful what I write, just in case anyone figures out who I'm talking about as I'm sure some people reading this do know him. B is younger than me. A fair bit younger. Not my usual type at all as he is light skinned, cocky, well known and some would say a bit of a thug! But the thing about B is his hair. He has BEAUTIFUL long hair that he wore in two French braids. And even though I'd sworn never to jump on the cougar town express again, his hair was my weakness!
I never dated B; it was purely a physical thing. The one thing I liked about being a cougar was that I was completely in control and things were always on my terms. It was a secret we kept- me because I was embarrassed about the age thing and him, I'm guessing, because it wouldn't have suited his road man image to let people know he was shagging an old pig!
I liked B but we weren't a good match. I was too old and too knowledgeable of what I liked sexually to deal with someone so much younger. The last time we saw each other was proof of this. Something about him made me feel very dominant towards him. I tried to ease him into it gently and he seemed up for it, excited to try something new to him. But unfortunately I got carried away and ruined it. What I meant to be a gentle tap around his baby faced cheek turned into a seriously hard bitch slap! He wasn't ready for that life and despite his tough man demeanour, looked like he was going to cry. As his erection decreased, my usual humiliation  increased.
After this I realised, I will never board the Cougar Town Express again! My ticket is definitely not valid and it's a long, shameful walk back when you miss your stop.