‘Age before beauty’, ‘youth is wasted on the young’, ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’, ‘youth’s a stuff will not endure’… etc. Is there no end to the number of things people have to say about youth and age.
Following last week’s musings I am looking at whether it’s better to wind up with an older or younger lover.
The only problem here is that ‘older’ or ‘younger’ is a rather moveable feast as I am becoming rather older myself. In my mid-twenties I had a drunken interlude with a man of 45 which at the time felt like being with a much older man. Whereas now, I would think 45 was not that old, really. I also remember at a similar age (I must have been hot stuff at this point in my life – pity I squandered it) rejecting the advances of an 18-year-old, telling him he was just too young. I would be lucky at my current age for someone of 30 to approach me and besides, I am just not attractive /youthful enough to be a MILF.
So, all I can do is take a not-too-serious look at older and younger men, drawn from my experiences and if I over-generalise, tough – it saves me sending out a questionnaire.
Younger guys obviously have the advantage of bouncy, springy bodies, faster metabolisms and natural muscle tone. But occasionally their hormones are all over the place which means they can still get the odd zit. They probably keep up with the latest fashions, but their lack of financial planning often means they don’t have enough to buy decent undies – I remember an ex who had tatty old pants which were just gusset hanging off an elastic waistband.
Older guys usually know what suits them, so are less likely to commit clothing crimes, unless they are trying too hard to look hip and ‘down with the kids’ by wearing jeans halfway down their posteriors. A few bits of grey hair can also give a man an edge of distinction. Laughter lines also look good on men, but sadly make women look rather tired.
Conclusion: Close draw – I don’t dress for fashion, just choose the bits I like, so would feel self-conscious around an ultra-trendy young guy. But I would enjoy his firm butt.
Idea of a good time
I have never been drawn to any man for his wallet so will take older guy’s spending power out of the equation, even if it does mean a night away in a posh hotel.
Young guy could probably take me to a gig of a band I have never heard of or out to a night club where I would not be able to hear a word he said. He would also talk to me in ‘youff’ vernacular which I wouldn’t understand.
Older guy could regale me with anecdotes about his adventures and references to TV shows which were before my time. I wouldn’t object to the occasional trip to the garden centre or tour of a stately home, but if this were every week, I would vault over the nearest fence and make my escape.
Conclusion: Even Stevens.
The young guy would obviously have fantastic stamina and be able to go numerous rounds, if he could re-assemble his soldiers quickly after each battle. Or he may explode and shoot his load within 30 seconds of entry, if it all gets a bit too much for him. The other down side could be his fumbling attempts at foreplay. My experiences suggest he would make a rough attempt at locating my ‘bean’, abandon it after a few seconds then push my head onto his member, swiftly shove himself inside me and go at it like a pneumatic drill until he has satisfied himself. I did warn you there would be generalisations here!
Older guy on the other hand may have problems mobilising his army who are liable to sit around smoking or drinking tea. However, assuming this isn’t a problem and that I have the fortune to be with an experienced older guy (as, dear reader, age doesn’t necessarily mean experience), he will have an impressive foreplay repertoire. The older guys I have encountered also tend to be rather less selfish about ensuring we both enjoy our roll in the hay.
Conclusion: Older guy by a silver whisker, but there are exceptions to every rule and I recall an amazing session with an athletic youth who had a natural aptitude for good, unselfish bonking. I also know he married a woman eight years his senior (lucky bitch).
So, there it is, a non-scientific comparison with no overall conclusion. Age is just a number and if you have the thing/mojo/chemistry/je ne sais quoi it doesn’t matter if you’re 22 or 62 – I won’t discriminate.
Read more on my blog – drunkenslutmum.co.uk