Peachy
03-20-2006, 09:52 PM
Cougar Story (http://www.nypost.com/entertainment/63354.htm)
Okay, I see it's wanting people to register to see the whole story . . . so here's the whole story: :)
"March 20, 2006 -- 'I'm a cougar hunter," says Daryl, 24, flirting with me over the phone, referring to the current euphemism - "cougar" - to describe a sexy, older babe who attracts and seeks out young bucks. "Are you a cougar?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Older women have had more experiences, whether they're professional, worldly, personal, sexual, whatever. There is just more to explore with an older woman, so many more doors to open. They're easy to please because all they are looking for is someone to make them feel good and give them amazing sex. I can do that. The cougar is on the prowl for the younger guy and the younger guy is into being taken. It's a win-win, follow me?"
Normally, I can't be baited into cross-generational dating. I like my men middle-aged. They're softer around the edges, which makes them cozier bedmates. They're not looking to be mothered and they care more about good conversation than whether I've been to Marquee. Sure, they've got their drawbacks - from child- support payments to high blood pressure. But I like that they've been around the block and know the same songs as me. Best of all, they're well-traveled in the nether regions of female anatomy.
But Daryl's pitch was persuasive - a confirmation of every trend story I've read recently. Like the "Desperate Housewives," we keep our bodies in kick-*** shape and our UV protected skin smooth and taut. When we walk into a room, we've got the confidence to own it. It's our triumph in the war of the sexes, revenge against all those skirt-chasing, fat-cat geezers (looking at you Ron Perelman) who tossed us aside for a more nubile model.
"I'm a cougar," I answered, proudly, and then, told Daryl I was also a mother, sensing it would further pique his interest.
"You're a cougar and a MILF! That's so hot."
"When are we getting together?" I asked, emboldened by my newly blazing status.
"I need to know what you look like first."
Wait. Did he just forget who was in control of whom?
I let it go. As a cougar, I was supposed to be aggressive, strong and single-minded in my pursuit, undeterred by petty challenges. I directed him to my Web site, plastered with photos of my rejuvenated mug (thank God for cosmetic dermatology). Once he uploaded, I expected him to salivate.
"There's no body shot. What if you're fat, or something?"
Suddenly, I realized I'd fallen into a mantrap, lured by flattery and the delusion that my maturity was a draw. Instead of him seeing me as a catch, I was an easy mark. He wanted to get lucky, which, in his mind, was a way of doing me a favor and also giving his own ego a bump. I wasn't calling the shots. The punk had been playing me all along.
"Women cruising for young guys don't realize how desperate they seem," counseled a single, male friend, a 45-year-old journalist. "Women think this cold-blooded, female sexual figure is liberating, but men see her as a pathetic ****. The cougar myth a profoundly anti-feminist phenomenon because it plays into the hands of men who want sex and will invariably devalue the woman involved because she's agreeing to this thing that's essentially a man's dream come true. To a guy, a cougar is really about having a good-looking sex toy with the least amount of effort possible."
"But isn't that what we want, too? A playmate with no expectations?" I said.
"If you did, you wouldn't have felt so manipulated by that young guy. No matter the age of the woman, she will get more emotionally involved than him because sex is still on a man's terms."
Words of wisdom that I knew were true but still, I wasn't about to give in. The next time I heard from Daryl - and I knew I would since he hadn't yet scored- I would tell him I was back to playing the field with 50-year-olds. The kid needed to know he'd missed his chance. This cougar is on the hunt for bigger game.
Elizabeth Hayt is the author of "I'm No Saint: A Nasty Little Memoir of Love and Leaving." Reach her at elizabeth.hayt@nypost.com"
Okay, I see it's wanting people to register to see the whole story . . . so here's the whole story: :)
"March 20, 2006 -- 'I'm a cougar hunter," says Daryl, 24, flirting with me over the phone, referring to the current euphemism - "cougar" - to describe a sexy, older babe who attracts and seeks out young bucks. "Are you a cougar?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Older women have had more experiences, whether they're professional, worldly, personal, sexual, whatever. There is just more to explore with an older woman, so many more doors to open. They're easy to please because all they are looking for is someone to make them feel good and give them amazing sex. I can do that. The cougar is on the prowl for the younger guy and the younger guy is into being taken. It's a win-win, follow me?"
Normally, I can't be baited into cross-generational dating. I like my men middle-aged. They're softer around the edges, which makes them cozier bedmates. They're not looking to be mothered and they care more about good conversation than whether I've been to Marquee. Sure, they've got their drawbacks - from child- support payments to high blood pressure. But I like that they've been around the block and know the same songs as me. Best of all, they're well-traveled in the nether regions of female anatomy.
But Daryl's pitch was persuasive - a confirmation of every trend story I've read recently. Like the "Desperate Housewives," we keep our bodies in kick-*** shape and our UV protected skin smooth and taut. When we walk into a room, we've got the confidence to own it. It's our triumph in the war of the sexes, revenge against all those skirt-chasing, fat-cat geezers (looking at you Ron Perelman) who tossed us aside for a more nubile model.
"I'm a cougar," I answered, proudly, and then, told Daryl I was also a mother, sensing it would further pique his interest.
"You're a cougar and a MILF! That's so hot."
"When are we getting together?" I asked, emboldened by my newly blazing status.
"I need to know what you look like first."
Wait. Did he just forget who was in control of whom?
I let it go. As a cougar, I was supposed to be aggressive, strong and single-minded in my pursuit, undeterred by petty challenges. I directed him to my Web site, plastered with photos of my rejuvenated mug (thank God for cosmetic dermatology). Once he uploaded, I expected him to salivate.
"There's no body shot. What if you're fat, or something?"
Suddenly, I realized I'd fallen into a mantrap, lured by flattery and the delusion that my maturity was a draw. Instead of him seeing me as a catch, I was an easy mark. He wanted to get lucky, which, in his mind, was a way of doing me a favor and also giving his own ego a bump. I wasn't calling the shots. The punk had been playing me all along.
"Women cruising for young guys don't realize how desperate they seem," counseled a single, male friend, a 45-year-old journalist. "Women think this cold-blooded, female sexual figure is liberating, but men see her as a pathetic ****. The cougar myth a profoundly anti-feminist phenomenon because it plays into the hands of men who want sex and will invariably devalue the woman involved because she's agreeing to this thing that's essentially a man's dream come true. To a guy, a cougar is really about having a good-looking sex toy with the least amount of effort possible."
"But isn't that what we want, too? A playmate with no expectations?" I said.
"If you did, you wouldn't have felt so manipulated by that young guy. No matter the age of the woman, she will get more emotionally involved than him because sex is still on a man's terms."
Words of wisdom that I knew were true but still, I wasn't about to give in. The next time I heard from Daryl - and I knew I would since he hadn't yet scored- I would tell him I was back to playing the field with 50-year-olds. The kid needed to know he'd missed his chance. This cougar is on the hunt for bigger game.
Elizabeth Hayt is the author of "I'm No Saint: A Nasty Little Memoir of Love and Leaving." Reach her at elizabeth.hayt@nypost.com"

