WTFWJCVDD – Edition Nine

Predator vs. Prey

Not too long ago I went out to a bar with some friends. As the night went on, we all slowly went our separate way. By 1 am or so, it was just my friend Mitch and I. We had half a pitcher left, and were just hanging out appreciating the remainder of the night.

The interesting thing about this bar was that there seemed to be a lot of cougars running free. Like in the wild, they all traveled in packs and there always seemed to be one male amongst a clan of three or four women. It appeared that one of the women at the bar was with a man and her friends were tagging along. As far as I was concerned, this was the divorced, somewhat successful guy that didn’t mind these women exploiting him for free drinks. He was the work horse that ran the first three laps with the baton in a relay race and handed it off to me on the last lap to jog it in.

So as I was scanning the field observing, I caught eyes with a wild cougar. She smiled and I shot back a grin that let her know I had a thing for women that reminded me of my mother. I read an article once that said if you ever encounter a wild animal in the wilderness you don’t play games, you either make yourself appear to be as big as possible or you slowly back away. I felt like this was very applicable information given the circumstances. I decided not to play games and just went for it. I grabbed the pitcher of beer and Mitch and I walked right over to the table of predators with the intentions of making them my prey. We started talking to two pretty good-looking women that were both in their early 40′s.

The great thing about older women is that they don’t like to play games like the 17 year olds I’m used to. They have fucked around their whole lives and being single they’re not sure where their next feeding will come from. Also, a couple of twenty something year old dudes not only gives them a sense of nostalgia, but fulfills a fantasy that they all seem to have.

The conversation turned very sexual and very direct. I tried to convince one of the ladies that it would be a great bonding experience to have a foursome (I obviously wasn’t interested in Mitch, but wanted a piece of his lady friend as well). I told them that they got divorced because they were unhappy and while they might ultimately be looking to remarry, right now they should be focused on having fun. After all, opportunities might be everywhere, but if you don’t recognize them and go for it, you’ll miss out.

They were feeding off my words. Mitch wasn’t really doing much other than sitting there and smiling, which was fine because sometimes two salesmen can cause a problem. So finally, one of the women, Beth, mentions that she lives pretty close to the bar. I took the opportunity as it presented itself and suggested that we all go back to her place just to talk in a less noisy environment (I wasn’t interested in talking, but neither was she). She agrees, and Mitch and I follow behind them in my car.

We get there and I look around admiring the place. I think about the poor bastard that worked 80 hours a week to buy it. I turned to Beth to tell her she has a nice house and she grabs me and we start making out – she didn’t want to waste anytime. Mitch follows my lead and we were both making out with these two chicks on the couch. I pull back and suggest that we all head to the bedroom. Both women hesitate and I throw out the old, “come on, you have to be open-minded” line. They look at each other, grin, and say ok. Man was this easy. I am smooth.

We make our way to the bedroom. As we walk in, both women go in the bathroom while Mitch and I wait. The joy of Christmas morning kind of dissipates as you get older, but I realized then that it transforms into other moments – the excitement of this being an example. We were both pretty psyched for the events to come and there was something sweet about sharing two women like when you order a bunch of entrees at a restaurant and everyone gets to try some of everything.

Just then, Beth comes out of the bathroom wearing something difficult to describe, but slammin’ nonetheless. I tell her she looks hot, but we can save time and she can just get naked now. She tells me to be patient and then it happens. The other woman (I think her name was Casey) walks out of the bathroom and I shit you not, in her hand she was holding a double-sided dildo. For a moment, I think I saw a halo above it. My eyes lit up, like the bulbs on the carnival game High Striker, as I realize that I’ve hit the jackpot.

We watch as they gently rub lube all over it just building up the anticipation. Finally, Beth stands up and says, “Ok, go ahead.” I pause for a moment, and then walk over to her and get ready to help them get started with it. Beth hands the dildo to me and I felt like I was holding Excalibur’s sword. It was much heavier than it looked. I instruct them both to get on the bed. Beth smiles at me and says, “You first.”

“What do you mean me first?” I questioned. She replied, “You and Mitch use it first, then Casey and I will.”

Fear overwhelmed my body like a person locked inside of a confined room. My dick immediately retreated into an innie and I just then felt a common understanding with a turtles desire to protect itself. “No fucking way lady,” I said with conviction. “Keep that fucking thing away from me.”

Beth looks at me and says, “I thought you were gonna be open minded,” with a shit eating grin on her face. To which I replied, “I thought you weren’t gonna bring any weapons!” I throw my shirt on and shake Mitch out of his frozen paralysis and we get the funky shezite out of there.

On the drive home we didn’t say much. All I kept thinking was holy fuck! We were both in shock because we thought we were the ones in control of the situation. As it turned out, we had been played. I dropped Mitch off and said goodbye without looking him in the eye. I finally made it home, got into bed, and curled up in the fetal position. While trying to cry myself to sleep, I wondered who these sexual deviants were that thought I would be willing to consider doing something like that? I realized that while you can be direct with cougars and you don’t need to wine and dine them, they’ve pretty much done it all before and there is no innocence left. I made a promise from that moment on that if I went beaver hunting again for more mature women, I’d do a little more investigation then a 20 minute conversation at the bar. Either way, I still make noises when I fart from the friction so I consider this a successful lesson.

Until the next Kumate…

For your consideration:
Is therapy on a time frame crazy? A person delves into some of their deepest concerns just in time to be cut off ‘until next session’.