The Boy & The Cougar
The morning I fulfilled a fantasy I didn’t know I had
Once in a while, sex is everything but the act itself: The moments leading up to it, followed by the sweet aftermath. Sex is so much more than ‘fucking’, and can start with a look or with seemingly innocent touches, building up until the air is heavy with sex—before anyone’s clothes even come off.
Travel back with me to a balmy morning, two summers ago, and you’ll see what I’m talking about:
Mise-en-scene
The morning sun had already painted the sky pale pink when we made our way out of the club. Avoiding puddles, cigarette buts, and empty mini-vodka-bottles, I sashay into the street and snap my fingers over my head.
—Oooh, I never take taxis he says, not even trying to hide his boyish excitement.
The car glides up in front of us, and I gesture for him to open the door.
Out of the dimly lit sex club, I can really see him, and oh boy! is he but a boy —a strikingly handsome one at that.
I turn towards him and glide a hand through his full head of blonde curls, following his jawline with my index finger, I place it on his bottom lip—all while staring seductively into his deep green eyes.
