Come Hither: Dirty Old Man or Experienced Lover? Let’s Talk About it!!

Let me tell you something about me……. I’m, shall we say, energetic……

I’ve been burning the candle at both ends since my infant days. I would tire everyone out with my boundless energy, questions and curiosity. Most people, including kids my own age, would tap out of activities just when I would be getting warmed up.

It always seemed like people couldn’t keep up with me. I’ve since learned to accommodate this inequity, but I digress.

I’ve also always been a very a physical female; strong, aggressive and deeply in love with all things that increases one’s heartbeat.

When I started chasing boys, dating and having sex, same shit, the variety of sexual experiences taught me that not all men are created equal.

What’s the payoff after having maneuvered my time away from my Dad’s watchful eyes, a trip across town, scratching up bus fare to get to the place I’m not supposed to be, and then sneaking in and out of windows, fire escapes and/or by sleeping parents on the couch ?!!!

Not five minutes, I’ll tell you that! #truestory

But since I’m the studious type, I kept going with my social biology experiment. With a pocket full of condoms and a standing appointment at Planned Parenthood, I went where no other woman had gone before. To gain experience with sex.

I approached sex the same way I approached everything else, I sought to learn it, and to master it.


Sex toys.

With the lights off……and on.

During the sunrise and as the sun went down. From sundown until sunrise the next morning.

I learned that not all men are created equal after all. I didn’t have to be disappointed by a lazy, inexperienced, or stamina lacking lover. I have standards, and the men better be able to keep up if they hope to ever see me again.

My palate is quite developed these days…..

I revel in the chase.

The dance between male and female.

I’m often the predator, but a young girl couldn’t walk around being plump and juicy without coming to learn about the dreaded neighborhood phenomena known as the DIRTY OLD MAN.

Like a goblin that lives under the bridge, I would be minding my business wandering through my young teen years, when he reveals himself. Tacky, hairy, and sleazy, he looks like every unsettling man you can think of, and he’s honed his Spidey senses onto me.

DIRTY. OLD. MEN. are only after one thing. They prey on young girls and they have horns and hoofs, so I heard.

DIRTY. OLD. MEN. are to be avoided at all cost, lest a dirty old man turns YOU into a puff of smoke!

DIRTY OLD MEN become embedded into a female’s brain as something disgusting, but in time, things may begin to change. As she gets older, the bridge between maturity, adulthood and shared interests lessen with age. The social distance isn’t so hard to adjust to once you get some life experience under your belt.

I dated a creep of an older man who only went after young pretty girls in need of ‘assistance’. I avoided him like the plague until I buckled under the pressure of my friends. I allowed him to take me out for drinks at the local after work watering hole. Though too eager to please me, he was very nice and generous. He seemed excited and nervous during our exchanges. He never did anything strange, but the feeling that something wasn’t right was still there.

Blah. Blah. Blah and a whole lot of liquor and many moons later. We spent the night at the hotel. It was a beautiful place that was quite expensive. He nearly fell down the stairs as he attempted to keep up with my skipping up the steps two at a time back when I had knees that did that cool shit.

I slept like a baby in that bed while he pouted, huffed and puffed over his inability to ‘enjoy’ our evening.

I was only slightly annoyed. If I”m in bed with you than I expect some action, dammit.

I had guys my age whose flag flapped in the wind when it was supposed to be at full staff, its depressing.

I began to associate age with (even more likely) sexual dysfunction, in addition to the awkwardness and inability to keep up as I had already experienced with previous sex partners. DIRTY. OLD. MEN., the boogeymen, weren’t allowed on my radar, at ALL, thanks to this guy.

In time, he fell to wayside, resentful that he had found himself in a room full of diamonds, yet he lacked the hands to grab his fill of riches now that he had his chance.

DIRTY. OLD. MAN. And life went on.

IT guy was only a few years older than I, when we met, but at 40, I still considered him an old man while in my late 20’s.

Caramel skinned, and a recently retired Marine, he made coming to work not so bad first thing in the morning. With a minor in Computer Sci that I had just withdrawn from, I was hired to be his assistant, he kept my secret and taught me everything I needed to know about logistics infrastructures and computing.

Since I was a fast learner, it wasn’t long before we were able to spend most of our day hidden away in the catacombs of the warehouse, giggling and joking like two school age kids. We had ‘great chemistry’ if you get my drift and I think you do.

His Scorpio went very well with my Capricorn. We were from the same general neighborhood in Newark, and had many other things in common. He was so intelligent, our conversations spanned topic and subjects, both of us passionate and assertive debaters. A heated exchange produced a Hallmark card and chocolates once. We weren’t boss and the chick under the boss any more. #pun


Blah, blah, blah… happened and let’s just say he changed my mind about ‘older men’. I had an amazing affair with him, peppered by laughter, lovemaking, life lessons and intimacy. I crawled out the room, got the chance to play in a power exchange relationship and his body was dope as Hell. #semper fi

I miss that guy…….*rocks and hums*

Fast forward to not to long ago when I befriended a brethren blogger who shall, hopefully, remain nameless. I would wait on his articles to publish just so that I could read the beautiful words that come from his mind.

Adult themed essays never seemed so when he wrote them, regardless of the topic, or subject matter.

If words were foreplay then he gave good dictionary.

The awareness, open mindedness and freedom he expresses in his writing represents all things a woman would want to have embedded in the heart of the man she’s sleeping with.

I watched for as long as I could without making myself known; I later found out that he had been reading my adult themed pieces as well. #gamerecognizesgame

Work needs on the web site we wrote for required us to communicate via chat for blog meetings, it wasn’t too long before we began our own personal internet friendship. He and I exchanged numbers and have only spoken on the phone a hand full of times.

We spent the night talking that first time, all the way until sun up the next morning, I remember listening to him say something profound as the orange of the sun bled into the dark dawn sky.

I held the phone against my ear like I had done to my Princess cordless back in the 90s.

I waited for the words to fall out of his mouth. He said nothing naughty and everything tantalizing. Nothing insulting, and everything irreverent, intelligent and bare knuckles face front.

We sincerely discussed everything personal, private, contrite, intimate and sexual.

We were mind fucking…and I loved it.

At some point when adults discuss personal details, age does come up, hearing that he was 20+ older than I caused me to bat an eye. Just one.

I still held a bias against older men. In my mind, any man significantly older than I qualified as a DIRTY. OLD. MAN.

I’m still un-learning childish things…..

Fast forward nearly a year later. I am running around Manhattan lost.

A die hard New Yorker, my writing amore tried his best to text me back on the right path so that I could make my lunch date. It wasn’t happening, so instead he suggested an impromptu meet for us.

He gave me directions that I was actually able to follow, and kept check on me as I moved from street to street, he did better than Google map ever did.

I arrived on the correct block, he saw me coming before I recognized him. A loud obnoxious whistle  loud as I crossed the street in search of him. I turned to curse out whoever was doing the whistling or throw a dirty look, when I realized it was him.

He apologized that our dinner would have to be discreetly priced, as he was recently laid off from a position he held for many years. I didn’t care if we went to McDonald’s, where means nothing to me, its always the who that I give a fuck about it.

We make our way to South Street Seaport and into a restaurant that I had often stared at from the outside but doubted I could or would indulge in the cost of ever eating in. The waiter addressed us promptly and my now ‘date’ responded in a very masculine decisive way.

As he stepped aside to allow me to walk ahead of him, I realized how much I enjoyed and was accustomed to being treated as the ‘lady’ by a man who enjoys being ‘the man’. The better part of this realization is the fact that although we can both adhere to gender roles, neither of us are so embedded in the robotic existence of ‘man’ and ‘woman’ that there was no room to also exist as ‘human beings.

He requested a seat by the back next to a picture window in the nearly empty restaurant.

“I thought you would enjoy sitting back here. You like the water and there’s a great view of the skyline here.”

Chair pulled out. I am seated.

We began light banter that was rudely interrupted by my inability to remain focused.

His eyes.

His voice.

His laughter.

The NYC tough sounding accent conveyed opinions and a vocabulary that betrayed the poised man sitting in front of me. He’s lived three lives, and has loved women through each of them. Down and out. Rebellious. Renewal. Humility. Full circle awareness.

No wife. No children. Not on purpose.

I was just as intrigued by him in person as I was while reading his work and during our phone conversations.

I stared intently at him across a candle lit table, as the sun set in the New York harbor. I saw a lot of things, but age wasn’t one of them.

When faced with too many options, I get overwhelmed, this means that I should not be left alone with a menu and asked to make a decision. I will consider each item, twice, and still go with burgers or fries or something I know I eat just so that I’ll order something, otherwise, I won’t eat at all.

He was aware of this, from our conversations, and so he suggested three options of things that I do eat that adhered to my finicky eating habits.

Problem solved.

When presented with the wine option.

What? Who…?

He chose a splendid wine that had something to do with something about the food and type of toes made to create it, and I loved it. We had more conversation, and more laughter, and a delightful ROMANTIC date.

The check came. The meal was paid for. The waiters and servers were graciously thanked and compensated. I had my chair pulled out and coat slide onto my shoulders by a man that smelled ‘like that’ to me.

An extended walk to the train led to us taking cell phone pictures of objects rather than each other. The crowded street forced us to walk closer together, his arm always gently on my back to lead me in this direction or that. I was disappointed to find us standing outside of the train station.

More talking as people bumped us and shot annoyed looks at our taking up precious commuter train dashing space.

Uncomfortable looks and apprehension from me. I had let my ‘dirty old men’ opinion be known early on and my date was absolutely platonic behaving up to this point.

My train was about to leave and I couldn’t miss the last thing smoking to my home state.

Normally, I’m the predator, and then I decided to be prey by stepping into his personal space to give him the go head to do what comes next.

“What about your ‘dirty old man’ policy?” He teases.

“I sure hope so”, I respond over my shoulder as I run for my train.

What made me change my mind? Because judging by age is kinda stupid and the only person missing out on an awesome guy will be me and I hate missing a good meal!

He’s in better shape than many men my age and much younger. He’s experienced in life, and also with women both in and out of the bedroom. I know we have plenty of purity police here so does a man having a sex life previous to one with you make him ‘damaged goods’ or an experienced lover for you to enjoy?

So….I said all that to say:

What’s your feelings about older men? When dating, its easy to fall into using stereotypes to judge and dismiss certain people. Why do older guys unfairly get a bad rep when it comes to being considered as viable mates and partners? I know we here a lot about Viagra but before the onslaught of the magical blue pill there were still plenty of men who had the gusto naturally.

What are the benefits of dating an older man? I sure did enjoy a man who understood traditional roles who also happens to be very forward thinking and progressive due to the years he’s had on this Earth to work on himself.

What are the drawbacks? Age doesn’t equal death when 30 year olds are dying of heart attacks and others live to be 100. If there are no kids involved, doesn’t this just become a case of two people who are considering their viability as a couple or is there more to it?

Have you dated an older man/woman?

Say something so I’m not here talking to myself dammit!!

#TeamShadesofGrey in full affect!!! Whose with me……?




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