Zac, for instance, was a bumptious prick (I use that word for a reason) with scant respect for his elders and betters. Very early on in our messaging he told me he loved a ‘really good long BJ’. It was the most important and most enjoyable part of sex for him and he always got what he wanted. ‘I’m sure that as a cougar your experience will prevail in that,’ he said. And he added that if I wasn’t prepared to do it, as far as he was concerned it was a ‘deal-breaker’. I replied that, first of all, I didn’t like being labelled a cougar. A cougar was a wild cat, a predator, whereas I believed only in relations between gladly consenting adults and had never preyed on anyone. And didn’t cougars wear red lipstick and have long painted talons? Nothing at all like me. I was more of a pussycat, really. So much more simpatico. As for his favourite practice, I told Zac it wasn’t something I took lightly or did for everyone, ‘only for someone I have feelings for’.
