Attraction and allure — yummy

This is quickie — speaking of which…salacious, attractive and alluring.

Are are we primarily attracted–I’m talking romantically and sexually here people — to people who are roughly our own age?

It’s not that we don’t  find younger and older people beautiful, even lusty…maybe they fill us fantasy, dreamy interludes,  but when it comes to sustainable relationships…we are pulled toward our peers.  This is biology, okay… young with the young,  fertile with the fertile.

But what about the old(er) with the old(er)?

Before proceeding–a quick note about inclusivity.  I’m all for attraction/allure/partnership that does not fall under this particular musing.  Using “biology” here can be loaded, even a “trigger.”  Relationships come in all forms, of course… gender  and sexuality are not binary,  singular or multiple lovers seem perfectly understandable to me,  as well as huge age differences.  Reminder:  the following is my own experience: I do not impose the truth,  I merely try to express my own — which is easier said than done.

Let’s get down into the trenches (shall we say, “pants?”) of the ones we want.  I remember all the boys I’ve been attracted to over the decades…I wondered, even way back then:   why do I find these young things so alluring, when surely there are gorgeous, luscious older men around?  I like to look…don’t get me wrong.  I could even see a 40 year old as a hotty (I’m talking as a teenager here folks, 40 was pretty damn old). I might imagine sex with him,  wondering what he looks like undressed.  But I did not crave his companionship (for more than a night or two). I was attracted to the same, stumbling, ignorant, innocent, naive young men of my generation.   Now this can be chalked up to the mating game, reproduction and all that… but there’s something else going on here, because this desire endures so far beyond those horny days of youth.

In my 20s,   I wanted men in the 20s — in my 30’s, so on and so on. Now, I find gray-haired, grizzled, relatively fit men turning my head… “wow, there goes another one…” (there’s a lot of them out there these days). Is this simply what we call “radar.” Am I looking for myself?  Is that what my instincts define as a good match?  I crave…

I crave… a kind of match…(or not — there’s a lot to say for a solitary life, another blog, another day)

 

So my antennae are up and wiggling,  my senses tuned to aromas,  textures,  visual appetites, audio cues (ahh, the right timber in the voice), dare I say “taste” as well?

I crave …the history —  coming of age at roughly the same period in history, and occupying this same place in time as the years unfold.  Maybe we chalk it up to just being able to share cultural/historical l references…I’m not talking about being the same ethnicity, or same economic class here, no…  it has to do with the events that shape(d) us  10-50 years ago… As much as I might be tickled by talking to a beautiful young person about this or that,  if they don’t know the difference between Gloria (Steinem)  and Phyllis (Schlafly) …an ocean divides us.  It’s not that the ocean is not worth crossing sometimes, but we’re talking about codes, shorthand, time saved...which becomes more critical as we age perhaps…ahh…we feel the weight of time, and vow to use it more wisely perhaps?  Do we want to spend thousands of hours “educating” our partners, and vice versa?   Ahhh, maybe that’s what we’re talking about most —

I don’t want to waste time.

No young animal wants to wait around for their mate …  get moving, get laid, and move on… (buy a little house and hang curtains?)  (spread your seeds and eggs around?)

Back to attraction and allure…piqued radar … I, we, I, we, I crave…

more than anything perhaps,  companionship.  When this is accompanied with a playful interlude in bed, “oooh baby, sure, let’s play wench and knight,”

 

..but is that just the icing at this point?   hmmm…it’s worth an exploration — the trip might be a wild ride…whee…

 

 

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