I Love Dirty Old Men

I like my men old, flabby and grateful.

Mar 30, 2012 at 1:00pm | Leave a comment

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I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I have a touch of the ol' daddy issues. (It's like a summer flu.)
 
Which perhaps explains why the last time I dated a guy in his 20s, I was 15. My current partner is 39, which is honestly a bit young for me. I'm like a weirdly specific sexual predator, prowling for men within the 40-55 age demographic. (I'm pretending like 55 is my upper cap so you won't think I'm gross.)

Although there’s something to be said for the sheer genital-pounding energy of a young dude, I like my men old, flabby and grateful.  While everyone else drools over Ryan Gosling or any other young, chiseled "hot dude," I see a like, a pile of lumpy oatmeal. Not digusting, by any means, but not enticing.

Flabby middle-aged bald guys are my bacon. (I'm also a well-documented chubby chaser.)

So when Megan "Oooh La La" Draper cooed "You're a dirty old man," all sexy-like in Don's face on Sunday's "Mad Men" premiere, I know a lot of people were like "Ewwww," but I was like MMMMMhmmmmm.

Of course, if she was really as committed to dirty old men as this particular xoJane employee, she'd be up nights dreaming about Roger Sterling putting it in her for just one second, GOD I CAN'T TAKE IT the man is my Kryptonite.

I want to be really honest with you about why I enjoy fetishizing and having my own age fetishized. Because, yeah, on some level I am probably searching for love and approval from DADDY substitutes the world over.

But also I think my sexual thermostat is just kind of broken, like that scene where Slater and Jessie Spano get locked in the boiler room during prom. It's stuck all the way at HOT with steam pouring out of it and to me HOT HOT HOT = dirty and wrong.

Which  is probably why I also like to use the word "Daddy" in bed on occasion. No, I don't want to have sex with MY father, but using the word, loaded as it is with connotations of power and taboo, gets me unapologetically hot.

In my decade of field tests, I have found that Daddy is the one word in the English language with a singular power over young and old men alike. If you have the balls to use it, it can ramp things up to 11 more quickly than a well-timed finger in the butt. (Admittedly, it can also occasionally shut things down reeeeally quickly.)

My old dudes don't have to look like Clooney either. It’s possible in my sexual universe for someone to be so unattractive it comes back around to sexy. While I love a sexy salt-and-pepper Daddy as much as the next pulsating human, even ugly older dudes can do it for me in that “dirty old man ravaging my nubile young body” way.

Sure, my enjoyment of this particular brand of sexiness probably stems from some deep-seated issues, but if I can play them out with consenting adults who are also enjoying themselves, why not?  Like so much of the weird stuff that bubbles to the top of the murky swamp of psychosexual quirks and kinks, who's it really hurting?

And old guys know what they're doing! In the sack, and out on the town. Not only will they take you to the restaurant, they know what to order and what wine goes with it. They have beds! I was trying to explain to all the little 23-year-old assistants flitting around here about dating guys with beds the other day. Not a futon, not a pull-out couch, not a matress on the floor, A BED. It's really hard to go back once you start dating guys with beds.

The other cool thing about dating older guys is that no matter what, you will never catch up. You are always going to be the hot younger babe, which is great for someone like me who needs to be worshipped as an Amazonian sex goddess.

I like to be pursued. I can't stand pretty dudes who think they're doing me a favor by putting it in me. I know it's not politically correct to say, but I will always be the one doing every guy I ever have sex with the favor. The vagina is always the favor. Those are the sexual power dynamics that I am accustomed to and how I intend to live out the rest of my life. Future generations can challenge them if they'd like.

Traditionally good-looking young dudes also sometimes get super belligero when you don't want to sleep with them, further reiterating that I am making the right choice by not doing so.

While I can certainly note objectively that these guys are good-looking, they don't turn me on. More than once in my online dating days, I nicely told a 20-something guy that while he was very attractive, he was "not my type," and that I wished him luck, only to have him snap and start insulting my appearance, as if I was somehow obligated to sleep with him because he fits into society's idea of traditionally "hot."

Sure, old dudes could be thinking gross stuff like that, too, but for the most part they seem just grateful and psyched to be seeing you naked. And I'd much rather spend my money in a place that's happy to have me as a customer. Wherein my "money" is my "vagina." Obviously.

Ultimately, this is all probably related to my lifelong dance with a partner called low self-esteem. But I already told you, when I look at a young, buff Adonis type, I feel cold and dead in my clitoris, so what am I supposed to do? The vagina wants what the vagina wants. (I think that's how that saying goes.)

Anybody with me? Or am I standing here alone awkwardly again?