Ah, Kinga. The forever wish, ain’t it? Look, at my age, I look around at the landscape and it’s a bit sparse. Men my age are in horrific shape. They are NOT attractive to me, and if they are, they’re chasing skirts half their age (just like I do, thank you), because they can, and I have no issue with that whatsoever. Unlike a lot of women, that preference is not an insult to me. It irks the hell out of me that older women get so pissed off about guys who like young chicks. Why on earth should anybody be damned for a preference? I like younger men with great big muscles because I myself am a muscle head. ‘Struth, that’s why I kept going back to the BF who kept hurting me. I’d love to have good company. If it’s supposed to happen, my guess is that it will. If not, then it’s my job to make the best of what I have. What I have is pretty fucking amazing. So in sum, not bad, baby, not bad. Long gone are the days when I would berate myself for being substandard for lack of male arm candy. Besides, look, and forgive me if this is TMI, before I left for this trip, I was on the couch watching a football game and gave myself fifteen orgasms in a row with my handy dandy buzzer. Show me a man who can do that, honey, and I’m over the moon. In the meantime, like Wonder Woman, I’ve found ways to manage. :-)

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Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

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