Why Men Prefer Older Women

I think Wikipedia said it best:

“MILF. Noun. A common colloquial term generally regarded as vulgar, yet denoting a sexually attractive older female; generally between thirty and fifty years of age.”

That works for me!

Despite the words that comprise the acronym itself (MILF = Mom I’d Like To F**k), the general consensus is the term MILF has evolved beyond its literal meaning and into a complimentary way of acknowledging the sensuality of a woman in her thirties and beyond.

Indeed.

Thanks to television shows like Cougar Town and The Real Housewives series, the term has permeated the lexicon of pop culture and helped shape the stereotypes of the beautiful state I call home.

One stereotype that definitely holds true is that California is a mecca for beautiful women.

Fortunately for me, one such woman is my friend, Lauren.

One of the best things about Lauren is that she’s a forty-year-old mother of three. I’ve long contended a great many women grow more attractive as they age.

Both inside and out.

Last week Lauren and I went to a popular restaurant in Los Angeles. It was Ladies Night and the place was overflowing with feminine perfection… most of it under the age of twenty-five.

Forget about doing a double take, these ladies were dressed-to-kill triple takes and made Kim Kardashian look like a “5" on a ten scale.”It’s

Much to my dismay, they also matched Miss Kardashian in the intelligence department. Call me judgy, but the combined brainpower of this gaggle of girls couldn't spark up a sixty-watt bulb.

Yes, I’m serious. 

The sheer amount of mind-numbing drivel pouring out of their mouths made me want to stick a hot poker in my eye.

Yet none of this mattered to the throngs of middle-age dudes flocking to these young women like it was Spring Break ’97 all over again.

Picture this scenario…

Balding, middle-aged cock jockeys competing for the attention of young twenty-somethings, all while ignoring the older, no less beautiful women sitting directly behind them.

The scene was frenetic—aggressive, competitive… like a chaotic beehive, singularly focused on the queen.

Then it hit me: these dudes were the Hindenburg.

You know, the most famous photo in aviation history?

Only tonight, it wasn’t just one blimp—it was a whole damn fleet.

A fleet of horny Hindenburgs.

Lauren and I both rolled our eyes… we could see where this was headed.

Witnessing such tomfoolery before my very eyes filled me with an overwhelming desire to help these guys out… maybe get them to see the error of their ways.

I thought about it a sec, then decided against it.

As a general rule, I try not to stick my slightly pointy nose into other people's business unless it's some serious shit. And while Dan & Douche Squad were definitely off-gassing high levels of social stank, it certainly didn't require an invention.

So I kept my thoughts to myself.

Had I not, the intervention would've gone something like this…

“WHAT are you jackasses doing??!!

Holding auditions for The Bachelor: Midlife Crisis Edition???

Or maybe shooting an infomercial? ‘What NOT To Do When Hitting on Women?’

You socially-inept dorks are like a bunch middle school band geeks trying to impress the cool kids at lunch.

And oh…

Why are you wasting time with the milk-and-cookies crowd in the first place?

Those princesses are barely out of the playpen, for Christ’s sake!

The REAL crown jewels in this joint are the mature women behind you… NOT the barely legal half-wit in front of you. Yeah, I’m talking about HER! 🤨 … the one blathering on and on about the app she uses to facetune her already fine-ass face!”

And so my mental musings went.

And went.

And went.

Of course, I didn't actually SAY any of this.

But I sure as hell thought it.

And it got me thinking…

There IS something about a woman over a certain age that both appeals to and intrigues me.

Like a fine wine, I believe many women only get better with time.

As a man who's had the great privilege to love, appreciate, and adore a variety of women in my lifetime, I can tell you with absolute certainty that an older woman can stimulate both my loins and intellect in ways no college coed could ever dream.

Who gives a shit about a few stretch marks or breasts that aren't as perky as they once were?

What these women supposedly "lack" according to the standards of our vain and youth-obsessed culture, they MORE than make up for in confidence, intellect and experience.

Now, this is NOT an affront to the younger generation of women. They are, after all, the feminine finery of the future.

But young women simply haven't been around long enough to acquire the wisdom and knowledge that can ONLY come from years spent in the trenches of life.

And it is precisely this EXPERIENCE why older women kick ass over their younger counterparts in almost every way imaginable.

It's her complete and total lack of sexual inhibition as I work her over into a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and tousled hair.

Sure, a hot young body is nice, but it pales in comparison to the self-assured sensuality and confidence of a woman in her sexual prime.

And let's not forget the depth of her intellect or her ability to converse.

These two things alone can stimulate me for hours on end and factor heavily into my own personal law of attraction.

I'd rather eat a bar of soap and wash it down with motor oil than endure even sixty seconds of the mindless yammering typical of the average twenty-something.

Unlike the middle-aged cock jockeys in the story above, I can't fathom for a moment why men find cerebrally-challenged young women so appealing.

Count me out of your cranium-corroding sausage fest, Gentlemen. I'll take brains before beauty every damn time.

All in all, a mature woman's quiet self-assurance in who she has become is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Like the cliffs that grace a rocky shoreline, many a woman's life is shaped by the gale force winds of marriage, children, heartache and loss.

Somewhere in the stormy chaos of a life built around serving others, many of these women sadly lose themselves.

Fortunately for men like myself, they also find themselves again.

The return path they blaze refines and shapes them like a master craftsman honing his finest art.

The person who emerges on the other end is often another woman entirely.

A stronger, wiser and deeper woman; borne of the trials and tribulations of modern life…

… and that's something no younger woman will ever rival.