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I've always been the type of man who seeks adventure. I love climbing mountains and navigating a canoe down a series of treacherous rapids. I've swam with sharks off Australia's Great Barrier Reef, and once, found myself face to face with a grizzly bear in the wilderness of Alaska's Yukon. But while I seek outdoor adventure that tests my body's ability to withstand the elements, I also seek pleasures of the sexual nature. I don't mind having sex in the office: it's the chance I might get caught that turns me on. Once, on my way home from the army, a waitress going to my hometown gave me a blowjob in the men's room of the restaurant. I guess she felt it was her patriotic duty and believed she was doing her part for her country. I've often wondered where and how I developed my desire for out-of-the-ordinary sexual desire, and I can honestly say it developed when I was a teenager. My first bout with sex wasn't with some teenaged, pimply-faced cheerleader (although I did have my share of them, believe me): No, my first time was with the mother of the girl I was dating. I was nineteen, and she was forty-four. From that day on, I always went in search of what we refer to today as a "Cougar:" an older woman who seeks and enjoys having sex with younger men. Fortunately for me, there's never been a short supply of cougars to go around. Even today at age fifty-four, I still enjoy the company of a cougar even if she is in her seventies. Hell, I once had an eighty-three old woman and I was only thirty years old! But I'll tell you about that later. When I was in junior high, I remember watching my long-legged math teacher as she turned her back to the class and wrote on the board. Every now and then the guys and I ...

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