When I was a lad, I tried to keep myself from staring because I thought women didn’t want to be objectified. Sounds like I missed that boat. Maybe the young women wanted me to stare?
Now that I’m over 50, I give up. It’s too hard. I’m going to look. Too bad if you don’t like it or feel objectified. That’s on you. I’m not objectifying you. I think you look beautiful. If you look at me I’ll smile at you. I’ll talk if you want, but we don’t have to. I am no longer going to be ashamed of thinking that you are beautiful and I am no longer going to stop myself from looking at your ass or legs or boobs or face or whatever else stops my heart at the moment.
If that makes you uncomfortable, then I’m sorry. It’s not meant to. I’d rather you took it as appreciation. And I know you think the young guys are all so hot, but not every girl is like you. Some like their sugar daddies and whatnot. And some don’t see everything in terms of sex and mating. Some are even happy to talk to someone older who has a lot of life experience. Some even don’t mind that I look at you like I’d like to eat you up.
I might. You look delicious. But I won’t. It’s not appropriate, in any case, and besides which, I have no interest in someone your age as any kind of equal partner or even in a purely sexual relationship. A), I’m taken. B) it is unlikely we could have an interesting conversation. I’d give you a chance if you wanted one, but I’m sure it wouldn’t go very far. As it happens, I have my own daughter who is far more interesting to talk to because I know a whole lot more about her. She’s easy on the eyes, too. So’s my son. In a few years, he’d probably be one of those boys you want to look at you now, but you can’t have him. I don’t like your attitude. I don’t like the way you look at people.
Still. Good luck with that. You sound pretty bitter, though, and that can eat a pretty big hole in your psyche if you let it last.