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FHM Longform: In The Cougar's Den

The true story of two men and their love affairs with not-so-young women.
| Sep 4, 2015
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t’s not always all fun and beautiful women here in FHM; we also regularly tackle serious bro-topics. Written in long form, these stories are a staple of every issue of your favorite men’s magazine. And now we bring it to the web!

Welcome to FHM Longform, a new section where you can read special feature articles on sports, crime, sex, and everything and anything that fascinates bro-kind. Find a comfy spot to park your ass now, and prepare yourself for a nice read!

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Like most men, cute
chinitas always make me do a double take. I go for pretty young things and I had girlfriends who were my age or younger. I’m 27 years old. Until I met this lady who’s 12 years my senior. Let’s call her CB. "

CB was one of the higher-ups; I was a mere admin guy but that didn’t hinder us from getting to know each other. We would regularly go out for drinking sessions with our other officemates. As the night went on, we would find ourselves exclusively chatting while the others wasted away. Our kwentuhan continued through text and Skype messages, sa yosihan area, at kung saan magkaabutan. I found a confidante in her, I was happy. She would also open up to me about her past, her present, and most particularly her feelings of discontent with her husband. I guess that played a big part in us getting involved.

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What I lacked in the height department, I made up for by trying to always look suave and polished. I think I look good and I admit that I feel it too much sometimes. My lady, on the other hand, was always effortlessly beautiful despite her age and her having kids. She was sultry, and she had this way of carrying herself that announced it to everyone.

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On one occasion, our regular group had a little more than the usual round of drinks with a game of Truth or Dare. When it was CB’s turn, she chose Truth. The Question: Was her sex life satisfying? Her answer determined the next chain of events.

It was a resounding no. Everyone’s jaws dropped in wonder. Probably to evade further prodding, she quickly spun the bottle for the next question. When my chance came, I bluntly asked her about it. I was actually thinking “pati ba naman sa kama?” She said that it was because most of the time her husband was not at home because of work, which involved the night shift. When he was home, the husband was almost always too tired and slept all day. I felt so sorry for her and wanted to hug her then and there. She looked at me with sad but wanting eyes and I knew that she didn’t want to be lonely that night.

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It was crazy. As the night wore on we both took our very discreet French leaves. She left first and then I followed suit. We took care of each other’s needs at a nearby motel. The memory is etched in my mind.


She was literally the most delicious woman I had ever made love to: creamy thighs, nourishing bosom, skin that seemed to glow in the dark—man, it was an unbelievable sight. I was not a virgin but doing it with her the first time made me feel like I was a neophyte. That was why I let her do whatever she wanted with my body; she let me come inside her as though she really was parched earth that badly needed rain. I swear.

Not to disappoint, I made a very quick recollection of tried-and-tested moves and performed—all the while trembling with desire. Her moans of pleasure got me more excited; she tasted bittersweet and intoxicating like wine. When she came, she whimpered like a young girl—I thought it was cute. We did it thrice and she showed not the slightest sign of exhaustion. In the afterglow, she told me that she felt years younger

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I woke up the following morning from a terrible dream. We were still doing the deed in the same room when the door flew open and a man with a gun appeared. He fired a shot at us. I was so terrified that I quickly upped and left the motel, leaving her alone.


It has been four years since that fateful night and we are still together. We’re still officemates, and we still have the same circle of friends, which makes it easy for us to squeeze in quality sexy time even during the middle of a busy week. Occasions like office parties, summer outings, birthdays, and even overtime work do it for us. My parents never reprimand me for frequently coming home very late from work, they support my being “career-driven.” CB has yayas to take care of her children and with her absentee husband, she never really has to make up stories. She actually spends more time with me than with her husband and kids.

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Some people at the office wonder about our closeness, and then there are those who know about us. Most just shake off the thought because they find it unlikely that somebody as hot as her would go after me. Those who are in on the secret understand when I have this obvious grin plastered on my face despite a seemingly sleepless night.

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No matter how much CB assures me that her husband knows nothing about us, the terror of that dream has never left me. How we are able to pull it off without him knowing (or doubting) still blows my mind. I know we’ve been doing all safety measures imaginable but here’s the inside skinny: In the job he’s in, he is perfectly capable of finding us out.

CB once told me that her husband once asked who I was after seeing a photograph with me and her in it. You know how a man would say that meeting his girlfriend’s father for the first time scares him? That’s nothing. If CB’s husband meets me and finds out, it could mean losing our jobs, our families, and perhaps our lives—that’s the worst nightmare I can think of right now.

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What I love about our “relationship” is that it’s not always about sex. We don’t just share the bed but also our deepest (and even shallowest) thoughts and dreams.

She has a beautiful mind and she understands me like a best friend. Being a boss herself, she gives me advice on how to handle certain things and people at work. She supported me when I applied for a managerial position and drank with me all night when I didn’t get the job. How else can I get a steady stream of emotional support from a younger woman? I’m definitely not looking for a mother figure. I’d like to think that my own mother (and father) showered me with attention when I was growing up.

I’d also like to think that I am able to give her comfort when she needs it and satisfaction in all levels—emotionally, physically, and sexually. I know that she needs me because she tells me and I feel that I inspire her to live one day at a time. You see, this is not an ordinary affair between a cougar and a young man—there’s no money involved. I try checking out other girls (younger ones) once in a while but I always end up realizing that nobody compares to her. I know that it’s so wrong but I’m proud of myself because somebody this Beautiful cares for me, and I am proud of us and what we have.

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I am closing this by saying that, yes, I have fallen for her. But she always tells me that I am too young and there have been no talks of separation despite her growing dissatisfaction with her husband. And they have kids. It’s all complicated and fragile. Selfish as it may sound, I can never imagine my future without her regardless of what could happen. I don’t know how long this affair of ours will last and where it’s going.

"‘I love older women. They smell good and take care of themselves better. Funny how they say that cougars are the ones always on the prowl for younger men when there’s a man like me who would pay a fortune just to spend a night with this rare species."

I was 25 when I had my first cougar experience. She was a 40-year-old banker who also owned a restaurant. Foxy and intelligent is how I would describe her—imagine Charito Solis in her prime, wearing glasses and smoking with authority. I didn’t really ask her why she was single. I just thought that maybe men got scared of her strong personality and how rich she was.

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I sold her a car and invited her to test drive it to Tagaytay one night. We spent the whole evening getting to know each other. She made the first move, or she must have caught me staring at her—I really can’t remember. She told me that she was impressed by my credentials. I had recently dropped out of med school to pursue another course. We only made out that night. It was a full three months of courtship before the tryst.

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It wasn’t supposed to happen but I guess the sexual deities were on my side that day. Her driver somehow managed to mess up her instructions to pick her up and she ended up being stranded somewhere in the South. She was supposed to play golf with a friend who was also not able to come. Since I was working near the area, she called me. She waited for my shift to end. When we got to the Alabang area it suddenly rained hard. We decided to check in at a nearby hotel resort.

All I could remember was that I was pissed at first because she slept and we shared a single king-size bed. I let her sleep and went down to smoke in the lobby. While I was out, she asked for room service. I got back to the room and found her still sleeping. Being a boy scout, I bought: boxers, briefs, shorts, and extra shirts. I decided to shower and noticed that she had already taken a shower. Bad trip na naman. After the shower, I couldn’t find my boxers so I wore my shorts and ate the room-service food. I didn’t expect to get laid; maybe only third base or something, and she said that she was already tired. While I was eating on the couch, she stood up and I noticed that she was wearing my boxers. My young heart started beating fast in fear and anticipation. Then she got back in bed and told me to warm her up—that was all I needed to hear. I massaged her from head to foot while watching the in-house movie.

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We started kissing. Then we made love. I mean lots of touching and caressing. I guess it was emotional; there was more kissing than sex. She taught me how to spoon, which is now my trademark. It would be the first and last time we made love.

It was crazy, and at the same time good, while it lasted. She eventually broke off with me because she knew I had to leave for the States to start school and that I was young and I had so many dreams. She was a good woman and we remain friends up to this day. I am even godfather to her kid.

She had quite an impact on my current preference for women but I never met a cougar again, not until my “sources” found me a niche in the escort service industry. Let’s just say that I’m 37 now, and I’m one of the privileged few who can afford such luxuries on a regular basis.  

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At the beginning of the year, a source found me a match. She was an ’80s actress in her '50s. No longer active in showbiz, she ran a small business. Why she agreed to hook up with me? Her exact words: “Natuwa akong may batang lalaki na may gusto pa sa akin.” You see, my sources have fantastic connections in the entertainment industry.

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I was really hot and horny for her. I actually remember that she appeared in popular ’80s ST films and some bold flicks when I was a kid, but never in those pene films. She was active in showbiz until the ’90s.

Foxy is the word; voluptuous a la Vivian Velez but in her mid-fifties. The tryst was arranged in a hotel. My  Experience with this actress was awesome. The letdown was that she had fake boobs, but she still smelled good, was clean, and the libido was way up there. She was porn-star wild. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

I’ve been dying to get her again ever since but our schedules couldn’t meet. We constantly keep in touch. The last time I saw her was when we bumped into each other in a casino.


I stand 5’9”, am chinito, and a bit chubby—my looks have not been a problem getting women to undress. I have a nine-year-old daughter but I am not married. She is the center of my life, but she can get very jealous so most of my gimmicks are below the radar.

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When my daughter is old enough to understand that her papa needs a wife, I would like to finally settle down and put this double life behind because I understand that it’s hard to grow old alone. A cougar would make a great wife. That is why I’m always on the prowl.

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