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[Breeder] Open Forum Monday: The Big One


TheBreeder

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I had one of those birthdays last week. It wasn’t a milestone birthday in the traditional sense—that is, the year didn’t end with a zero. But it was one of those birthdays that’s ominous to gay men in general, because it’s a number at which time suddenly stands still and past which, mysteriously no gay man ever ages.

No, not 25. I can see your confusion, though. That’s the age that gay men ape in their dress habits, especially the fifty-somethings who stuff themselves into a Hollister T-shirt under the hope that the brand name will do a David Copperfield on their age and shave off twenty-five years before everyone’s marveling eyes. So no, not 25. The other number.

No, not 29. Yes, I know that’s the age that all women over 30 claim to be. That’s more of a female thing, though. Men over thirty claim they’re 32, all the way up until they’re my age. It doesn’t matter if they’re 39, or 42, or 46. If you look at their profile, or ask them in a bar late at night when the lights are low, they’re going to tell you they’re 32. But not either of those numbers.

And no, it’s not 43. Where’d that come from?

Look, I’ll just tell you. I turned 49. For-ty-niiiiine. It’s the last number to which gay men will admit. Men born in the year I was born—1964—are 49. Men born in the nineteen-fifties are 49. Guys who popped out of a Great Gatsby-era flapper wearing a shingled skirt and shouting twenty-three skiddoo! claim to be 49. Gay men hit 49 and then remain there until their deaths, thirty-five years later. It doesn’t matter that they’re hunched over and clutching a cane and looking like Young Mr. Grace on Are You Being Served?, who doddered around barely able to say his one line of the entire show. He’s 49, dammit, and 49 he’ll stay.

FOREVER.

I had an argument with my own brother about the age of 49 a couple of years ago. My brother has been 49 for almost a dozen years now, both in his online profiles and with new guys he meets. It made me more and more anxious about approaching the age myself—not because I feared the number itself. I don’t give a rip. It’s because I had this vision of my age matching his, then surpassing him. Then I’d be the older brother. And that’s a crime against nature. I’m too foxy to be the older brother.

So I nagged. And I pleaded. Finally he changed his age to 99, which in online profile land is basically a big fuck you to anyone who wants to get a general idea of how old someone is.

But it’s still older than 49.

I’d like to proclaim up front that my age will continue to change from year to year. Next February I will be 50. In 2015, I will be 51. Just you wait and see. Check in with in a decade and I’ll be 59. Still foxy, and 59.

I don’t like to let a number dictate how I feel about myself, see. I spent way too much of my early life doing that. It started the week I lost my virginity at 12, in my earliest encounter getting cruised in a men’s room toilet. The guy next to me, after peering through a gloryhole and looking at my smooth and hairless body, passed me a note written on toilet paper and wrapped around a Bic pen that read, How old are you???

Right away, I lied. 14, I wrote back. Because in my naive mind, there was a vast world of experiential difference between a callow youth of 12 and a seasoned sexual professional of 14, and I didn’t want to seem like a young newbie.

God, was I dumb. Not that the guy cared. He had his dick in me less than thirty seconds later.

I was always lying about my age to men in my teens. I added on three, four, five years to make men comfortable about fucking me. In college, because I’d skipped a year of high school and entered early, I added on a couple of years so that my classmates didn’t think I was contemptibly young. I had a baby face in grad school, where I the only 20-year-old surrounded by students in their late twenties, thirties, and forties—so I told everyone I was 25. I added on years until I reached 30, when I decided I’d had enough about apologizing for something as silly as how old I was.

And yes, at 49 I’ve had my share of rejection based on my age. Or more accurately, I’ve run across the guys to whom I’m invisible because I’m not 25 (or wearing that Hollister T to pretend I am). I’ve seen plenty of profiles of guys who absolutely positively will never ever meet anyone over 45 ever! You know what? Screw that. It’s easy to see the scores of those profiles and feel slighted. I don’t intend to waste my time bemoaning them. It seems to me the men who are missing out are those who sit on the sidelines and simply don’t try, because they’re too sensitive to rejection.

In the end, I’d rather be rejected arbitrarily so that I know someone’s a close-minded asshole, than magically accepted because I gave out a fictional number as my age. And that’s, as Edith Ann used to say (see, I’m dating myself), the truth.

So in this Monday’s open forum, I’m curious. Who out there has lied about his or her age in order to land a guy? For what reasons? Are you fibbing about your age now? Are you going older or, more likely, younger? How young do you dare to go—that is, how many years is it safe to shave off in the service of preserving one’s youth? And is there life after 49? I’d love to hear from you guys.

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i looked 15 until i was 30. i worked it into the ground, but until i was 29, if i was asked i'd add 7 years on to my actual age. my thought was, 'for 25 i need a nap, but for 32 i look amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing.'

then i decided that was just stupid, that pretending to be older was just as bad as pretending to be younger. so now i proudly proclaim my middle-agedness. and when people say i look good for my age, i quote cher on her 40th birthday. 'what does 'you look good for your age' mean? either i look good or i don't. saying 'you look good for your age' is like saying 'for a fat girl you don't sweat much'.'

i live in a college town. sometimes it feels like everyone's 20 except me. and i love it.

i'm 47 and i admit it freely. only 3-18 more years and i can officially be a dorty old man. can't wait.

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Huh. I've never subscribed to the 'age threshold'. Honestly, I pay so little attention to my age that I have to do the math to get it right - so dammit - I freely admit I'll reach the august age of 55 when my birthday rolls around in June of this year.

Good for you, Hotload. I think it's a happier way to live, ultimately.

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I was taught by family how to suck by age 7. I later would learn about parks and bathrooms and go around saying I was 16 when I was obviously ten. One guy who fucked me told me he knew I was lying about my age bc he said no 16 year old wore Superman underwear. I was stupid and looking back know that they all knew I lied. I was sucking guys in their teens up to 60 year olds and of coursing swallowing as I was taught. One guy would have me sneak out of school in 6th grade and have him friends all use me and then he'd take me home. My hole would be full of cum and he always douched me well himself so he would have me clean cum off their dicks. I had no idea I was a whore. My uncle who was arrested for raping a boy was fun too. I loved seducing him. I told him I was 16 but he knew I was in 6th grade so... now Im 29 and I look around and find these kids on craigslist who don't want anyone over 25 so I lie to the fuckers and say I am 24. They believe it and the ones who are safe sex freaks usually end up popping my condom and getting bred.

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I very deliberately lied about my age once a few years ago. I saw a post for a bbrt party called "dads and lads." The idea was that the dads in their 40s would fuck the boys in their 20s. I was 31 at the time so I changed my profile to show my age as 28 in order to qualify as one of the night's lads. I've since changed my profile back to reflect my real age (now 34). It's hard to know who's being honest in their appraisal versus just wanting to flatter and get in my pants, but guys regularly put my age anywhere from 5-10 years younger than I actually am.

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I've nevered lied about my age. I never felt the need. I fucked a guy for the 1st time at 13. I had a boyfriend at 16. My first 3some at 20. Married off at 24. Single again at 31. But i'll be honest - I'm freaked out about turning 40 this June. I've been freaked out about turning 40 since I turned 39 last June. I don't know why I'm worked up - its not as if I'm not getting laid (I fucked 5 guys last Saturday). I'd guess it's because my personal life isn't where I thought it would be. I didn't expect to be single at 40. I enjoy fucking who I want, when I want, how I want. At the same time, I miss sharing my life with someone. So, while I've never lied about my age, I will admit that turning 40 is unnerving.

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I very deliberately lied about my age once a few years ago. I saw a post for a bbrt party called "dads and lads." The idea was that the dads in their 40s would fuck the boys in their 20s. I was 31 at the time so I changed my profile to show my age as 28

Do you think anyone else lied about his age that night? And here I was thinking that the story was going to end with you adding ten years to your age so you could be one of the dads. :-)

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I've been freaked out about turning 40 since I turned 39 last June. I don't know why I'm worked up - its not as if I'm not getting laid (I fucked 5 guys last Saturday). I'd guess it's because my personal life isn't where I thought it would be.

The forties are fantastic, Ryan. You'll see.

My only wish is that someone had warned me before I hit my forties that my temper would become a lot shorter during that decade. Someone explained to me it was a hormonal thing and that they call it the 'Furious Forties' for a reason.

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The forties are fantastic, Ryan. You'll see.

My only wish is that someone had warned me before I hit my forties that my temper would become a lot shorter during that decade. Someone explained to me it was a hormonal thing and that they call it the 'Furious Forties' for a reason.

Boy are you right, TheBreeder. For the past ten years or more I have found myself saying things that, years ago, I would have had a much better shot at controlling. On the flip side, I've gotten much better at apologizing for being an ass!

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I've never lied about my age. I'm 44 (soon to be 45) and it's true that there are more men rejecting me know based just on my age, but that's their loss. Sex has never been better since I hit my 40s; I know what I like, I know what I don't like, and I'm better at what I do. I've always been attracted to men in their late 30s/40s and now I know why: the sexual energy is super hot!

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