In my recent years I have been with quite a few older women, older than I would ever imagine. I really don’t have an actual preference or fetish for older women, and as long as I find them attractive, I dare to say I treat them no different from any other. With the exception of people who are special to me.
However, there is something that always seems to happen (sometimes consciously, and sometimes unconsciously) when being intimate with them and later sharing life experiences, or just talking about life in general. And that is how much my youth seems to bloom in their eyes, not only through my appearance, but more through my words, through my mind, through my dreams.