Player? Serial monogamist? Peter Pan? Lothario?
Why label? Some people’s libido does not wane with the years. Let’s just say a charming actor confided to me over lunch he absolutely loves women. I’ll say. After dating a cavalcade of beauties, and entering his fifth decade, his ardor remains fierce. While his female contemporaries turn their attentions to their children, he appears to turn his attentions to their daughters. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
The new generation of companions have no complaints, and I know for a fact he is generous to a fault, but I’ll just point out the obvious; a May December romance always gives December the upper hand. Have I mentioned all relationships involve the ticklish issue of control? Well, my dears, just factor in how much control you’re willing to cede.