[insert blah-blah boring conversational stuff that doesn't concern you]
[Now begins with some of the best writing I've done in months:]

I am, much to my discredit, twenty years old. I'm having a delightfully good time doing delightfully bad things, so worry not.
30 is very much inside my 'exceptional age' bracket.
Ladies in their 40s are fun, but often too... guilty. Not about enjoying their time with me necessarily, just with past mistakes and regrets. They care too little about now, too much about then.
Mid thirties, say 35 for the sake of argument, is very lovely though. If you catch a good one on a good day, you'll never forget it. However, many are on the brink of becoming like the 'forties' woman. Desperate to stay away from becoming their mother or aunt or similar, blinded to see how to avoid becoming that; or more specifically blinded to see how to miss the bad bits but keep the good bits.
Mid twenties are notoriously riotous. Amazing. Too many who are still too inexperienced though. The shock she feels when you make her come on the first visit. The extreme shock when she can't return the favour. Also, teaching a woman who's almost 7 years older than you how to actually enjoy her own orgasm is, at least, some what off-putting.

But no. 30 is just exceptional. Read enough books to understand what's going on. Seen enough and done enough to surprise me. Still young and spritely to do all the fun things. Youthfully oblivious enough to not be jaded by the world.
Delicious.