Turned out to be a body builder named “John” who is a doppelganger for that other, greener, body builder who worked opposite Bill Bixby in the 70’s.
Couldn’t string two sentences together other than, “I want to make you moan.” and “I’ll come over with some wine and give you a massage. ” I’m finding men really get into massage. Smart men.
And he wouldn’t send a face photo though I appreciated the ones he did send- at my request, multiple photos from one request actually – of his abs, biceps, triceps and lats, and all of which, somehow, obscured his facial features. I don’t get it.
I will admit, his biceps were large and held tatts in the right position. Yes, a young thang. Damned hot. Yes.
He quickly asked if I’d consider a casual arrangement as soon as I grew concerned about his name, John, (officer John perchance pretending to A. John?) His hopes to hire someone for
sex, a skill set capable of pleasing the boss soon dropped to, “I just need some make out time.”
In other words, he needs his $800 for kale chips and whey protein and he’s sure all those nutrients absorb better after sex.
I agree. Everything absorbs better after sex including my 22% Egyptian cotton towels stolen off that cruise I took on the Carniavale line back in 1991.
He promised he is DDF (for those of you entertaining excursions in the new millennium, that means Disease and Drug Free as in cleared of the STDs that your mother warned you about) but I’m not sure he knew what DDF means, either.
I hear ‘roid consumption really increases the stamina. I think is this why he was hoping to “get with” a mature lady which when pronounced, “machure lay-dee ” makes me quiver (in all the wrong ways. )
And he refused to provide paperwork about where it’s been and with whom it’s been running those marathons.
I decided since there was no typing required I might enjoy it.
But then I realized I’m not fluent in Neanderthal so it would be better if I refresh my skills using Rosetta Stone first. Should probably start with edition 1, the Stone Age; Drag Off with Boner Speak.
I just don’t have time for that. I’m already trying to learn Italian. Although Italian men are so fluent and smooth and blatantly appreciative of a romance language- heck any language spoken in the language of my hips- so I might have more free time than I think.
I really feel I should just spend my time studying noble grapes and the wine regions of Italy and not go to the caveman era.
She sticks with the original plan to adventure wisely, learn from the locals and always take the unpaved road.