Jab We Met (indian for when we mate)
.......our eyes at least, so what if it was only an almost glance while
No, there hasn't been exactly an exchange of speech between us let alone a shaking of hands or exchange of body fluids yet. I am not certain I even inhabit his mental and visual field of vision. But I have a way of working backward from my assumptions and presuppositions, and leaving Nature to do the rest.
The Metro has never seemed more romantic and tantalizingly erotic to me before. I am all confused in my head:do opposites attract or do birds of the same feather still bunk together in 2011?
He is tall, lean and athletic; clean shaven and blue eyed - need I
say any more? And I am just well me - stodgy, bronzed, moustached, with an ellipsoid waist to boot and a (je ne sais quoi) morbid after glow :)
He wears grey flannel suits with black rimmed glasses, screaming
media or the advertising space.I wear casual formals with transition lenses to work and deal with stiffs and their innards. He works in the City whereas I am a City Boy who works out-of-town.Not much of a common denominator there.
What are the odds our erogenous zones will ever cross? I 'd say about one in a
trillion. Regardless, my bosom is ignited with hope and cheer: my thoughts are mine alone, and he shall take permanent residence in the hall of my erotic thoughts. No one but no one can take thoughts of him away from me save dementia, recreational drug use, accidental injury or the Kind Mother from Heaven.
So what is it going to take for me to be on his smart phone wallpaper?? I
imagine, quite a lot actually.Could he even be aware of the sensual designs I have of him? Is there something I can do to engineer all of this? Well, perhaps perhaps perhaps.
I could offer him a ride in my Mini, on a particularly bad day for commuter trains and he could actually say, oui! Only he is not a Gigolo and I am a salaryman and can't therefore reach deep into my pocketbook to satiate us both in all manner of you know what.......fondness, of course! :)
La-di-da, if this isn't Love Actually; don't know what else can it be?!
At best, do let's call it (a one sided) " Affair to Remember - Absent the Bromide."
waiting for the train to arrive at the platform. It's been exactly one year to the day today, when I first saw this Adonis of a dude tiptoe into my rather dull, vanilla existence. HE is the reason behind the spring in my every step come Monday mornings. So tell me about Monday morning blues. My heart skips a beat though, if I don't see him waiting in his usual place. I am not the one to travel in to work on public transport.Lately, however; his aura and my libido are working in a tearing hurry to make me use public transport more oftener and in the process, earning me much valued carbon credits.
No, there hasn't been exactly an exchange of speech between us let alone a shaking of hands or exchange of body fluids yet. I am not certain I even inhabit his mental and visual field of vision. But I have a way of working backward from my assumptions and presuppositions, and leaving Nature to do the rest.
The Metro has never seemed more romantic and tantalizingly erotic to me before. I am all confused in my head:do opposites attract or do birds of the same feather still bunk together in 2011?
He is tall, lean and athletic; clean shaven and blue eyed - need I
say any more? And I am just well me - stodgy, bronzed, moustached, with an ellipsoid waist to boot and a (je ne sais quoi) morbid after glow :)
media or the advertising space.I wear casual formals with transition lenses to work and deal with stiffs and their innards. He works in the City whereas I am a City Boy who works out-of-town.Not much of a common denominator there.
What are the odds our erogenous zones will ever cross? I 'd say about one in a
trillion. Regardless, my bosom is ignited with hope and cheer: my thoughts are mine alone, and he shall take permanent residence in the hall of my erotic thoughts. No one but no one can take thoughts of him away from me save dementia, recreational drug use, accidental injury or the Kind Mother from Heaven.
So what is it going to take for me to be on his smart phone wallpaper?? I
imagine, quite a lot actually.Could he even be aware of the sensual designs I have of him? Is there something I can do to engineer all of this? Well, perhaps perhaps perhaps.
I could offer him a ride in my Mini, on a particularly bad day for commuter trains and he could actually say, oui! Only he is not a Gigolo and I am a salaryman and can't therefore reach deep into my pocketbook to satiate us both in all manner of you know what.......fondness, of course! :)
La-di-da, if this isn't Love Actually; don't know what else can it be?!
At best, do let's call it (a one sided) " Affair to Remember - Absent the Bromide."
posted by Men Who Do Cleavages at 10:24 am
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