"Why not?"
It was a weekday, closer to the weekend, either a Thursday or a Friday. I had flown in during the afternoon from the city and I was tired because it was before when my neighbor upstairs had gone into labor and I'd confused her for a raving, possibly lunatic, drunk. It was only after I had gone to the that I realized she was screaming for a new life and the bum on the corner must have realized this too because he hobbled over and said: "Congratulations." I went back to bed, crawled inside the covers, as her husband helped her into the car and two hours later I left for JFK to fly to Vermont. An old friend picked me up from the airport and on the ride to J--, we shared updates and laughed. We decided, on this ride, that it would have been helpful if Freud's theories on sexuality were taught in high . Armed with the ammunition of this information, it would have been with complete earnestness that I would have turned to a friend, by my latest crush, and would have been able to say: "Oh my gawd, . He doesn't want to be my boyfriend because he totally has an complex and wants to fuck his Mom. Duh." This would be before Lacan. They would teach that in college. I was not prepared to meet you. So, anyway, it was during this ride that we drove past you and my old friend said: "That's A--." And I nearly broke my neck turning around to keep looking at you and when you saw me so obvious, I blushed and laughed and buried my face in my hands. I spent the rest of the weekend trying not to fantasize about the moments that I had imagined we shared over dinner later that night even as I sat in a cafe in another town, B--, dressed in all black typing at a grey computer with a woman in pink fleece and a pink laptop and a pink immediately situated to my right (and I tugged at the sleeves of my black sweatshirt to cover my even more black tattoos). The humor of the situation did not escape me and I had wished that I could share it with you. I guess I felt out-of-place without someone to witness with me too. The day I was leaving you came and sat next to me at the local cafe in J--. You'd given a larger group your table. When I offered you the seat next to me, you said you hadn't wanted to disturb me (I was seriously absorbed in my writing). I assured you that it was no trouble at all: "It's no trouble at all." In the minutes that passed, I tried to concentrate on my hands that trembled slightly when I raised my cup filled with coffee to my lips. I did not want to betray how my nerves felt about you. You scribbled thoughtfully into your notebook. You hugged me goodbye because you said: "Why not?" And my old friend drove me to the airport and I flew back to the city and we haven't spoken since.
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i am a man that just wants to please women. i know there are women who are on here that appreciate that, but they live in inaccessible areas; add on that i can't drive and i can't host, that's a recipe for never getting anything. only once did i find a woman that worked with me through all of these setbacks: we didn't exactly do what we wanted to, bit it was something. all i'm hoping for in 2014 is to have more interactions with women/mf couples that are willing/able to travel host a cunnilingus master.
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About
"Why not?" It was a weekday, closer to the weekend, either a Thursday or a Friday. I had flown in during the afternoon from the city and I was tired because it was before when my neighbor upstairs had gone into labor and I'd confused her for a raving, possibly lunatic, drunk. It was only after I had gone to the that I realized she was screaming for a new life and the bum on the corner must have realized this too because he hobbled over and said: "Congratulations." I went back to bed, crawled inside the covers, as her husband helped her into the car and two hours later I left for JFK to fly to Vermont. An old friend picked me up from the airport and on the ride to J--, we shared updates and laughed. We decided, on this ride, that it would have been helpful if Freud's theories on sexuality were taught in high . Armed with the ammunition of this information, it would have been with complete earnestness that I would have turned to a friend, by my latest crush, and would have been able to say: "Oh my gawd, . He doesn't want to be my boyfriend because he totally has an complex and wants to fuck his Mom. Duh." This would be before Lacan. They would teach that in college. I was not prepared to meet you. So, anyway, it was during this ride that we drove past you and my old friend said: "That's A--." And I nearly broke my neck turning around to keep looking at you and when you saw me so obvious, I blushed and laughed and buried my face in my hands. I spent the rest of the weekend trying not to fantasize about the moments that I had imagined we shared over dinner later that night even as I sat in a cafe in another town, B--, dressed in all black typing at a grey computer with a woman in pink fleece and a pink laptop and a pink immediately situated to my right (and I tugged at the sleeves of my black sweatshirt to cover my even more black tattoos). The humor of the situation did not escape me and I had wished that I could share it with you. I guess I felt out-of-place without someone to witness with me too. The day I was leaving you came and sat next to me at the local cafe in J--. You'd given a larger group your table. When I offered you the seat next to me, you said you hadn't wanted to disturb me (I was seriously absorbed in my writing). I assured you that it was no trouble at all: "It's no trouble at all." In the minutes that passed, I tried to concentrate on my hands that trembled slightly when I raised my cup filled with coffee to my lips. I did not want to betray how my nerves felt about you. You scribbled thoughtfully into your notebook. You hugged me goodbye because you said: "Why not?" And my old friend drove me to the airport and I flew back to the city and we haven't spoken since.
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unfair settings i am a man that just wants to please women. i know there are women who are on here that appreciate that, but they live in inaccessible areas; add on that i can't drive and i can't host, that's a recipe for never getting anything. only once did i find a woman that worked with me through all of these setbacks: we didn't exactly do what we wanted to, bit it was something. all i'm hoping for in 2014 is to have more interactions with women/mf couples that are willing/able to travel host a cunnilingus master.
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oh and is for now
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You must live in the U.S.A. and be at least 21 plus in age. because I am 43
Not in a rush at all prefer to for a bit first to get to know each other at first.
Thanks write soon.