Congratulations, it's a big, healthy, bouncy boy. Ben. The newest one, the one left standing, of the three I was seeing, post cull.
He’s bouncy because he’s young, under my lower age limit, at 25. Like a big puppy, in a lot of ways.
He's big, because he’s tall, over my height limit at 6.1.
All my boyfriends have been older, or younger, than me, though, so I don’t really see age gaps. I’ve never been aware of them with older, or younger, boyfriends. Manny was, actually, the closest in age, just two years.
They’ve all been the same height as me too, now I think about it.
Twenty five year olds have lots of energy, now don't they. But, it’s not necessarily a bad thing, probably good, actually. I can be a lazy bastard, truthfully.
He’s tall, dark and handsome, so what’s not to like, hey? I don’t even mind that he’s taller than me, like I normally do. I’m 5.10, so I guess it’s only a matter of a few inches.
He said he was a pup, when we first met, so that’s what I call him. He calls me sir, because it makes him laugh. Then he tries to cute me out with puppy faces, often it works.
He’s employed, he has a life, friends, a car, things to do, people to see... which is always good.
He’s sweet and funny. He flies aeroplanes, so I call him my Flyboy. I haven’t seen him in his uniform, yet, but that could prove to be hours of fun, in itself.
He’s got great hair.
He’s a good kisser.
He’s cheeky.
He’s got a nice smile.
A nice smile, good kisser and makes me laugh, my three non-negotiables for a fella. My only must-haves for a bloke.
He’s got good teeth.
He’s got many good bits, actually.
He’s enthusiastic, with a love of life. A good antidote for my natural cynicism.
We play well together.
4 comments:
Finally...you've managed to whittle three down to one! I thought it would never happen.
Me either. It took concentrated effort.
He sounds nice.
He is
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