I was out on a jog. I was running past a cute, tall and blonde guy. He waved at me, bid me to stop.
He said: "Hi. I've met you somewhere, right?"
I replied: "I've heard that one before. You're cute, want to go again?"
He laughed at me. We started talking. Turns out that I do know him from before. He plays football with my friends from high school. I've seen him play a dozen times, but I've never really paid him any attention. Why? He's chin-dropping gorgeous! Athletic build, a blonde beard (again with the beard!), light blue-green eyes and beautiful, wavy blonde hair.
I wiped the excess drool from my chin (metaphorically, I don't drool in real life) when he asked me to join him for dinner. We had so much fun. I didn't finish my plate before it got cold, I was talking so much.
He's my boy next door. He's sweet, polite, kind and always smiling when he's with me. I feel 16 years old when I'm with him. I can almost hear my Dad yelling at me when I'm kissing Mister Orange on my sofa. Oh yeah, I named him Mister Orange because he was wearing orange and brown striped socks when he came by. Sexy, I know.
I like him, but I find him a bit too polite sometimes. Feels like he has to ask permission to touch me. But when he does, it's just pure magic. He has big hands and he knows how to use them. My girlfriends keep asking me if we've done it already. Yeah, we have. Twice. He's extremely good at what he does. Brains-splattered-on-the-wall kind of good.
He's also definite boyfriend material, although I do know that he's dating a lot of other girls. But who am I to judge? I'm seeing 5-6 guys every week, a few of them twice a week.
My Mum doesn't know about all my adventures, thankfully. I've told her about Mister Orange and Mister Yellow. Mum is excited about Mister Orange, I guess she thinks I'm seeing him almost every day. I could, since he lives next door, but I'm a busy Kitty ;)