Hot Bicep Guy

If you are a guy and we haven’t slept together yet I’m still talking to you AND I dedicate an entire post to you, you can bet that I am going to fuck the ever loving shit out of you you are pretty darn special.

Case in point, Hot Bicep Guy.

In case any of you have missed it, not only has HBG been occupying my (wet) dreams but also my Facebook and Twitter pages:

Tuesday, June 1st:

11:53am - Once again, just confirmed that I am completely incapable of having a coherent conversation with someone sporting amazing biceps and buns.

Friday, June 4th:

2:58pm - Just learned that since I left work early I missed hot bicep guy coming by to cut rock. Yes, I said cut rock. Who cares why?

Today, Thursday, June 10th:

9:30am - Dear Sex Gods, Please let hot bicep guy come by the office to cut rock BEFORE I leave the office today instead of after like the last two times. Kthxbye.

**The Sex Gods answered my prayers. Water was turned on (as was I), power tools were brought out and rock was cut**

12:00pm - Oh God...boss just ran out to arm wrestle hot bicep guy. Best. Job. Ever.

2:00pm - Ok, for those keeping tabs...hot bicep guy asked for my Facebook. Is that the 2010 version of asking for one's phone number? Either way, he will end up disrobed. Just sayin...

So, if I do the math, I’ve invested 10 days into this relationship. Assuming that’s the equivalent of approximately 3 dates, it’s time we did the horizontal mambo. He owes me. And he’s going to pay me. In penis.

I spent a full hour today in what can only be described as the most fun one can have with their clothes on. As if the Gods above had read my mind and answered my prayers, along came the construction truck with 185 lbs of pure muscle and 6% body fat tucked neatly inside its cab.

Time stopped. I watched as HBG jumped out of the truck and went over to inspect the slabs of rock waiting to be cut.

Wait, did he just look back at the office window? Oh yeah…it’s on like Donkey Kong!

Never mind that I was smiling like a Cheshire Cat. So? I was hungry and he was lunch.

I’m sorry, did my boss just ask me to do something? Not possible as there are only two people in this daydream. Me and HBG.

Shit, boss is talking to me but I can’t understand a word he’s saying. He may as well be speaking in Greek because at the moment I can’t even remember my own name, let alone how to type up a letter.

Still staring, I watch as HBG and his helper turn on the hose and saw. Things are getting wet (I love puns). His back is to me and all I see are muscles contracting and heavy equipment being used. He’s cutting then lifting the heavy slabs of rock into the back of his truck. The only thing missing is me, straddling the rock slabs in a white t-shirt.

Am I dead? Because this MUST be what heaven is like.

Uh oh, I’m drooling. Boss saw it and looked out the window.

Boss: What? You lookin’ at HBG?

Me: bholysoudtoaopshhdfgjslhg?

Boss: You know, I’m stronger than him. I can beat him at arm wrestling *heading for the door*

Me: bholysoudtoaopshhdfgjslhg…*following close behind*

I’m not about to miss two guys playing “who’s got the bigger penis” for my benefit.

They wrestle, I giggle and the boss concedes to a bad wrist. I now know who has the bigger penis.

Oops, time’s up. Time to leave work and head to job #2.

Boss: Can you stay for a few more minutes?

Me: Nope

Like a cougar stalking her prey I hightail it out of the office to go attack my unwitting victim.

With a grin and a wave HBG asks if I’m leaving. That’s my que. I got this. I just hope I didn’t leave claw marks when I pounced.

Some small talk and a Facebook invite later, the door has been opened.

Stay tuned…

The 40 Year Old Virgin

I almost ate my date the other night. I only wish I was joking.

I was recently referred to as a cougar. Not in the traditional sense but because I actually eat men.

But before I get too far ahead of myself let me take you back to the beginning before I almost devoured my victi…date, yes, that’s what I meant…my date.

Six days ago…

Me (In my head): Wait…did I just hear that right? No, I couldn’t have. Let me ask him again…

Me (Into the phone): “What do you want to see me wear?”

Me (In my head): Oh God, he did say it…

Him: “Spandex”

Me (In my head): Oh fantastic, he’s elaborating in the event I’m confused…

Him: “You know, like bicycle shorts”

Me (Into the phone): Hmph

Me (In my head): Yeah, this date is going to be fantastic. I wonder if he’d also like me to wear leg warmers and a side pony tail. I bet if I look hard enough, I may be able to find an old “Op” T-shirt and my pink pair of “LA Gears”.

Six months prior to Spandex-gate was the first time the 40 Year Old Virgin entered the picture. After our initial correspondences I sort of forgot about him. He was a nice looking man and seemed decent. I was just in the midst of a dating burn out. He would call me every month or so to no avail and really, the only reason I decided to call him back was due to a severe case of Cabin Fever and boredom combined with my need for new meat.

The very day I called him back he returned my call three times. Ah yes, now I remember why we never met…he talked too fucking much. His over exuberance seemed more out of nervousness than lack of manners. I only hoped that he didn’t act like a junior highschooler on our date. Cute, yes, but still slightly annoying. But as is usually the case with me, biceps won over logic and common sense. One of these days I’ll learn. I hope.

He was your typical Persian/Assyrian in that he actually still lived at home. No joke. At 10:45 his mom actually called to see why he was out so late. Again, I’m not joking. If I hadn’t had a history with men of Middle Eastern persuasion I would have been switching my heels for a pair of running shoes. But again, biceps and lack of anything better to do won out.

He was yet another personal trainer and did some work in movies. He was a bit of a name dropper but I’m not sure if he was actually being conceited or still just nervous and trying to impress me. I figured if he got too obnoxious on our date, there was nothing a boob in the mouth couldn’t fix.

Present Day

When I drove up to our meeting place and saw him standing outside I almost crashed from trying to kick myself. I could have met this stud muffin six months earlier?!? Who’s the nerd now? Me.

Beautiful body, had all his teeth, gorgeous eyes and eyelashes so long they tickled me when we talked. Two words…DE. LISH! That’s when I started to play a little game in my head I like to call “How long before I can get his shirt off?” If I ever meet a mind reader, I’m in trouble.

Knowing his love for thick women, I jokingly asked if my ass was big enough. He looked behind me and with a slight grin responded, “Hmm, almost”. He said I was perfect and very beautiful and even a little too thin. I have NEVER been considered too skinny. This reason alone is why we are getting married this spring.

The rest of the night was amazing. He was nervous and polite, enamored and a pleasure to look at. We made out like teenagers and yes, I did get his shirt off. This is where I almost devoured him. If we had had the correct preparations I would have hit that shit like Lennox Lewis in a Tyson fight.

All night he made mention of the places he wanted to take me. He wanted to see me again. He wanted to see me soon. He wanted to see me the very next night. As he walked me to my car he asked that I call him the next day to set up a time.

The next day I called.

And texted.

And tried one last time to call.

Then I got this:

“Sorry hun! I had a little bit of family trouble, and drama! I’ll call u tomorrow! Be safe babe. Talk to u soon”

What the fuck?!?

Completely confused I found myself suddenly 35 times more attracted to him than before. Never more than in that moment was it so obvious how I wanted what wasn’t so easily handed to me. Damn him. My girlfriend summed it up…

“Wow, a dick you didn’t conquer right away!”

I don’t know about you but that sounds like a challenge.

Stay tuned for Part 2 because there WILL be a Part 2 if I have anything to do with it… ;-)

Sincerely, The Older Woman

Meet Joe. He’s 23, short, lives in New York and has this to say in his profile:

Interests: Looking for a long term relationship with no bs or drama.

First Date: Depends on the mood. I can do both. I like to go out to dinner and a movie or we can stay in a watch it and order out.

He’s a “Personal Trainer; Cashier” and looking for a long term relationship. No kids and undecided/open about the prospect of having any.

His email to me:

"Hello my name is Joe. I was just browsing thru some profiles in when I came across your page. I think your a very hot older woman and since this is an online dating site I thought that maybe you would be interested to talk. If you are you can hit me up on yahoo at sadist666 or msn at seriouslysadistic (Yes, I just made those up). I have a cam on there so you can see more of me if you want. Hope to talk to you soon. Bye."

This is what I take away after reading his profile and email:

1. He’s not a fan of proofreading.
2. He’s very original. We can go to dinner and a movie or stay in and watch one with take-out. How clever.
3. He doesn’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re”. Which happens to be a personal pet peeve of mine along with “there”, “their” and “they’re”.
4. He’s a master of the obvious. This is an online dating site? Really? Oh shit, that explains a lot.
5. “I have a cam…so you can see more of me” really means “I’m going to pull out my junk within minutes of Instant Messaging with you.”
6. His pictures scream more cashier and less personal trainer.

What his profile didn’t mention was that he’s clearly into sadomasochism. After reading his email last night it’s quite obvious that he’s looking for a beating. Also, I’m 31, people!!! I’m not a “cougar”. I’m not “past my prime” and my biological clock is “not ticking”.

What I am, is someone that’s about to school Mr. Joe on what manners are. Ok, not really. I’m just going to do what I do best. And that’s make him cry. He’s still a puppy and needs to be trained. If he ever has a chance of getting laid, Joe needs to learn how to talk to women because “Joe momma” (hehe) didn’t teach him very well.

Dear Joe,

I would have responded last night but I couldn’t find my bifocals. While I’m flattered (not really) that you would take the time to write me, I’m going to have to pass on your invitation to talk and view your webcam. Also, I live in California and find that a 4000 mile commute is a bitch.

But, feel free to contact me if you’re ever in the area, you’ve grown six inches and have successfully completed puberty.

Till then, good luck in your cougar search.

Sincerely,
The Older Woman