He was beautiful . . . .

but I sure didn't expect it.
I've met other of his kin before, my friends with whom I share Tuesday night dinner. I've met his kin before, and they ain't beautiful. His older brother is handsome in a distinctly himself sort of way, but I'm always attracted to money - so a doctor with a young blonde girlfriend and a hot little sportscar - but this ain't him. . . . . I've seen pictures of nephews and I've met neices and what not and they're not really attractive, so when John said his other nephew was in town visiting the grandmother, I didn't envision anyone pretty but I told him to spare that boy right away another night at his grandmothers (even though I love the lady and think she's a hoot) and call him to come over for supper. A few minutes later, John was off to pick up the 20 year old nephew, referring to him as "pretty boy" which caught my attention. . . . and "pretty" didn't touch it. I spent the better part of the next two hours trying to figure any discreet way to snap a picture o'the boy, but alas, there's just not enough happening with dinner for four to pull it off. Square jaw line, brown hair, deep sexy voice, nice choice of sweater, pants and shoes. . . and when he stood up - he must have been hiding a barnyard animal and going commando because it was swinging.

Knowing that, even if the guy had been gay, I probably haven't stood a chance with him in 20 years, I still thought, "I would cheat, spend my life denying I ever cheated, and probably never regret it." Just too beautiful to pass up.

Or as I sometimes tell My Fella, "If you got the chance, you damn well better do him - and if any way possible, provide me with photo's or a streaming webcam."