Men are odd creatures.
No truer words have ever been spoken.
It seems that in this age of instantaneous communication, men are more ravenous to greet and meat: Translation: “How ya’ doing? Great, let’s fuck.”
But in my romantic world order, civility come first. I understand the yearning of intimacy; I know the pangs of longing; I feel the ache of empty beds.
Whatever happened to drinks and dinner? A picnic in a garden? A late evening cigar and whiskey?
It has nothing to do with age: All men want to be wooed. Otters and pups alike desire to be with men of age. Think back to the homosocial relationship of Ancient Greece.
So now I’m off to lunch with a named Kevin