Hey you. I see you have a new profile. Would be great to catch up again sometime x
Hey Alex. Good to hear from you but I’m afraid Ellie is a well behaved missy and doesn’t visit young men for afternoon sex 😉
Hehe. How’ve you been anyway? x
I’m pretty good cheers. Got tired of all that crazy sex. What about you?
Well it’s fun sometimes. Yeah I’m not bad thanks, was dating for a bit but split up now so not sure what I’ll do next. How’s good Amy getting on then?
Amy is writing her memoirs and Ellie is dating one at a time but nowhere near thinking about having sex with any of her new beaus yet .
Hehe sounds interesting. Well as long as you’re enjoying the new direction then that’s great.
Did I make the memoirs? x
Hahaha you’ll have to send me them when it’s done
And if you have a moment of weakness and need a little top up on crazy it would be great to see you again x
That’s really sweet of you. I won’t forget.
Well I hope you don’t as it would be nice to get to know you better if nothing else .
Alex was a sweetie, over a decade and a half younger than me and obviously broadcasting oats where the wind will take them. He accepts without being pushy that I was not interested in having sex for the sake of it anymore.
The latest beau chatting Ellie up at the moment lives in hipsterville and used to sport the facial hair which was a requirement of that region – that was his profile photo on the dating site. The picture he sent me shows a clean-shaven respectable looking man. He paints oils and loves his cat, once a rescue kitten he calls Pepper – she’s a sweet looking tabby. The photos and videos we exchange are very circumspect – of our pets, the flora and fauna in our vicinity and things which we think the other might like the look of; the only hint of the risqué in our conversation might be an occasional double entendre and a winking smiley to show that we were skirting dangerous waters and having a laugh about it. Like Ellie he too has grown tired of day-old relationships.
We have arranged to meet up next Wednesday evening and in the interim we’ve been behaving like a couple of teenagers texting madly throughout the day over the last several days. Of course he has a mountain bike, as well as one of those serious looking coffee machines in his kitchen (I’ve seen a photo of it) and knows his ranunculus from his ivy, but quite unusually, is neither a vegan nor a vegetarian. Thankfully, he seems quite normal in a creatively untidy fashion and we both like the same drinks. It goes without saying that we agree on our politics but don’t feel the need to campaign for a change anywhere. The only thing giving me pause is that he sometimes calls me honey, darling and sweetie but I feel I could hardly object since I’ve not even given him my real name.