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To the insanely hot guy I saw at the bank. w4m
First saw you in a bank, although I realized from your attire that you worked at the grocery store I frequent. I remember repeatedly sneaking glances over at you as the bank teller I was interacting with droned on and on in pointless small talk. I didn't want you to catch me looking, so I steadfastly kept my gaze on your arms throughout the transaction. You have the sexiest forearms (and everything else) that I have ever seen.
Ever since then, I see you periodiy at the grocery store where you work. It's one of those quirky, health-focused grocery stores; a flourishing staple of Portland. But, you're nothing like the typical Portland guy. You don't have a beard, you don't wear stupid hipster outfits or thick edgy glasses or plaid. You're usually sporting some sexy stubble, and you have beautiful eyes with long lovely lashes. Sometimes I think I catch you noticing me, but then I assure myself it must have just been a fluke - you are way too hot to just stand around checking someone like me out, of that I have no delusions. I am a decently attractive woman, don't get me wrong, but you are far, far more attractive.
I managed to convince myself that a man as good-looking as you is almost certainly going to be an arrogant, douchey jerk. Incidentally, this is the trouble with hot guys: most of them have been hot their entire lives - they just wake up every day looking crazy good with literally zero effort. That kind of power almost always turns a person into an asshole. Women, on the other hand... although some women are hot their entire lives, many women grow up okay-looking and then attain attractiveness through a thorough (or in my case, half-assed) and hard-earned understanding of diet, exercise, fashion trends, makeup application, skincare, hair styling, so on and so forth. That shit gives you a sense of perspective.
Anyways, I digress. I consoled myself with this expectation, and avoided interacting with you. But then recently, on a whim, light-headed from smoking and emboldened by the presence of a friend of mine, I engaged you in conversation. I was acting nervous and making stupid comments, which despite my best efforts is how I always act around cute guys (unless I'm extremely drunk! alcohol: helping humans get laid since the stone age). Yet you were so nice, seemingly unperturbed by my behavior, and had this inexplicably wonderful voice. And now I stupidly can't stop thinking about you. Not in an innocently romantic, daydreamy, butterflies-in-my-stomach way. Let's just say I think about you nightly rather than daily.
But, although I do want to, I have no intention of attempting to interact with you again. It might not seem like it, because I have gotten really good beautiful ladies wants sex dating Philadelphia Pennsylvania at camouflaging myself and blending in among the abundance of dressy girls with glossy hair and manicured fingernails who manage to be outgoing, commitment-wanting, aesthetiy preoccupied, "in tune with other people's feelings" or what the fuck ever women are generally described as, but I am nothing like that. I've managed to look the part, though, and usually I can bullshit my way through most things, but there are some situations in which I cannot hide that what I really am is an incredibly introverted, socially awkward nerd who reads books about math for fun and spends way too much time playing video games. Attempting to flirt with you, even while inebriated, would undoubtedly prove to be one of those situations, and I'd rather be left to entertain hopeful fantasies than certain of your disinterest.
I'm not hoping you will read this - in fact, I would be horrified and embarrassed if you did. So why am I even posting this? Well, what can I say? I once read that "the need to express is very strong". I think that must be true.
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Latina looking for fun!
Latina here looking for a fun masculine hot guy for safe fun! Lets have some fun! Reply with a or i wont reply 
