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50, somewhere

Profile image of theartoftouch

Living Together, Athletic body
6'0'' (183cm) or above
Looking for: See how it goes

Other,  Non-Smoker,  Non-Drinker

Occupation:  Other
Education:  Graduate/Masters Degree
Eye Colour:  Grey
Hair Colour:  Brown
Religion:  Other

Looking for Female between the ages of 23 and 60

Star Sign: Taurus
Last Active: Within 2 Days

About Me:

Short: busy professional who seeks like-minded partner-in-crime for discreet companionship intentionally tactile, tantric and patient.


The art of touch. Does one need to say more?

Tall, fit, take life seriously but with laughter, humor and a light touch. It means I will take you seriously, listen, touch, joke and care within the limits provided. Enjoyment we seek. Am a tall fit brown-haired version of DL (initials of an actor).

Given our surroundings, propose to meet casually for an activity in a public space that is rewarding whether or not there is a mental or physical chemistry between us. We can take it from there by meeting each other as strangers, accidentally, while talking about what we see during our activity. So prefer to meet in person and see you in 3D -

While living in Manchester, we meet elsewhere. Work brings us at Leeds, Sheffield or Wakefield, Cambridge. These cities have plenty of public activities where we can meet and walk around casually as if we are, and we are, just strangers having a conversation.

Not being a fan of 2D conversation, we limit our electronic exchange to a minimum. Again, prefer to meet in person and see you in 3D. Simply choose the above and enjoy or pass by and reject. Meeting will be civilised and pleasant. In principle no sharing of images.

No texting, unsafe; we make a bespoke protonmail account at some point after some chatting here with a pen-name and safe provider . We understand that such matters are important and part of being civilised and respectful.

If you are not from around my neck of the wood, then I generally don't reply. Oh, I like to sing by the way, funny and dirty songs. The latter songs generally being sexist I modify them to apply to the male sex to balance out matters. Join in if you wish and can handle it.

Somewhere being between liberal and socialist, I don't like excessive capitalism (-), which you understand when you are clever enough to catch my drift.

Hi, hi, suppose the above is the long-winded way of saying: someone normal and with common sense, which is indeed not the norm. Edoc-woleb. Confusing, isn't it?

Ideal Partner:

Full body embrace

There will be a time
when all we can do
is lie still in a
full body embrace.

Too tired to come
too tactile in touch/to rush
listening quiet to
each others’ heartbeats.

There will be a time
when all we can do
is lie still in a
full body embrace.

Your Taste

You tasted like olives
you are my olive tree
you tasted like liquorice
you are my liquorice root
you tasted like brazil nut
you are my brazil bush
you tasted like scallops
you are my shell fish too,
which master chef could blend your taste?
Thus all above you are none,
you just tasted like Tristina,
uniquely goddess mine.

Fatamorgana or or Theangelofdeceit

The woman who I mistook for my Isis
never was, never was my true love,
only a fata morgana amiss,
one kiss for my real love isn't enough.

Sex is togetherness, otherwise rape,
deceitfully cruel for both of our minds,
it is, it is for the rest of one life,
when I loved you were my fata morgana.

I made love to the moon last night

Midnight last night I made love to the moon
exploring her crustal highlands and maria
seeking solace in her craters’ varia,
our moonlit bodies curved into a spoon.

Distracting: yes, still (too) stunned by it all
I liked the way you firmly intervened
your hands tenderly fixating my head
ever so softly over valley pleasure.

Finally, you came rumbling and trembling
your self-eruptive coming out to me
your eyes closed for minutes, a memory,
while distant, still awestruck, that makes me cry.

Did you see the face of the moon last night?
it shone over our villages’ valleys miles apart,
mirroring our faces, messaging our wishes
midnight last night I made love to the moon.


We have to exit by ourselves, despite
my virtual holding hands, because your pain
remains all yours, because my pain, despite
affections yours, felt mentally, is mine.

We are alone both you and me, even
though, telepathically, beat by beat,
my thoughts, our minds, will hardly skip a day
in which, we pass unnoticed by our dreams.

We lost a friend and lover, each, we took
our sexuality unearthly far
astray on wonderful addictive paths
yet we could not keep up our partner ship.

Whatever the outcome battling our pain
our past remains our past, for good or bad
I am afraid our parting, harsh, will be
forever: time, be good, be good to her/me.

ThE above is fiction (not by me --bpW, what's in a Name; angels or not, anything goes); the female or events in the poems do not exist. Isis was the goddess of the Nile, with ger cycle of fertile flood waters.

Other Interests:

Volunteer / Charity

Gifts Received Recently :

Silk Boxer Shorts Bottle of Wine Tumbler of Whiskey Silver Cufflinks A Feather A Feather

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