Mr Tall Dark and Incredibly Wrong

He's tall, he's dark, he's handsome. He's funny. He's smart. He's part Italian and part Persian, has a gorgeous accent, and  comes from Dubai, the city of glitter.

Did I mention he lives here?

Wouldn't you know that before I'm even fully engulfed in my physical goal, another goal shows up. I haven't even put it in writing yet -- a factor all the experts say you must do. Yes, I want a relationship, too.

For our first date a few weeks back he asked that I wear a little black dress with cleavage and leg, Chanel eau verte, and fuck me boots (ecusez-moi pour ma français). 

The fm boots also had to be black. 

I had pearls, though he would of preferred Tiffany's. He had other requests as well -- but let's not get distracted in details.

I asked how he knew so much as to be able to ask for so many specifics (especially the perfume) and he said he'd dated a lot of high maintenance girls. 

This is my first high maintenance man. 

So we went out to dinner and it was fun. A quiet little restaurant on a cold and snowy night. We've had very little snow all winter, but on this night it was there. And it was perfect. And, the dress was perfect, the perfume was perfect, the boots were perfect, even the pearls were perfect. And, of course, the man was perfect. Later we cuddled together and had the most incredibly intimate talk. There were other things as well -- but let's not get distracted in details.

Did I mention he's Mr. Incredibly Wrong?

The reason is simple. 

We figured it out after several heated discussions: I'm looking for Mr. Right and he's looking for Ms. Right Now. The difference between the two is that one is about a long-term relationship and one is about sex. Only. A lot of it. Without commitments.

We have an amazing attraction and an amazing bond. But we've decided to be friends. Only. Still the question of sex keeps coming up and I may have to let this one go. This coming weekend may be the deciding point.

Maybe I should put this goal in writing after-all.