Last summer I was in the Mediterranean and I had to take a short ferry-boat trip to an island.
The day was hot and sunny. Having to wait for almost an hour for the next departure I opened the roof of my convertible and got rid of my T-shirt so I could get some tan on my small, smooth, trim body. (I know you hate this part but that's what I am, a 45 year old man with boyish looks...).
While I was waiting in the car line on the embarcadero I noticed an elderly couple just behind me in their camper. She was a thin freckled woman with an attractive Kate Hepburn like weather worn face and unable to keep her mouth shut for a second since she was chatting all the time to the husband.
Oh boy! The husband! HE was something. Peering into the rearview mirror I could only see his face, his upper torso and forearms resting on the steering wheel, but wasn't that enough to set me boiling!
He was the polar bear if there ever was one. White trimmed beard on a pleasant face topped with thinning short white hair, and silver hair with golden streaks on his forearms: lots of it. He wore a short sleeved azure shirt that was unbuttoned as far as I could see and from it fluffed out a forest of white hair like a cloud in a blue sky. And to add to my suffering the man was tanned, which made his white fur look even better by contrast.
I turned back and peered more closely, pretending I was trying to see how long the line was behind me.
The day was hot and sunny. Having to wait for almost an hour for the next departure I opened the roof of my convertible and got rid of my T-shirt so I could get some tan on my small, smooth, trim body. (I know you hate this part but that's what I am, a 45 year old man with boyish looks...).
While I was waiting in the car line on the embarcadero I noticed an elderly couple just behind me in their camper. She was a thin freckled woman with an attractive Kate Hepburn like weather worn face and unable to keep her mouth shut for a second since she was chatting all the time to the husband.
Oh boy! The husband! HE was something. Peering into the rearview mirror I could only see his face, his upper torso and forearms resting on the steering wheel, but wasn't that enough to set me boiling!
He was the polar bear if there ever was one. White trimmed beard on a pleasant face topped with thinning short white hair, and silver hair with golden streaks on his forearms: lots of it. He wore a short sleeved azure shirt that was unbuttoned as far as I could see and from it fluffed out a forest of white hair like a cloud in a blue sky. And to add to my suffering the man was tanned, which made his white fur look even better by contrast.
I turned back and peered more closely, pretending I was trying to see how long the line was behind me.