49 [M4F] #CostaMesa - BM for a particular WW
I’ll start by admitting that this is a complete fantasy and although I’m not proud of that fact, it’s the truth. I’m 49, black, single and living in SoCal. Fortunately, there is no shortage of the type of white woman I’m enamored with, but this type of woman doesn’t typically date interracially, so it remains an unfilled fantasy.
My dream woman is between 40 and 60, fit (but not a gym rat) and is usually wearing workout clothes from Alo or Lululemon. She likely has her hair in a ponytail or her pixie haircut is hiding under a well-worn ball cap that frames her face. She wears little to no makeup, but has a skin regiment that keeps her looking vibrant and youthful. She usually has one of those large Stanley tumblers in one hand and her phone in the other. She always has a look of urgency, even when she’s getting coffee or shopping. She smiles, but usually it’s a transactional reflex more than an intentional act. She displays muted signs of wealth like a simple David Yurman bracelet or an Oura ring.
She avoids eye contact, mostly because she’s deep in her head about a series of tasks she never has time to complete. All of her basic needs are met, but she’s always retrospective about being good enough.
If I’m honest, I’m not trying to disrupt her perfect, suburban life with my presence. I love that she’s isolated herself in socio-economic and cultural spaces that limit her worldview. It’s her unfettered optimism that makes her so sexy.
No, I’d love to be her escape. A moment in time on her well-organized, color-coded Outlook calendar that marks the date and time of our salacious rendezvous. For a few hours a week, she gets to leave her life and her lists behind. She gets to be the recipient of pleasure, not the sole creator of everyone else’s comfort. She gets to allow herself to dive deep into carnal fantasies without damaging the world she’s created. Just the thought of the juxtaposition of my hand touching her pale, expensively moisturized skin excites me.
Then, when it’s over, she goes back to her busy life, juggling all the things and people she’s responsible for. But occasionally, she allows her mind to wander and reminisce as she stares off into space, gently tugging at her Van Cleef necklace and biting her lip.
At this point, I’m losing hope that my fantasy will ever come to fruition. For now, I’m grateful to Starbucks, outside shopping centers, expensive grocery stores, and farmer’s markets for being the preferred destination of my dream woman.
As a successful, attractive man in LA, I don’t really struggle with dating, but this specific archetype seems consistently out of my reach. If I’m ever lucky enough to convince one of these ladies to venture outside of their comfort zones for a bit, I’ll be eternally grateful.
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