the apple of my eye

So I've gotta tell you about this guy I met online tonight. He wasn't the first one I talked to - he was actually the third. I knew the first one was a complete waste of time. He sounded young, like he'd heard other guys talk about stuff. He couldn't even fake it, but I couldn't fault him for trying . It was as if he was searching for the G spot with a little flashlight in the biggest , you should pardon the expression, cave he 'd ever seen.

After about forty-eight minutes the guy just flat gave up and said how sorry, how embarrassed he was that he couldn't - "Well, you know," he stammered. He said that if I didn't mind, since I'd been so patient and all, he said he had a friend who could help me - a guy, he said, with more experience.

As frustrated as I was, I tried to be kind. "It happens to everyone from time to time. Uh, what did you say your friend's name was?"

"Rex."

"Rex?"

"Yah, Rex. You know - rhymes with . . .

"Gotcha," I said.

Rex did sound more experienced - I could tell he'd been doing this for awhile just by the way he knew to make it seem like I was the only one he'd spoken to all day. He asked the right questions that evoked the right answers. He knew exactly what I needed and he had a aura of self-confidence that made me feel so comfortable giving him my phone number in case we got disconnected. What a fool I was! We did get disconnected, but he never called back. Could it be that he wasn't getting what he needed from me after all? I was devastated . . .

. . . but only temporarily. I trampled my pride and summoned my courage and called the number. I was about to ask for Rex, but I was so fascinated with the guy who answered that I just listened to his velvet voice. I poured out my problems, told him how Rex had abandoned me at well, the critical moment, shall we say.

"I won't abandon you. I won't leave until you're ready for me to go. I want to be of complete - did he say service? to you." Without missing a beat he asked me if I would give him my number.

I stopped just short of moaning, "Yes, yes!" I gave him the number.

He spent a lot of time asking about my needs. He was kind and oh, so patient. He lulled me into such a sense of security that when he asked me gently if he could - and he paused - he was so cute - could he share my screen, I didn't hesitate and may not have stopped short of moaning, 'Yes, yes!" With that I relinquished control of my

mouse.