There's nothing that gets me more turned-on that a winter runner. I noted one just this morning, sporting his Adidas athletic pants and sensible neck gaiter. He was stretching his hamstrings against a tree, his muscles taut.
I gave him the eye once.
I gave him the eye twice.
I walked past, strutting a bit, and turned--casually--to give him the eye a third time.
Of course, nothing. Perhaps my not-so-sensible hoodie caused him to take pause. Or perhaps the fact that I was staring him down at 7 in the morning. Or maybe he was just focused on giving those sexy hamstrings a nice, long stretch...
I like to think that there is a parallel universe out there, somewhere, where Winter Runner and I are busy makin' babies...and pork chops.
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