The good things that come from having low expectations.

I had a date last night with someone I'll call UAM, or Unexpectedly Appealing Man. It's not much of a nom de blog, but they can't all be gems.

On paper poor UAM didn't have a lot going for him. He's a Pakistani muslim with mediocre English skills, a hand-to-mouth existence, and a barely semi-legal status in this country. I had to pick him up to go on our date because his Pakistani drivers' license had expired.

But in person he was good looking, well-educated, friendly and charming. Not to mention sexy - there was an instant chemistry. We got in my car and drove to a local bar for a drink. By halfway there he was rubbing my stomach, ostensibly to feel the quality of the cloth of my shirt. By three quarters of the way there he was holding my hand between gear changes. By the time we'd parked, he was kissing me.

We went into the bar and had a drink and chatted. He told me many things about himself, 90% of which I consider apocraphal. But I didn't see the harm even if they weren't true.

When we got back to the car, he said, "What shall we do now?"

"I'd like to take you back to my place so I can kiss you properly," I replied.

"Okay. Perfect."

And so I did. When we got in the front door I offered him another drink, but it was five minutes before I could get to the liquor cabinet because he grabbed me and kissed me. He was a sublime kisser - sensitive, erotic and passionate. Soon we were kissing and caressing on the couch. Soon after that, we were in the bedroom and naked.

I hadn't known what to expect from this date, but there was a welcome sign of good things to come when I pulled off his shorts.

He was amazing. His technique was fair to good, but his sensuality made everything more erotic. Unlike the last guy I had sex with, who treated it almost as a process, UAM did it right: as if sex was simply a byproduct of enjoying each other, body and spirit, to the fullest extent.

The other thing that made an unexpected difference was the fact that UAM is 29 years old. From an aesthetic standpoint this meant strong muscles, soft smooth skin and an ass that felt as if it had been carved from granite. But from a practical standpoint, it meant that his body just worked. When I've slept with older men, there's a sense of urgency once he's hard to get him sheathed and lubed and in before things start to wilt. When UAM got hard, he rolled off the bed, found the condoms box, dug one out, tore it open, put the wrapper in the bin, found the lube... all while his cock continued to jut out as hard and erect as a flagpole.

And this was for our second round. That's the other great thing about younger men: stamina. Later, when I nuzzled against him and suggested Round Three, he just smiled and nodded and plunged back into it.

Around midnight I drove him home, not particularly because I didn't want him to spend the night, but because it would have been even less convenient to drive him home in the morning, and I didn't think it right to make him take a taxi. This morning he sent me a text once I'd arrived at work: Good morning gorgeous. Hope u slept well last night. It was so amazing and I enjoyed alot. Happy valentines day. Am missing u xox

And then late this evening: Sweet dreams gorgeous... cant wait to hold u in my arms again... missing u alot... sleep well sexy...

We're never going to be serious boyfriends - for a variety of reasons that I'll go into in later posts - but it could be that we'll make great fuckbuddies.