Meeting Ileen


It was early fall and I was coming home from my job as a slaesman in a high end men's shop in Manhattan, so I was dressed to the nines, as they say. I am a nice looking Italian guy, 6ft tall and built like a football player. . . lots of muscle, no fat, and while I look very GQ in a suit, I have lots of tattoos and big arms that make me look quite different in street clothes. I had taken off my suitcoat and rolled up my sleeves, and I saw her coyly glancing at me on the bus. Finally, she said shyly. . . "I like your tattoos"
I walked over and struck up a conversation and was able to get her phone number. Ileen. . . just saying her name still gives me a hardon years after the experience. I called her a few hours later and she was willing to come to my place. .

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  . first base taken care of
To really appreciate this story, you have to understand what Ileen looked like, and how she presented herself. She had short, dirty blond hair, a pretty face, above average.