Waiting For Your Message

I've decided that I want to get married again. You know; have two wives. A pigamist. Pigamist means hog-wild in love with two or more ladies. I sincerely believe that my heart has room enough to make two women happily miserable.

In my mind's eye, I can see that while one works, the other could be tending to my needs and vice versa. And when they both aren't working or fighting over me, what a good time could be had by all. Gosh, I don't think that—even at my age—I've sexually peaked. There's a lot of lovin' in me that's yet to be tapped. Of course I realize that I'm going to begin slowly losing my sex drive sometime in the next ten-to-twenty years. But what a state of euphoria and happiness I can bestow until it occurs.

Do you, young lady, want to be my new wife? I'll be wanting someone mature, say 40 years old on up to my age. One other thing; you gotta be hot. Sizzlin', that is. Of course, you'll have to start out as mate number two, but I'll be an equal opportunity husband. You, with diligence, can work your way up, so to speak.

I've not spoken with Carolyn about it yet, but I'm sure she will be pleased and supportive.

Nah; probably won't work. Having a couple of gals constantly fighting over me doesn't sound like a loving or readily workable type of relationship. We'd probably lose our respect for one another in no time. And I insist on being respected.

Still though, if you'd like to let me know what you think, or if you're interested in maybe a test run, leave a comment or email me.

Signed,
Anxious

Sounds conceited? Well, Ive a lot to be conceited about, thank you.