Achilles

He was tall, about 6’3, and Greek. A graduate student. We’d spoken on and off for a while and then finally met – this evening.

He looked like James Rubin (Chief Spokesman at the State Dept in the Clinton administration).

He had longish jet black hair which I coveted enough to run my hand through. He kissed with earnest endeavour, a good sign. Good hands too. I tend to evaluate hands above most other features. Tall and slim, no ‘muscle mary’ (thankfully, as they rarely do it for me).

Shame he is returning to Greece imminently to complete his studies. We’ve said we’ll stay in touch.

About Milo

I write about anything and everything which may include, but is not limited to: travel, photography, television, books, cinema, the arts and importantly - food and wine. And I’m desperately seeking Steven. Among other things.
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4 Responses to Achilles

  1. Tam says:

    Well that stinks. The going back to Greece part, not the good hand part. I lurve good hands. Greece is lovely for an autumn vacation. ;-)

  2. mumof4 says:

    Ohhhh. Greek men. Gotta love the idea – no matter what your persuasion.

    Never been to Greece yet. You?

  3. Suburban Mum says:

    I always think Greek men would be a bit sleazy, but then I like Italian men and most people think they’re sleazy.
    Right man, wrong time, eh?

  4. Milo says:

    Tam – yeh, tho perhaps it was fate.

    Birdy – only once, as a child, to the island of Zante I think. Was OK. Probably wouldn’t race to go back.

    Hen – yeh I know where you’re coming from re: sleazy. This guy certainly wasn’t. Very professional. Hmm. I don’t think he was 100% right (if he was, I’d follow him to Greece! :D )

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