Magic Magnus

My partner and I have shared a place for nearly a year now. At the start, our physical attraction was intense, everyday excursions into passionate intimacy. Over time, the frequency dwindled. During the recent month, as we nestled in bed each night, the glow of our mobile screens caught our attention, steering us further apart. I consider it typical slothfulness at times, while on occasion, it hints at deeper disconnection. Returning home after a dreary rainy day, utterly drenched and fatigued, laying eyes on him as he sat on the couch clad in snug leather trousers that accentuated the silhouette beneath. His alter ego, named Dallas mentioned. A film - Magic Mike, had been our most recent viewing on an evening void of physical affection. Urges to reach out overwhelmed me instantly, yet he advised me to sit and relish the spectacle. Seductive? Uncertain. Effective? Definitely. An old Russian saying asserts, ''A clumsy dancer always struggles with his masculinity.'' Completely untrue! Terrible moves are his forte, yet extraordinary lovemaking skills he possesses.