I humiliated myself in front of Romeo recently.
My regular readers, I'm sure, aren't surprised in the least.
Humiliation is something I do frequently well.
My newer readers are asking, "Who's Romeo?"
Romeo is the good looking Expert Stimulator who turns me on. (And up. And down. And re-programs me.)
Romeo is the technical expert for my bionic arm and the 24 electrodes in my arm and shoulder.
He's also just-walked-out-of-a-magazine gorgeous. Smokin' hot.
Let me tell you what happened …
I had an appointment to see Romeo first, followed by an appointment with my doctor. (Same building – same office although Romeo doesn't work for Dr. Painless.)
The waiting room was packed when I arrived, and it quickly became clear I was in for a long wait.
After about 40 minutes of waiting, the receptionist – while on a phone call – turned and looked at me and said, "She's here; I'll tell her." Then she hung up and informed me Romeo was stuck in traffic but would be arriving soon.
"He's definitely worth waiting for," she quipped. Then she gave me a look communicating just how much she admires Romeo's body charm.
(Romeo has this affect on woman worldwide – I'm not the only cougar one who drools a little when he walks into the room.)
A short while later I was in one of the examining rooms with Romeo.
I want you to know, up until this time, I had always been very calm, cool, and collected around Romeo. Oh, I might have giggled once or a zillion times twice when he talked about turning me on, but for the most part I was a very professional, studious, patient.
I know, it's very unlike me, isn't it?
It took a lot of effort to suppress my personality to that extreme.
Anyway, Romeo was giving me an additional two programs on this particular visit. We began chatting. He turned me on. Then off. Then I asked him to turn me on again because I could. He explained things to me, I asked questions … everything was on the up and up until he said something about my recent complimentary trip to the spa.
I wondered how Romeo could possibly know about my trip to the spa.
"I've been reading your blog, I even went back and read some of your archives" Romeo said blushing.
:: Stunned silence ::
"Oh my God!" I thought, "He's blushing! He read what I wrote about him in the Romeo post."
If you'll recall I wrote things like:
… unable to tear my eyes away from the gorgeous hunk of Italian man in front of me …
Romeo has lots and lots of sexiness wrapped up into one drool-worthy package. Yum.
He turned me on repeatedly. Sometimes the feelings were more intense; sometimes the feelings built slowly. Once or twice, things got a little more intense than I could handle.
Memories of what I wrote made me blush too.
I wanted to die; I was so embarrassed.
"Oh, you read what I wrote about you in the Romeo post," I said – wanting desperately to come up with words to explain it away.
"Romeo post?" he asked. "You wrote a post about me?"
Oh shit ……!
He hadn't, in fact, read the Romeo post.
Foot in mouth, anyone?
It was too late, of course. There was no doubt in my mind Romeo would be reading exactly what I wrote about him as soon as he had the opportunity.
Why was he blushing then? I wondered. Then I realized he could have read posts about my brazilian bikini waxes or any number of other subjects that might make him blush.
"Do you have a sense of humor?" I asked.
Smoldering, green, bedroom eyes pierced mine.
"Ah, um, I … um ..," I stammered.
Right then one of the doctors walked in the room to say hi to me.
"We've all been reading your blog every day," she said cheerfully. (Yes, those were the first words out of her mouth.)
"Ahhhhhh ….!" I answered, feeling as if a giant spotlight had emerged from the ceiling to shine light on the inner workings of my brain.
My eyes darted around the room, trying to find an avenue of escape.
(I know it doesn't make sense because I do write on the Internet, but I'm still shocked – and I do mean SHOCKED – when I find out people in my every day life are reading 24.)
I quickly changed the subject to arm-related topics.
Quite awhile later, after seeing Dr. Painless, I was finally done with my visit.
When I got home, I went back and re-read the Romeo post.
Then I blushed a lot (!!) more.
Next, I tried to block the afternoon out of my mind. I decided, the next time I met with Romeo, I would simply pretend our conversation never happened. He had probably already forgotten the entire discussion anyway.
I should have known better.
The next morning I woke up to an email from Romeo.
He had read the post I wrote about him.
"You are very talented," his email said.
(And now, I'm blushing again.)
© Twenty Four At Heart