Don't message me. Seriously, don't even bother. You won't be able to keep up with me. You'll have to be gorgeous, with a great body; in-shape ( as in you work out), smart, fun, GREAT in bed and know how to rock a dress with a set of heels before I would even consider going out with you. You'll also need to have a dry sarcastic sense of humor, or we would never get along.
I'm the kind of guy that every woman wants to be with. You'll have the time of your life with me. I'm handsome and fit and fun. I'll bust on you incessantly, and I would be disappointed if you didn't bust on me right back. I'm also laugh riot. I'll rock your world, sexually and otherwise. I'm well-endowed, experienced and I have great stamina.
You sit at the bar awaiting my arrival. I show up, five minutes late, but you hardly notice because as you recognize me, you see that I'm handsome, impeccably dressed and well-groomed. I sit down and you catch a whiff of my very subtle (and expensive) cologne.
I'll kiss you. Not on the cheek, but full on the lips, passionately. Once you catch your breath, we'll make fascinating conversation while sexual tension builds up over drinks, and we'll start to feel as if we've known each other for ever. You can't resist your urges as you invite me back to your place for the BEST sex you have ever had.