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October 7, 2017
We're on a bench in Central Park, the first time I've seen him in about two years. He's still as slim as ever and could literally get in my pants if he so desired. Not the pants I'm wearing today, though, because they're capris, and even though he's super-cute and could probably get away with wearing whatever he wanted, I don't want him trying them on, perhaps because he might "rock" them better than I do. And then where would I be? In his black pants, which I am positive wouldn't flatter my ass as they do his. Oh well.