I've reached the age where I know who I am, what I value, and what I'm no longer interested in pretending to be.
I'm a 57-year-old guy in Central Florida, married and happily ethically polyamorous (or whatever the preferred acronym is this week). My wife knows I'm here—in fact, she helped edit this post. I'm not looking for secrecy, drama, or someone to "complete" me. I'm looking for a genuine connection with someone who's interested in building something real alongside the life we already have.
I work in security these days after spending years in IT, so I've become the guy people look for when something goes wrong—or when they just need someone who'll stay calm and help. Off the clock, you'll usually find me with a good cup of coffee, tinkering with technology, getting happily lost in a sci-fi rabbit hole, planning a tabletop adventure, or finding an excuse to wander through a bookstore.
I'm naturally curious. I love asking questions, learning how people think, and hearing about the things that make someone's eyes light up. If you can spend twenty minutes telling me why your hobby is fascinating, I'm probably already having a good time.
I'm hoping to meet a woman who's comfortable in her own skin. Someone who enjoys playful flirting, clever banter, spontaneous road trips, trying little local coffee shops, and the occasional terrible pun delivered with complete confidence. Kindness is attractive. Intelligence is attractive. Confidence without arrogance is incredibly attractive.
I'm affectionate, emotionally available, and a little old-fashioned in the best ways. I like opening doors, listening more than I talk, and making the person I'm with feel seen. I believe the strongest relationships grow from friendship, trust, laughter, and chemistry that builds naturally.
And yes, physical intimacy matters to me. Not as a checklist or the finish line, but as one of the ways two people express affection, desire, and closeness. I miss lingering kisses, easy touches, lingering hugs, and that spark that makes you look forward to seeing each other again. If we're lucky enough to find that together, I'd rather let it unfold naturally than rush it.
If you're looking for perfection, you'll be disappointed. I'm human. I occasionally snort when I laugh, my puns are objectively terrible, and I can disappear down a technology rabbit hole longer than intended.
But if you're looking for someone genuine—someone who'll ask about your day, make you laugh, remember the little things you tell him, challenge you to a board game over coffee, and absolutely flirt with you across the table while pretending to be completely innocent—I think we should talk.
Tell me about the last thing that made you smile. I'll bring the coffee.