I got a call from Millie the next day. She wanted to thank me for saving her life. ‘The water was only four feet deep. I think you would have been a...right but glad I was able to help. By the way, your boyfriend seems like a nice guy.’ ‘Bullshit, Bobby. We both know he’s an idiot and he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a neighbor. He asked me if I wanted to go fishing and I like to fish, so I said yes.’ ‘Okay then, do you want to go fishing with me?’ I asked. ‘Are you serious? Sure! You name the. A little bit about me. I'm a white male in my mid 40's. I grew up in a medium sized midwestern town and went to school in the 70's and 80's. I'm not a very big guy at 5'8" and 165, but I was always extrememely athletic and all throughout my school years I was always a varsity wrestler and hockey player and runner. I'm also pretty good looking and always had good looking girlfriends and basically had a great adolescence. This is about my sex life however, but that plays into it as I always. You feel his large muscle twitch as if he hadn’t expected the touch. But he doesn’t do anything that makes you think he wants it removed either. You look across the table at your friend. She’s oblivious, but isn’t she usually? His thighs part allowing your hand to descend; the material of his jeans is warm, inviting. Your fingernails scratch lightly across the denim. You want so to dive straight to his crotch, but no, he’s got to wait. You flatten your palm and rub. Mmm, so firm. You can feel. You slowly push the door open. The smell of vanilla greets you as candles burn softly from various spots around the room. The bathtub is full of steaming bubbles and there is a fluffy towel and washcloth on top of the hamper. On top is a single long stemmed red rose. A rose? For you? Why not? After all, a single red rose is a symbol of love, deep and true. You pick up the rose and smell it. That is when you notice the note under it. ‘Slip under the bubbles and enjoy a nice soak, I will take.