(As 14 of you may know from my previous post, I magically created actor/singer Jared Leto out of thin air with my supernatural abilities, only to send him running because of my rudeness and general lack of caring. Well, last week, Jared forgave me and asked me out to dinner. I happily obliged.)

He wanted to be called "Shaun" for obvious reasons: so people wouldn't hear me saying "Oh, Jared this" and "Oh, Jared that" and blowing his superstar cover.  I was fine with that.  "Shaun" was also a "park ranger" and living in the "Pine Barrens of South Jersey." Sure, sure, Jared. You hone those little acting skills of yours.

I wasn't so fine with the fact that "Shaun" was only about 5'7, maybe two inches taller than me. I don't have a preference for certain physical traits. If I connect with someone then I can easily look past "imperfections."  But tallness? That's one I can't seem to get beyond. I need me a taller man.

And alas, I can't say that's all Shaun had working to his disadvantage. He also wore a baseball cap into a fine dining establishment. The Mean Miss Manners inside of me wanted to slap it off his head, with a "What the fuck are you thinking?"  And the cologne...marone! He could choke a horse with that shit. Unless you have exquisite cologne, don't wear it. But who's going to tell Jared Leto this? Not I, sir...not I.

We did have sex later that night. I really needed to check it off my 6-month To Do list. Was it earth-shattering? Nah. It was adequate. Perfunctory. I had perfunctory sex with Jared Leto. That can't be a good thing. But if you haven't had it in a while, you'll take your sex like a big, fat pill and swallow hard.

As Shaun dressed to leave, I looked at his lithe, young and slightly petite body. My...I think his waist was actually smaller than mine and I'm hardly a big girl. My sheets smelled of his Italiano cologne. Annoyed, I began thinking of the tons of laundry I'd have to do to remove D'Odor the next day. Jared Leto was not all he was cracked up to be. Hell, he wasn't even Jared Leto.

Or perhaps it was me. This Shaun guy was perfectly fine for a fun fling. No, I wasn't interested in him in that heart and soul way - but he's still a warm, breathing and naked body in my presence. Couldn't I maximize this experience? Carpe fucking diem? I'm a sexy girl. I do sexy things. Why can't I do it now? Have I lost my groove?

As I walked him to the door, he turned around to kiss me quickly before his departure. "Did you have a nice time, Beth?" he asked somewhat nervously.

It was then I took a sexual chance and allowed my Scorpio side to rise from me like uncoiling, taut snake...or a clownish, undersexed Jack-in-the-Box, take your pick.

Grabbing his head, I stuck my tongue in his mouth like I meant it...because I did. My groove was at stake. His responsiveness in the form of a raging hard-on only encouraged me more. I grabbed his ass and pulled him toward me, as hard as I could. His hands slipped under my flimsy dress and my knees gave way a little. And I felt my old self again.

"Wanna do it again?"

"Yes, Shaun. Let's do it again."

"That's the first time you've said my name all night."

"Shut up and take off your clothes."