Dear Sweetness,
       I would like very much to invite you over for dinner tonight. And I promise to prepare something without garlic or onions so your breath, it does not obtain too awful of a stench. Then, after dinner, I plan to make love to you in ways you have never imagined before. I predict this evening's atmosphere will be so genial that you will want to hold my penis with your pinky out during the sexual act. Yes, yes I do- and I know you will swear I have four to five extra pairs of testicles in my pockets after you suffer through my extreme virility. For baby I fuck like a badger, and my semen tastes just like that delicious Cheese Whiz product that you enjoy on your Triscuits or perhaps Wheat Thins. A leprechaun I am, but my pot o' gold- it lies inside of my tattered green knickers.
       Women who have sex with me rarely forget it unless of course they do but that is usually because they get brain damage from my genitals slapping up against their labias so hard. The only line I have ever had to use to get a lady in bed with me was- 'my perineum feels just like an armadillo's shell.' We were copulating five minutes later. I once knocked boots with an eighty year old. She told me it made her feel seventy again. And before this becomes an issue I must tell you no- there is absolutely no way you could ever possibly comb through my pubis- not going to happen- and if I were to shave off all of my body hair the velocity of my love thrust would send us both into deep, deep space. I should tell you this also- a couple of my ladies have actually had epiphanies after bedding down with me. Unfortunately those revelations unmasked the fact that they had been suicidal for a very, very long time.
       Tell me again- what is your clitoral length? I am unsure if you told me before. Anyway, it does not matter- no matter which length I believe I will be able to make you just as moist as the Key West. Our pistons will be pumping lightning quick- both of us shall reach maximum viscosity. Almost from another land you will hear a mystical attendant mutter in your ear- 'this chassis is over- lubricated.' Our coitus will be just like a difficult, intricate disembowelment procedure- it will be your vagina's own personal Nagasaki. Yes- we are talking total destruction here. Wearing jet propulsion packs, you riding my love rocket to planet paradise. Or perhaps some place much, much more horrifying. Okay.
                                                                                                              I Will Expect You Around Seven-
                                                                                                                                     Daniel