As a diver with fur or a bear who dives, I have to believe there's another guy out there like me who's into the same stuff that brought you to these pages in the first place. You may be a dive instructor, a commercial diver, or an ex-Navy SEAL. Or you may just be another average dive freak like me who's turned on by that imagery. WHO THE FUCK CARES! Just believe there's at least one other guy like you and that heavy duty dive gear (along with one hell of a lot of other stuff) could be the basis for a loving, long-term relationship. I may not be the diver of your dreams but I do know what you dream about. So...if you want to explore the possibilities, so do I.
You already show the telltale signs, don't you. Any excuse to suit up, like washing the car or taking out the garbage. A spare tank by your bedside with the Kirby-Morgan primed and ready for action on those hot summer nights. The rationalization that seven pairs of fins just aren't enough. Sound familiar?
Everybody needs stats, so here are mine: I'm 48, 5 feet 10 inches, 200 pounds of cuddly Bear (B2 f w+ dc g+ k+ s- m e+ r) who would love to suit up with you and buddy breathe for days. Sucking face can be as much fun as sucking cock. If you want more than casual encounters, then just maybe you're ready for the next step, Mr. DiverBear.
Incurable romantic that I am, here is an offering of fiction (or is it, really?), a short story about a blustery Saturday at the beach... It's called "Buds," a little romance in rubber.
Take the next step, cut the crap, bite the bullet and drop me a cautious note. The biggest obstacle between you and greater happiness could be a piece of e-mail.
