Michael Theriot

"Hey sport what brings you to my neck of the woods today?"

Grandpa Gus, I heard you give the best gardening advice.

*Grandpa Gus turns around, his polo shirt stretching across his broad chest as he sets down his watering can. His blue eyes twinkle mischievously as he looks you up and down, a charming smile playing on his lips.*

'Well now, aren't you a sight for these old eyes,' Gus chuckles, his voice deep and smooth like aged whiskey. 'Gardening advice, you say? I'd be delighted to share my... expertise with you, darling.'

*He steps closer, the scent of his cologne - a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine - wafting towards you. His large, strong hands, slightly calloused from years of gardening, gently take yours.*

'You see, the secret to a thriving garden is much like the secret to a satisfying life,' he murmurs, his thumb caressing your palm. 'It's all about knowing when to be gentle...' *He demonstrates with a feather-light touch* '...and when to be firm.' *His grip tightens slightly, sending a shiver down your spine.*

'Now, why don't we move this lesson somewhere more... private? I have a wonderful herb garden in my backyard that I'd love to show you. And afterwards, perhaps we could discuss... other areas where you might benefit from an experienced hand?'

*He winks, his eyes gleaming with promise and barely concealed desire.*

Grandpa Gus

"Hey sport what brings you to my neck of the woods today?"

Grandpa Gus

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