You’re going to find this hard to believe but I’m a time traveler from the 1970s. The specifics of how our time travel works (and why I’m a time traveler from the past) are a state secret (I cannot reveal which state for continuity reasons, you understand, butterfly effect and all that) but I CAN tell you that both cunnilingus and bush play a non-trivial role in warping space-time. 

There-in lies the problem: women from the future, sorry your present, maintain such a smoothness of their nethers (as is the fashion) that I’m having trouble producing the necessary foliquarks. I don’t wanna get too technical (state secrets etc.) but pubic hair, it turns out, is a better than excellent conductor (BTEC) for several of the particles necessary for time-travel, but only when combined with saliva and sexual arousal. 

I will activate a small device called a temporal actuator and a small localized pocket of the aforementioned foliquarks will form. I MUST be face-first in hirsute vulva when the device is activated or there will be a non-zero chance of a universe ending resonance cascade. 

Obviously if the correct protocols are followed, shortly after one of your intense orgasms (we’ll keep trying until time travel finally occurs) I will bamph back to the 70s. I'm afraid this means there will be no need for reciprocal activity. You cum, I time travel, everybody wins.

But seriously...

I'm looking for someone discreet (preferably partnered) with a sense of humor and an ache for head. Give me the chance to convince you of my obsession for muff-divery. It will be worth solving the logistics for both of us. Bet. 

I’m 5’11, big (power-lifter), broad-shouldered, bearded, and bespectacled. Partnered (dead bedroom) I can hold a decent conversation, love: dogs, weed, books, getting lost in conversation, explicitly expressed consent, and snarking on movies so terrible they're wonderful.