The Feminine Aficionado

Very few things match the sight of a truly beautiful woman. I can be overlooking the Grand Canyon or Lake Garda, but if a perky breasted woman with ass hugging jeans passes by, I’m taking a break to check out that glory. Mother Natures old, wrinkled ass can’t compete with a fresh, new vixen. I will analyze her walk, composure, and the bounce of her ass. I’ll analyze her hair, skin color, and figure. If she has potential, I make an immediate plan of action to get a good look at her face. Whether my recon missions calls for me to pretend to go to the bathroom, look for a book, or act like I’m looking for a table, I’m confirming the cute face. If that checks out; I’ll make my move to talk to her with a 95% chance of rejection.

I love women. The beautiful, pretty, and cute ones. I don’t give a shit about the rest. I don’t wish them ill, but a woman who is not one of the three stands zero chance of being in a relationship with me; it doesn’t matter how many other great qualities she has. Though, I have fucked the occasional atrocity of a female in drunken desperation; self hatred followed.

I truly love feminine women. Those who embrace their femininity and see it as an empowerment, not as an archaism. I love women with long hair, soft skin, sexy voices, skillfully applied make-up, supple breasts, and a full ass. The ones who doll themselves up when the occasion warrants and who wear little short shorts around the house. I love a woman who compliments my masculinity and feeds my animalistic sexuality. One who loves to feel and act like a woman, in the classic sense of the word. One who lets her man be the man and lets him be in charge, as nature intended.

I consider myself a very a masculine man and I’m proud of it. I don’t mean in it in the way where I think women are the lesser sex, but rather, an equal who has different and complimentary contributions to a relationship. I want a woman who is truly feminine and truly in touch with what it means to be feminine. A woman who is my Yin to my Yang. I value femininity very highly in a woman; the more masculine traits she possess, the unsexier she becomes in my eyes.

I have no shame in the fact that I do check out a woman as I pass her by. I understand my testosterone and animalistic desire to penetrate her deeply and inseminate her with my seeds. I fantasize about ripping off her pretty, pink panties with the little flower pattern on them, ravaging and fucking her better than whatever poor excuse of lover she may currently have. I love the feminine, and will continue to do so. When I’m older, wiser, and dirtier: I’ll be laying on my hospital bed checking out the nurses tits, ass, and saying all the sexually absurd shit I can’t get away with now as a sensible young man.TC mark

image –Alex Bellink

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