I absolutely adore women.
That statement may seem obvious – given the constant stream of delicious boner material that finds its way – from my dick to my heart to my head to my iPhone to the-romantic-dominant.com, but let’s just explore that idea for a second.
I adore women.
I adore women in a way I don’t think most straight men do. Sure, some do; I know I am not the only one.
But I’d say if it was a Scholastic Aptitude Test, I’d be in the 98th percentile in Feminine Marveling. My mom would irritate other parents with her “my son appreciates women more than your son” kind of shit.
So, let’s really cycle through this idea, because for God’s sake, women will read this so clearly I am pandering (by the way – through explicitly stating that I am pandering out loud, I negated that fact I was pandering, so, therefore, that means I am not. Feel free to love me still). Oh fuck, did that parenthetical sentence just negate my honorable ass-kissing offset attempt? Shit. Surely the follow up righted that ship, right? I could be here all day I am starting to realize. My head hurts.
Anyways, moving on. Where were we? Oh yeah, I’m awesome. My penis is huge, I love listening to stories about your mom, and anytime you need a foot massage I’m in. (I’m doing more harm than good at this point; let’s stay on point, TRD). [Note to self: steer clear of parentheses; rely on brackets moving forward].
But – my stupid sarcasm aside – in all honesty, the woman is the better gender and I believe that wholeheartedly. My rationale? Raise a son; raise a daughter. When you raise a daughter, your biggest fear is the influence of sons of other people. Enough said – clear as day.
Women are just at their core less predatory and are more caring by nature. Even I, one of the “good ones”, broke plenty of hearts and fucked for sport, when people’s feelings were in play when I was younger.
So now that we have the heart addressed, let’s take a looksie into the fun stuff. Her body. Yowzers. (Did I just say yowzers?) [God damn you, parentheses!]
In seriousness, the artwork that is the female body is just ridiculous. Breasts curving out, waist in, hips out, legs down. The hourglass silhouette alone is enough to wipe out any man or appreciative woman.
Then the garden. Holy shit. Buttons all over the place. Clit and G spot readily accessible to any man who takes the time to learn a thing or two. A spot and O spot for the astute man, like myself, who learned the basics a long time ago. Orgasms from so many different places. It’s like Disneyland for the passionate and perverted.
And her graceful face. Good Lord. Or the smell that cripples you when you get a whiff of her perfume in passing her down the hallway. The long hair running down her back. Women just leave so much to be admired.
So when I have my opportunity, you can bet your sweet ass I am fucking take it.
I grab that little woman by the hair and show her all my emotions bottled up into a fucking powder keg of anger fucking with a slap, hair pull, hard dick, and onslaught of orgasms directed right at her netherworld.
Simple: because it’s the best way I honestly know how to express the absolute uncontrollable passion I have for this living, breathing piece of perfect.
Unhinged. Unconditionally uncontrolled.
Do you want to see the best part of this gender, cupcake?
Cause I’m coming at you like a fucking tiger.
Also published on Medium.