Bitchicisms

Been reading Anne Rice's The Witching Hour lately. And I can totally relate to the part where Rowan says it's not true that women don't find men's bodies beautiful.

It's common knowledge that men are visual and like looking at women's bodies. A woman body is a beautiful thing. With all it's luscious curves and soft skin. In fact, I like looking at women's bodies.

Men's bodies though...damn...Rowan goes on to describe what she likes about men's bodies...and just now (as I saw O raise his arms and I got a glimpse of his thick strong fingers) I realized how much I agreed.

Men are just physiologically so similar yet so different from women. It's just something worth noting.

One thing that I adore about men is a hairy chest...or hair on their happy trails (the hair that starts from the belly button and crawls down to join their pubic hair), or hairy legs, hairy arms...I don't know why...but I like hairy men. My beloved ex N was Chewbacca-hairy. I loved rubbing my soft, smooth, hairless skin against the soft delicious tangle of hair on his chest. I loved how it felt against my nipples.

I loved their thick strong thighs and especially those with good, clean, pretty feet. I once grinded against my ex's knee...and for some reason it was very very intense.

Their hair is also very different from ours. See, I love playing with hair. Even though I myself have short hair, I like playing with hair. My own, either on my head or the ones that inevitably grow on my pussy. Or other people's hair.

Guys turn me on. V had curly hair...perfect to run my fingers through. Whereas H has long straight hair, hair I love to pull on. When guys shave their hair off...that's a different thing though. The feel of that taut smooth skin. Goddamn.

Their eyes. Just something about that. Honestly, it takes quite a few tries at sexual congress before I am completely 100% in sexual trust with the person. During sex I'd rather close my eyes and savor that tight, full sensation as I squeeze my partner's cock. But when I do open my eyes, I'd like to see his face and his eyes staring at me.

H likes to watch. He admitted that. As my eyes rolled back and I felt the Big O coming on he watched me. I opened my eyes just at that crucial point and I saw him. And I came.

V was the same. I was coming and moaning and groaning and screaming and I opened my eyes and I stared at him and we locked eyes until he came.

Hands turn me on. H has long thin spindly hands...V has big thick fleshy hands...They're both hands that has touched almost every part of my body, and the difference DOES make a big difference.

Shoulders. broad sturdy fleshy places I can grip and kiss and lick. Necks that arch upwards. Arms...ears...cheeks...lips.

All of it. The entire male package. Not just his cock and balls, or the cute bubbly fleshy ass. Not just the tiny almost shy nipples or that scrumptious man-smell that they give off...musky and oh so nice.

Men just turn me on. Especially when you take into consideration the way they look at me, the way they kiss me, the way they lick me and bite me and touch me and fuck me.

For all their faults, when men get it right they get it so right.