He was like something from another era. Or perhaps like what erotic writers describe as the perfect, yet succulently sexy romantic protagonist.
He subtly maneuvers you in front of him and opens doors for you. So unconsciously that you scarcely notice it until you realize that rarely do you encounter a man in this day and age who genuinely treats a woman with gentleman-like respect. Not put on or for show, but like he was simply raised really well.
Such behaviour could seem weak in a different kind of man. Like a mama's boy, or submissive. But not on him. He is sensuously diffident, yet composed. Intelligent and polite, yet exuding eroticism from every pore.
In an environment that allows one to quickly degrade to jeans and sneakers, he wears a shirt and tie. Thank God for that, because anything else would disguise that body. A body that begs to be unwrapped like a treasure.
And I really wanted to unwrap him. Any day that allows even a few moments in his presence is a good one. A day of delicious fantasy and warm wet thoughts caressing me like a physical touch.
Have you ever encountered a man who appears completely open and guileless? Almost innocent, and untouched by the usual baggage and hang-ups that most of us carry? Yet at the same time completely unselfconsciously seductive? One who gives off a sexual vibe in a raw untainted way?
One whom I suspect enjoys sex purely - who relishes in the activity for itself and is neither shy nor seeing the need for the insecurities that so many of us possess.
I could scarcely imagine how liberating sex with him would be. To be approached by someone with no hesitation or guilt about the act.
To feel his eyes on me, truly adoring and appreciating each curve, and noticing each subtle response. To have him grab my body and crush it to his - savouring each taste and breath.
It's rare to be with a man with genuine confidence and enjoyment in sex. Too often ego and selfishness get in the way. Or even worse, just plain lack of observation of their partner, nor any sense of rhythm.
Do men realize what kind of sexual aura they exude in the most innocuous of moments? The way they sit, or speak or how they respond in a meeting? A million little involuntary clues that reflect to a woman their most intimate behaviours.
Of course the possibility exists that I might be reading this man completely wrong. But I don't care. I want him. And the thought of him makes me hotter than most men ever have even whilst in the throes of passion.
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