The Mythical Creature – The Perfect Man.
Where is my perfect man? It’s almost like they are mythical creatures. Read romance novels and you could be excused for thinking the perfect man has such attributes as a six pack chest, tattoos, wispy little beards, muscles on muscles, spray and wipe skin and of course a dick that can rock a girl’s world from a foot away.
But that kind of mythical beast is not what I want, no I want something much more reasonable.
I want a man who loves me for who I am, warts and all so to speak. A man who loves me all the time, even when I’m being a bitch. A man who loves me unconditionally not just while my legs are spread.
A man who says good night to me whether he’s first in bed or last the sort of good night that is spoken with love and respect not just the hope of sex. He can say it with a strong stiff member but not until he’s said it from a warm strong heart.
A man who says ‘good morning sweet thing’ without reservation. A man not afraid of morning breath, but most of all a man who is not afraid day after day even when he knows my response will be crabby.
A man who washes the dishes and stacks the dishwasher. His calloused hands not afraid to soak in dirty dishwater with bubbles up to his elbows. His only reasoning, to save his love the effort of standing by the sink.
A man who knows how to used the washing machine not just stack clothes around it. He can hang wet clothes on the line and retrieve them without being reminded that it’s midnight and folding clothes is not a chore just another thing he does for the one he adores.
A man who knows how to use the vacuum for something other than his car. Knows how to use a duster and can polish all the furniture and does all this without expecting any help.
A man who doesn’t need to continuly climb to new heights to impress his mates, but can still impress me by being himself.
Don’t get me wrong I’d love a man to rock my world, he can do it with a throbbing hard dick or he can do it with several well placed and gently moving fingers, I don’t mind. Damn he doesn’t even have to do it every time. If he can find that sweet sensitive spot on my neck he can nearly use whatever he likes. I don’t need a dick that rocks my world from a foot away I need a mind that rocks me from a world away.
So seriously world, where is this perfect mythical beast? I’m not greedy, I only want one to keep for my very own, I wont disown him or discard of him and I don’t even mind if the man you make for me has a few flaws.
Even if I have to remind him occasionally that I’m still here. I honestly don’t mind
He doesn’t need a six pack, I keep mine in the fridge. Just as long as he hasn’t got a pot belly and knows how to shower.
It’s not even a deal breaker if I have to remind him that he hasn’t told me how much he loves me for a few days.
I don’t even mind if one of those flaws is that he is human and as needs to be picked up when he is down.
I honestly don’t mind. I don’t think my requests should be that hard to find, I just want a taste of this mythical creature that is claimed to be the perfect man.
So if you think you fit the bill interviews will be held here at 9am tomorrow, bring attitude, bring manners and feel free to bring your appendage but that’s purely just for me to admire.