When I first meet a man, then pay attention to two things: a suit and his brains.
Because both for me, fetish. And if the suit is deeply personal and says goodbye, the slightest symptom of mild disease, "what?" – is deadly.
One day in the distant campaign with elements of survival games, I met a boy named Slava. He had a lean body with projecting neck and forearms veins, Mike is an alcoholic, stubborn dirt under the nails and hands of a man who can fix everything from a car-wreck to the LHC.
In General, we sat around the campfire, drink eighth Cup of coffee, which crunched on the teeth for a couple with river sand, and desperately liked each other. He was in awe of a girl who knows how to listen, and I could not take my eyes from the relief of muscle under his clothes. Ancient instinct "my male needs to be all males, the male
" stirs the blood, and the milky Way winked bold stars, hinting at the continuation of the relationship.
The next day we went home, promising to write each other a tearful love letters and be sure to meet.
The first SMS (and it's almost like a first kiss) killed me on the spot: "I don't know I but I Miz you miss". Slavochka, honey, it's not even a failure is a failure.
Further communication on the phone confirmed my worst guesses that Mike is an alcoholic, was not a tribute to fashion, as a warning to people like me. Wondrous young man with a characteristic fricative "g" enthusiastically told me on the phone about the fact that all the women of his small town shamelessly and ruthlessly blunt, plump with toddlers and makes the brain to their husbands, as in the morning garbage.
In fact, these same men are not much different from the last, quietly, but excitedly Spivey and bringing home pennies.
On the background of such tragic news reports of provincial life I with his "business and office center" felt a little uncomfortable – I guess I was really lucky. "And you th – on the Internet work, right? What is it?" For a moment I even thought: really? How to explain to ordinary working guy, what do I do? "Click on French manicures spell, and Glory." "And you for that money paid?" – "Yeah." – "Just you there, in the capital, with fat rage".
I did not argue. I just quietly bring communication. Because to listen to for the tenth time the story about how he was tired to dig in the garage and another monologue about the lack of money, it was unbearable. It from nowhere confidence that he will come to Minsk and live with me happily ever after, at first surprised, then began to irritate.
Yes, I can easily forgive the man no costume, but goals and ambitions – never. Let small, albeit not very complicated, but worthy. In General, bored – call me. I'm glad to see you're gone."The smartest, right?"
But worst of life tmti-lamti can only be a man's hostility to intelligent women. Babi revolt, emancipation, feminism, "to burn witches at the stake!", as written by one of our fan on the forum. "I think the Institute has finished, books read, so everything is possible, right?"
I think so.
About sex at the table
When I meet men, we are talking about work. Because what could be more interesting than finding out what he lives and breathes what strap to accomplish what was to become who he is. The answers to these questions, I need much more than stories about how cool he was out with friends in the bath.I do not have to entertain – I'm not bored.
And if I'm right here with you, then I'm interested. Relax and tell me who you are. What was in childhood, what hope to become in the future. Where are you going, man? They lead?I understand that it is difficult. I understand that is unusual.
Because girls don't usually ask those questions on dates. Safer to talk about the weather, sweet silence, to discuss the flavors of a caramel latte. To wind the curl on her finger, shake a shoulder, to lean over the fallen napkin, just to be clear, what size your eyes.
Yes, it works, and flawlessly. The brain shuts down immediately. But why? Then what to do with this body in an expensive shirt in front and a drop of saliva in the corner of the lips?..
They say women love with their ears. So I declare with all responsibility: women love with their brain
. This fall they may be in the wrists, smile and dimples, and love only head. And a sober.
Makeup on women. They are more...Eckhart Tolle: the Law of Abundance — the output stream determines the incoming
And now the promised story about sex at the table. If you have ever had a conversation where every word is precise, quick reactions, and his eyes both lit brighter than the Christmas tree in the square, I think you already know and understand this feeling of intellectual orgasm that you experience from the mind of the interlocutor.I admire intelligent men is my favorite kind of people.
Because it's time for a new sexuality – one that is in the head.published
Author: Olga Primachenko