My Love for Men: An Ode to You ♕

My Love for Men is immeasurable

My love for men is my reality. The deep timbre of their voices, their angles, and broad shoulders, beards, and mustaches, and that tuft of hair in the center of their chests. I love men’s muscled arms and chests and their strength. To me, there is nothing better than hearing a low growl whispering into my ears, with a man’s day-old beard tugging at the delicate skin on the back of my neck. It sends shockwaves down to my core, making me melt. My love for men won’t end.

So I’ve tried driving in other lanes and it just disappointed me. If you like the oncoming lane, you should revel in it and be loved there. Let me stay in my lane and enjoy myself. Don’t put me down for being true to myself.

I love feeling a man’s rough hands tracing their way down the soft skin of my back, raising goosebumps all over my body. Whisker burns on the back of my knees will probably get rewarded with a proper tongue lashing and my warm lips wrapped around you. I love rewarding men with things they like. So I’m not ashamed of it. It’s a love language and I am adept at speaking it. A delicious feast that I’ve grown to love more every year, as I’ve become better and better at it.

So the taste of a man’s salty sweat on my tongue and the smell of hard work and soap makes me crazy. Only men possess these tastes and smells. I’ve never met a woman who didn’t have an overpowering scent of perfume to her and it just isn’t my cup of tea.

It’s the differences I love. My curves and his angles. My softness and his strength.

His firm touch and my tender caresses. A man’s directness makes me feel like I’m surrendering, even if it was my idea. Somehow, I like that in the bedroom. Whisper your soft orders into my ear in secret and I will open my world to you. Share your darkest fantasies and I will make them come true. So men only need apply for that job. A man. Someone who doesn’t have to use a pronoun to tell me what he is all about. My love for men.

So I want my lover to be bigger than I am. It makes me feel safe, protected, and sheltered. Men do that best for me. Sorry, if it feels old-fashioned. I want to feel like my lover is protecting me. It’s a primal scream inside my psyche that needs to be fulfilled. “Make love to me, protect me, hold me, hold off the darkness for a while.”

Men’s kisses are better too. Their lips are harder and more insistent, as opposed to my soft, tentative lips. Their facial hair tickles my cheeks and adds to the flame. Also, I’ve never met a man who didn’t know how to instinctively add just the right amount of tongue diving to a kiss, which turns my insides into jelly. I have no time for soft, small tongues — please.

My love for men and their kisses with whiskers burns down my throat and beyond making me squeal.

Only men can do that. Believe it or not, I love religious men. The ones who make art out of missionary. Oh, my. A man’s strong arms (preferably hairy) balanced on either side of me, with sinews straining? Forget the rest. That’s all I need. There’s something that shatters my illusions about not needing a man when I’m watching a man’s arms in that position. I will cover his arms with kisses and nibbles because I can’t get enough of them. There is nothing more sensual than the sight of a man poised above my naked body, waiting to become a part of me.

So I haven’t even gotten to the man equipment. By the time a man gets to that point, it won’t take much to push me over the edge. But, yes, I prefer man equipment to woman’s parts any day. So man parts of any size or shape will do. They are a magnificent miracle which I never truly understood until I saw an adult one close up for the first time. So I never get tired of watching that miracle. I love feeling the magic as it grows and tenses beneath my soft, feminine caresses. I wanna make a sexy video message to show my love.

So, yes, let me stay in my lane. There is nothing better for me than being loved by a man.

Be my man. Call me.