There once was a woman named Nancy. She worked me into such a frenzy. One time, after I commented, “sexy,” to her picture of her beautiful bouncing tits, I double tapped the screen and my brain got fantasizing.
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She looked in the mirror that morning at her beautiful face without makeup. She was determined. She was driven. She was smart. She had soft inviting skin. She got dressed and put on her lip color wich only a woman could. She puckered in the mirror slowly. She secretly wished her lips had more to them. Her top showed her buxom Double-D breasts, which were a blessing and a curse in her opinion.
She knew men looked at her breasts as if they were dogs. She secretly wanted an ass that matched, like a purse with an ensemble. She looked back at it in the mirror, or the lack thereof. It was small yet tight. She saw every flaw in it. Yet, she took a selfie. She looked cute. She knew it. She actually liked it when men looked. But then it got old.
'I'm more than some tits and ass,' she thought.
~~~
I thought so too. I've always thought so. However, some other men don't. They look at her like a dog looks at a bone. They want that coveted thing in between her legs when deep down, half of them don't know what to do with it. They need it. Don't get me wrong, I'm just like those men... in some ways. Then I saw her and the sexiness she oozed out that wasn't to the naked eye.
How did I see this? When did I see this? When my eyes laid on those protruding hips. That feeling when you walked. I can't really explain it, but that is confidence. That is ambition. That is power. That is more than showing or teasing a body part between your legs. That is sexy.
