There's no such thing as perfection.There's no such thing as perfection... But some girls come pretty close to certain men's idea of a perfectly formed woman. Even if I thought Christine was perfect, I'm sure in retrospect she wasn't; that her chest just looked RIGHT on her body; that her eyes just looked RIGHT on her face, etc. Different types/ shapes of bodily features can also look RIGHT on other people. Even with this, Christine was someone I could easily spend a long time with, just because she turned me on so DAMN much. I think the time I lost my virginity to an older woman who had some of these features is exactly the reason I still found them so attractive. Christine personified many of these features in a better way, and had younger, more supple skin. I dunno. I guess I just REALLY WANTED TO FUCK her so much, I was trying to understand why I felt like such a Neanderthal thinking only about getting her into bed. She was smiling. That's a good start, I thought... "What are you looking at, Phil?" That shocked me right out of my funk. She had caught me off guard. "Uhh.. I'm sorry. I was just thinking about you, Christine!" That wasn't the half of it. I thought I had gotten off the hook. "What were you thinking? And you had a weird look on you face!" Nope. I hadn't gotten away with it. "I was thinking about last weekend." I tried to drag it out; make her say exactly what I wanted to hear. "What about last weekend?" "You looked so good on my bed... you looked... delicious..." And I paused on the last word for effect. "I... I... I don't want to talk about it until we're in private... this feels weird to say all this while we're just walking. I mean, if I'm just talking about anything, and we're having some normal conversation, OK, but I'm talking to you and we're both facing forward! I mean, forward, away from each other! Doesn't this feel strange to you?" "You think too much, Phil," and she laughed lightly. |