misstree i feel i do him a disservice when i say his meat is nice but not exceptional.

there was lust_at_first_sight, and while there were certainly other factors involved, without wanting to know what that flesh would feel like under fingers, it would never have manifested.

and wasn't i just earlier testifying that there is no preference of body type? it's true that for casual double-takes, it's rarely the more masculine that draw my gaze, but looking at history of tumbles, no pattern emerges. many of those on the infamous list were tall, but only a small handful among that apple slice were both tall and solid; there were many a wispy goff_boi twined with me. but this one is tall and broad, solid so that he cannot be denied existence. a gravity of his own, a noticable displacement of the nothim world. there is a noticible tendency in toys, usually of a slighter stature, perhaps as i work myself up self-percieved ranks, meat puppets that can be handled with still-growing abilities. he is the opposite of these cubs. and many of his build are oafish or stiff, where he still carries a grace that i think is what draws me to the sinuous tall type. an ease in his power that intensifies my intrigue. and there is something to be said for the impression that i could be a rag doll in his hands. it's so very rare that i get to feel the least bit small, but i feel that if he tried, he could close his hands about my waist.

and the face, all-important and indefinable. there are the expressions, of course, and the windows to the soul, but the interior is not what i uneditorialize. eyes of the particular piercing blue that spell trouble for me even more than geminis. sharp and shining, sliding into me without splitting the skin. grin and goatee are playfully demonic, playing perfect counterpoint to the azure centerpieces.

and the ink. always a metling point, and i have a snapshot memory of when i saw those two words fresh on his forearms, from a path less traveled but precious to me, a howl in a little-known frequency. his skin is spattered with pieces, each fit to the meat but not without intrinsic meaning. it is artwork upon a wall that my eyes could taste for hours.

so, what i mean when i say his flesh is not exceptional, is that he is not the male equivalent of a female fetish model (fuck you if you want to argue double-standards, we all know what usuallies i refer to), seeing him undressed does not in itself make tingles echo, and i do not feel that i will draw the ire of every drooling goth girl within a mile merely by being near to him... but he's definitely pretty damn high on the physical yummehness scale.

i could not do a disservice to this particular flesh_temple; i could worship there for quite some time based on beauty alone, and the spirit that inhabits such places, well, i'll not rant, because there is no need to whip the horses as they run towards uncertain doom and destiny. i'd like a chance to see the scenery, for once.
pete "disengage...disengage...disengage..." 050829
BnB I disavow any knowledge of reading the above rant. 090214
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