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Father & daughter's first night together.
This having been said, what do I like? I like women who are alive, who could very well kick some one's ass, not body building bronzed breast-less women, but not the feeble or sickly. I like women whom feel good when you hug them, whose skin and flesh are supple and tender, that have an actual warmth to them. I like women that would actually survive the idea of 'survival of the fittest,' who'd be around if it were still for cruel evolution.
But having mentioned breasts, I face the inevitable problem where one must choose between the two schools of thought concerning size: 'the bigger the better' and 'a handful is enough.' But opposed to addressing that argument directly, I will do so in a more round about fashion: I like women that are natural, that don't seem like they are going to fall flat on their face due to the lop sided nature of their figure, I like women who don't have to complain about back pain due to breasts. Every one enjoys some cleavage, but all things in moderation, one neither wants to believe they are looking at the chest of a twelve year old boy nor feel as though they are going to be crushed by two huge, globes seems like an accurate synonym, that seem to movie independently of a woman's body or seem as though they have to catch their breathe and then follow a woman when she turns around. Several of these thoughts were brought into the foreground by the recent movie/musical, Chicago of which I felt scared for my life upon seeing Queen Latifah's breasts.
But let us move away from breasts for a moment. I like women that well rounded, this is a very cheesy pun in reference both the physical and intellectual aspects. I don't by any means say that I desire a woman that is approaching spherical by any means or that obesity is a turn on for myself. I want to feel flesh and not bone though when I run my hands down her sides and hips, warmth, I don't want to be able to run my hands down her glaringly visible ribs like a xylophone. Legs are something I admire, strength in them too, from ankles, to calves, to the bad of the knee, to soft warm thighs: yielding and resilient to the touch but strong below.
Another part of the female anatomy that I find extremely sexy is the back, its often ignored as the other side is often preferred, but there are women whom I would kill to give a 'friendly' back rub, to please them and to knead their flesh along the largest expanse of uninterrupted skin on the human body, the muscles bellow, stretched liked cords under the skin, cool skin is something I love, not that I mind the hot and sweaty variety but the tingle both members get with the touch is wonderful, feeling the skin warm under ones hand, to replace the emptiness with one's presence, all is supremely erotic.
In this fact, as well as many others I find myself very similar to Ruben, the painter, whom we derive the word 'Rubenesque' from, meaning buxom used to describe supple women, although virtually all of the euphemisms fall short and carry an edge of insult under them. Ruben was also fascinated with the backs of women, not the 'baby got back' kind of back but the reverse side of the torso down the hips. He would paint these luscious women with their elongated backs, sitting coyly facing away from him. To touch a woman's back is a wonderful thing and I can still remember when I would become physically aroused at the feeling of bare or lightly covered flesh under my hands.
Now, I have called this 'A Philosophical Treatise on Women,' and I've only spoken of the physical and in vague terms.