Bursted Bubbles

I look at a lot of porn. Naked men turn me on. Can't help it. I look and wonder at these fabulous guys. I appreciate their great bodies, their amazing smiles, their attributes. I pretend they could really be mine, if they were to meet me, they instantly love me. They would think I'm the greatest thing to come along since sliced bread. I can imagine snuggling with them. What their voices would sound like. The things they would whisper in my ear. I picture us cooking together in our kitchen. Making up the bed together. And yes, sex together. All these things run through my head at the speed of light when I come upon an image of a guy that strikes my fancy.



Then reality sets in. Most likely they are attached, don't live near me and I would stand absolutely zero chance with them if everything were to coalesce. I'm not destined to be with anyone that fabulous. I know that. They certainly know that. Everybody knows that. That is part of the fantasy. Those come hither gazes are for everyone and no one in particular.



The ordinary guy. The less than perfect fella that is a little awkward. A little unsure of himself. The one that watches too much tv or stays on the internet a little too long. The real ones that I cross paths with everyday. Those are the ones that I find irresistible. They don't see themselves as perfect or hunky or studly. They don't feel they have sex appeal or anything to offer another guy. They are the ones that turn my crank. They are the ones that appreciate you. The one that makes you laugh. The one with the little quirks that are insanely adorable. The ordinary guy. The average Joe. The guy next door.



That's who I want to meet. That's the one I can see myself growing old with. All I have to do is find him.