Too often we work our asses off, all day, and for what?
After we fight, tooth and nail, through all the drivers, who should all ride rapid transit and get off the road, we finally make it home. We really don't need to know that anything is broken, or that one of the kids was bad and needs to be talked too. Oh no. We need attention, devotion, a lot of leg and something suggestive worn. We men, that is, real men, want a Sunday school teacher for a wife; one who, at the moment your car pulls into the driveway, turns into a $5,000.00 a night hooker, who was paid in advance for taking you to the moon and back.
Real men want to be touched, grabbed, kissed with lust, stroked, teased and more. We want it all. They want their pants taken off for them, kisses down their chest, kisses to their little king (your Love Toy) and then, without any thought about it, a real life attempt at being fully engulfed during your gagging effort of deep-throating him until he pulses his way out. Stand up, offer him your lips, a few more kisses, then raise your top up and offer him your sweet breasts. Take one of his hands and push it down into your loose fitting pants, to your smoothly attended, clean, and trimmed source of 200 thoughts a day. Real men are simple. It is the lap dogs who are too complex. They live and die, having never figured it out.
Keep life simple. I'll trade you two bummers that I have to handle for one deep throat. It's the only thing we need; and I do mean need. So, here is the inside edition: Keep him happy and he'll keep you happy. It's yin and yang, give and take; it is the trade off for a loving, giving relationship. Giving; that is the secret to love, true love, and adoration galore. The secret to life, is love; the secret to love, is giving.