When you warn them and they still don’t see it coming.
Tag: my fetishes
My Fetishes?
That moment when a crying girl starts to laugh.
Especially when I’m the one who made her do both.
My Fetishes?
The way a girl sighs when you make her feel disgusting.
My Fetishes?
I like chicks who feminize all the significant inanimate objects in their worlds. Their cars are girls, their computers are girls, their phones are girls; whether it’s pink and covered in flowers or jet black as the empty eye sockets of Death, if a thing exists, it’s a “she”.… Read the rest “My Fetishes?”
My Fetishes?
Girls who really know how to curtsy.
I love exquisitely practiced displays of demure deference.
My Fetishes?
I’ve always been attracted to the sound women make when they’re feeling particularly small and ineffectual, but I didn’t have a name for it. MTV came to my rescue ten years ago, during a scene on Laguna Beach where two of the hotter, meaner girls were shopping, and one of them was making a kind of whimpering, whiny, squeak as she struggled to grasp an item on a high shelf.… Read the rest “My Fetishes?”
My Fetishes?
Millennial girls who don’t know how to read analog clocks.
Actually, a Gen-X girl who couldn’t read an analog clock might be even hotter, but what are the chances someone that stupid lived into her forties?
My Fetishes?
You know that thing where a desperate, super-eager guy’s-girl wants to get into a play-scuffle, or try a chest bump or something, but she’s got half the body weight so she just bounces off of him, and lands in an awkward heap while everyone points and laughs?… Read the rest “My Fetishes?”