Coal dust on my parts

This will sound a little stupid coming from me, but lately, I've found that there's nothing more compelling than young women with stunning good looks who seem completely unaware of them.

There's a woman -- I'd guess she's 23 or 24 -- who works at a place I go after work sometimes. She's just amazing... what Kevin Gilbert would have called "the legs of a thoroughbred," chestnut hair that rolls in a river when she lets it down, kind of like a young Elizabeth Taylor. A smooth, unlined face and a sweet smile. Tall, rangy, desirable, and for all practical purposes, completely unaware of it.

After about 25 years of watching women, you get tired of the showoffs. Seeing a woman who isn't conscious of her own tremendous good looks is like seeing a fox or an elk in a clearing and having it be unaware of your presence. By contrast, most women I see out who are self-conscious of their looks tend to come off like peacocks -- the male ones -- and it's rather off-putting, as if "I know you're looking, and don't you just want to fuck me but I won't let youuuuuuuu..."

I want to tell them, "no, sorry, I actually don't want to fuck you, I'd hate waking up with your mascara all over my cock... it would make me think I'm turning to coal."

Enjoying women who aren't like that is a rare treat.