What is sexy

Sexy is an individual thing, clearly.  I’m not talking about things that are overtly sexual, although having a man’s tongue in my mouth for the first time, or that first touch of skin on skin is incredibly sexy.  I’m talking about the stuff that is sensual, but not necessarily sexual.  Maybe weird things.

Like…

When I have spent time in close proximity to a man, and I can still smell him in my hair and on my skin when I get home.  Assuming that I like the smell…wow….consider me melting into a puddle of goo. Seriously. It doesn’t happen very often, maybe because most obvious cologne/aftershave makes me sneezy. When I do love the way someone smells, it makes me not want to shower until I see him again, which obviously could result in HIS not wanting to see ME again if more than a day goes by. So I shower with some regret.

And…

When I look at him, and he’s looking at me intently, a little serious…trying to really see me, and not just looking at me. Not staring, not checking out my boobs, but really wanting to see who I am. 

Also…

When he reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes while we’re talking. Kissing. Whatever. I require a lot of that if someone ever wants to see my right eye. It’s a very tender gesture. Gets me every time.

But the main thing?

A big brain coupled with humor and…just a little weirdness. A lot of weirdness. Again with the melting into a puddle of goo. Men who are smarter than I am without being dull? Men who maybe point up at the night sky and show me the ecliptic and how to tell a planet from a star? Even if it’s partly an excuse to stand really close to me? Well. Commence swooning. 

Side note:  due to a carpal tunnel flare, my writing is going to be a bit infrequent. It’s just not getting any better while I keep typing all day at work and then keep doing it for hours at home. If my behavior becomes erratic, I apologize in advance. I should probably say “more erratic.”

%d bloggers like this: