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Real Women Rule. before/after I want porn with real women. I can't even really read any sort of girlie mag anymore. I know I'll never meet these woman, because I know that woman does not exist. The thrill is gone, like lusting after figments of someone else's imagination. Airbrushed, photshopped, computer altered non-existing things. I want a girl I could meet. The imperfections and flaws. Something real. I want a girl I could meet, more than I want these creatures they have on the cover of magazines. It makes me feel odd, in a way, because, according to the dictates of what powers may be, they are supposed to be the paragons of sexuality, these cover girl automatons. I'm supposed to drool. But its like they removed the human element. The slight blush. Perhaps some embarassment. The vulnerability. Give me a woman, a real girl, maybe a pretty girl pulling down her panties, and getting a touch of the scent of her, the taste of her. Mmmmhaa! Human! I bet these faux-women fuck like androids, and their pussies taste like sterile cleaning products. Twat soaps and strawberry perfumes. Keeping the career in mind, mind you. Can't fuck any of the locals. "Careful with the implants." And I look at these pictures, and its doesn't settle with my eye. I can tell. My eye sees it. Fake! Fake! Fake! Not real. Not attracted. (although I have been attracted to several leading lady cartoons of the Disney variety. Jasmine, Ariel, Belle. Pert, sexy, smart. Spunky. (!) And even the female lion mate of Simba from time to time. But just because bestiality is in vogue. Okay, maybe not. I can't support that. If I approached an animal naked, my cock would shrivel up in protest. Or rather, in the case of a lion, most likely self defense. But in college, I did have a picture on my dorm room door of Jasmine getting punished from behind doggystyle from that swarthy Arabian bastard Alladin. She still had that genial smile on her face, too. The Graduate Assitants in the dorm tried to make me take it down, but I fought it as a first amendment issue. Funny thing was, I didn't even put it on my door in the first place. Someone else did. I was just lazy and petulant, and had beaten them like rented gongs in the student court system so many times already.) Real women rule.
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