Imagine a good looking, masculine, strong, uncomplicated impeccably dressed man catching your eye from across a room. In a crowd of other, lesser, dustier men, he’s that one that stands above the rest with quiet confidence, a bold direct gaze, and an easy unbothered smile. He sees you lookin’, witcho lookin’ ass. He accidentally on purpose walks by and you catch a glimpse of the print in his pants and a whiff of his cologne. Woodsy Mahogany Teakwood. Spicy yet…Cozy. A trace of black pepper. And is that…is that…coconut?? He brushes past you just close enough to whisper “Oh, my bad. Excuse me.” with slow direct eye contact.
So many masculine fragrances blended so confidently, so big, so deeply complicated you might reconsider having a hoe phase to satisfy your curiosity about him. If you weren’t strangers, you’d bury your face in his neck and inhale your way right into the ocean. Somehow you already know he’d twist you into the hottest, saltiest, softest, butteriest pretzel.
And you’d let him.
You could stare at his face, listen to his soothing voice, and fall asleep in his arms every night for the rest of your life.
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