We Find Excess Hair DISGUSTING

Have you kissed a wet mop before? That's what its like when you slobber all over us after taking a drink or getting out of the shower. If you trimmed it, we wouldn't instantly think: Note to self: mouth wipe as soon as he's not looking!

Also, ask your barber to use one of those round trimmer things on your nose and ears. YOU can't see it, but we do and ewww! What are you, dwarves? Hair belongs in only a few places as far as we're concerned. We do legs, pits, lips–both sets!–and think it wouldn't hurt you to do the same.

Did you know that when we see it, our first thought is to grab and yank? If you won't clear it outta there, we will.

Worst places to ignore excess hair-growth:

Beard

Mustache

Eyebrows. One? Come on!

Ears

Nose

From a mole or wart

Bellybutton

Leave that line of hair that goes from there to the pubic area, though. It's sexy.

Easiest way to get rid of all that hair? SHAVE, LIKE WE DO.

Or:

Buy a clever trimmer that is no-cut (meaning just that–you get no cuts from its use) and ask your woman to cover the places you can't reach. A good friend will also do this for you, but even if it's your own shaky hand–shave it.

Then why does it seem like women prefer men with long hair and beards?

Many do, roughly 78% according to Cosmo, like a mustache and a beard, but! They have to be kept neat and trim.

Also, wild hair gives us that bad-boy feel, but except in a few cases (Jax Teller–SOA) we will always get him to shave it all off at least once to see if we like the bareness better.

Best hair cut?

One that covered the ears and comes to just above those wide shoulders. Too long? Well, at least leave me enough to run my fingers through. I like to grab that nape of your neck hair and hold you close when you're on top. How can I ride you like you're my favorite horse, if there's nothing to hold onto?

I know you would, but seriously. You get the point.

Hair care:

No dyes or perms–ever. If it goes white, make it work. I personally adore older men. I can't remember the last time I let a younger male slide between my long legs. If you cover up the gray, we won't be able to judge your age and you'll miss out.

Yes, I know the younger girls want younger hair, but here's a thought for you guys:

Did you know most younger women are trying to give you more than you can handle? Why? Lots of reasons.

*Actually trying to kill you–as in a notch on their bedpost to have made an older man have a heart attack, it was so good.

*Control. As soon as you stop in the middle to catch your breath or can't go again right away, they own you. You never live these things down with women.

*Status. So they have a mocking story to tell their older girlfriends–it's our way of getting back at them for knowing more.

*Revenge. This is the one that hurts–brace for it. You remind them of their daddy.

No, not in the sexual way. As in he tucked me in and read to me and helped me learn to read and I just loved him soooo much.

That girl will ALWAYS leave you. You're not a boyfriend, husband, or even a lover. You are daddy.

Btw, never refer to yourself as sugar-daddy around her or another female. It’s setting you up to watch her drive away with someone else at the bar one night, when she's being teased by her friends under their breath about your age.

There are fifty more reasons, but those are the top. At some point, I may do a series about younger women vs older–differences and patterns. We'll see.

Okay, back to hair.

The hair test:

How many times a day does she touch your air?

How often do you wash your hair?

When was your last cut? Did SHE pick it out?

Women adore soft, sweet-smelling things. If she isn't touching your hair at least once a day, you need to switch shampoos, conditioners, styling products, etc.

However, this only happens if you wash it EVERY day.

If your last cut was less than a year ago, and she picked it out–go right now and ask her who she thinks the three sexiest men on TV are.

After you pry-bar those answers out of her, study the hair of those men and take yourself for a cut–preferably with photos in hand. And don't hit the barber or the barber college. Go to a real beautician, so it will be right. You want her to get wet from being aroused, not from spilling her drink while she tries not to laugh.

Headgear, hats, etc

The longer you wear a hat, the faster you'll go bald. Look at the hair on your ankle, where the socks bunch up. See the missing hair? The same thing happens to your head, genius.

However, the sexiest hat alive, on a good-looking man, is a tan cowboy with a single feather. In close second, is authority–like police, fire, and military.

Recommend a shampoo/conditioner?

The only one that ever did the job well enough to make me remember it was used by a roommate I shared a condo with. He used a combo of the two scents below that drove me absolutely insane. I'd sniff him whenever he got close, it was that powerful.

-Polo for men

-A Cosco shampoo in a tall purple bottle and a Cosco conditioner in a tall white bottle.

Both bottles were very tall, square, and had hand pumps on the top. They are definitely a Cosco product. Comes in big, bulky, man-style pump bottles–which are white and purple! Meaning she won't mind seeing them sitting around the bathroom.

You're bald or losing it faster than a ship can sink?

Buy a wig. Use your sexiest TV men question to judge what type and then keep it in a PURPLE box under the bed. Every now and then, set the box on the bed in the morning. If she's not interested in doing it again, or that night, she'll let you know, but more importantly!

You're learning to not only find out how she wants, you're doing it in a non-invasive way. After the second time she sees you pull the wig from the box, and then take her to bed, she will ALAYS equate that box with sex. It warms her up and gives her something to think about all day. If she has plans, good chance she'll clear the schedule when she sees it sitting (Closed/locked) on YOUR side of the bed.

You're training her.

You have horrible dandruff or greasy hair?

Do you wash it every day?

Do you drink at least 5 glasses of water every day?

Do those 2 things every day for two weeks and watch it improve like magic. Some people can get away with a lot less of both, but you happen to be one of those who can't. So am I. Every day, first thing in the morning. Piss, wash hands and face, brush teeth, drink water, do hair, do me. It's a good life.

It's NEVER You in Our Fantasies

Let me put it in man-terms. One position with one female, one night of the week, for the rest of your life. Now add in only using that in your thoughts, as well. Makes it hard to think about heading for that comfy, pride-fed bed now, doesn't it?

Does the same to us. You have no idea what it's like to have to clear the time to shave, shower, and have boring sex, just to feed your ego and then get ourselves off. Not much to look forward to. Still wondering why she only spreads those legs once in a while?

Who is in our fantasies?

Your male relatives, co-workers, famous people. The same as yours.

What do we fantasize about?

That's one's a bit harder. When we find something we like, we tend to use the images until they don't draw a spark. Then we'll toss it in the file and adapt an old one.

We're usually watching our chosen players, not being one of them, though the woman will resemble us slightly.

Yes, we use the taboo shit, just like you. Rape, the occasional incest, and while asleep, are the favs.

Stop frowning at having it admitted so openly. Our thoughts are our own. Don't feel guilty for what your life-conditioning has scarred you with. So long as it never leaves your head, it's your business.

Will we act out our fantasies?

Sometimes, but it rarely ever works. There's no way you can match the images in our minds, and the same for us, with you. Always better off creating a new one.

Here's that class lesson, gentlemen.

1.) Get these three movies:

9&1/2 weeks

An Officer and a Gentleman

The Jodie Foster rape movie that I always forget the  name of. (You'll shock her with this one, my friends, I promise. Very few men have the balls to sit through a movie about a rape trial and then proceed with step #4)

2.) Watch one of the movies

3.) Do not make even one sexual move during the entire film. And watch it, too!

We hate it when you try to please us and act bored.

4.) Take her to bed.

5.) Repeat the next night until all of the films are watched.

Was she hotter or colder than usual? Which film did she react to? Base your fantasy attempts on the results.

She didn't like any of those?

You know her better than I do as in triggers, you just can't see it yet. Pick different types of movies with sexual scenes until you find the one that rings her bell.

How will you know if her bell has been rung?

Snort. Was the sex different? Nail marks, clothes on the fan, louder, sweatier, longer/shorter? Use your brain and evaluate her like you would a car with a knocking noise.

"Let's see... What's causing it? Maybe if I lube 'er up, the nut will go easier." Duh!

Is there at least one fantasy that all of us use?

Of course. There are always exceptions, but at least 90% of all females who have a previous orgasm will use this one over and over through the long years.

Pants unsnapped, yet? They should be. You'll enjoy this. Read for pleasure the first times. Then, read it again as a study guide while you quickly zip it up.

What? You were going to anyway.

It was exactly midnight when the cab pulled up. I know because I'd just looked at the clock on the Central Trust tower, missing the arrival. Orange, lined in white with black lettering, it was the only car I'd seen in the last hour, other than the police. In this City, those were always on the roads. Late January was a bad time for any business, let alone mine.

The window slid down to reveal an average taxi and an even more average driver–a sandy blond ponytail hanging behind a dark colored shirt.

"You should get in. We'll talk."

His voice was smooth, like the kind that should be singing backup for great bands, and I didn't hesitate, sliding into the warm car. It was roughly freezing and I hadn't had a single client all night.

"So where we goin?" I used my southern accent, almost sure it had been my very long hair that had drawn him.

He looked at me in the mirror, smiling politely. "Somewhere we can be alone."

I nodded and leaned back as the Taxi pulled smoothly away from the corner I always worked. "You guys busy tonight?"

He shook his head, made a gentle turn as he waved a hand at the lit up but silent cab radio.

"Not any more than you, I would think."

I studied him now, his total uncaring that we'd already broken laws and were about to blow through a few more, catching my interest. He wasn't ashamed, liked living on the edge, I thought, spying the beginnings of gray, of real age, creeping into his hairline. Ah. Fear of death. I couldn't have been more wrong.

His eyes met mine in the mirror and I recognized the need in them.

"I'd like to hire you."

I grinned sexily. "You already have. Price matter right now?"

His eyes never left mine as he gently braked for a yellow light. "There's a credit card on the seat next to you. Do you want to stop and get it first?"

I fingered the MasterCard. Johnathan Harker. Age, 37. Musician's animation on the logo. "After's fine."

He nodded politely and I caught a whiff of aftershave that sent a jolt through my system. Sexy!

"What's your name?"

"Amy. Yours?"

He grinned at my joke and I didn't bother to ask before lighting a slightly crushed Winston. His neat turns had quickly taken us to a more expensive neighborhood than I'd been expecting. Surely not his home?

We pulled onto a long gravel driveway surrounded by thick trees and utter darkness. When I looked up, I saw he'd been watching me.

"We can go somewhere else?"

He slowed as he made the offer, letting me have control, and I shrugged, relaxing.

"I'm fine with this."

The barn was full of straw, some baled but most spread out to dry, and when he took my hand in the dark, my heart thumped, very aware of him as a man. I was going to enjoy this one.

He turned suddenly and I could feel the tension in his big body, the need, the self control held tightly in check. He didn't touch me until I stepped into his arms.

Then, that's all he did–his fingers restlessly searching. His lips burned on mine, his breath sweet, thumbs working the sensitive flesh of my nape, my jaw, my cheek, as we kissed. Our mouth never lost contact as he slid me to the ground.

It was amazing how fast he had us uncovered and was between my legs, pushing into me. He was like steel and velvet in every hard thrust, hitting my body in just the right places and I pulled him close as I gasped, listening to him moan.

His lips went to my neck, body straining to get deeper and when I spread my legs further to let him, he began shoving into my heat with vicious jerks that slid me up on the straw and drew a surprised cry of pleasure from my lips as I exploded. Instinctively, I worked my tip, groaning his name.

I could tell he liked that by the way his lips burned into mine, his breathing harsh, iron bar pushing into me harder, and then he was up on his knees, hand a blur.

I quickly rolled over to give him something to aim for. Hot seed rained down on my cheeks and I smiled in the darkness, hearing his gasps. He'd needed that.

Silence reigned for a moment and then he surprised me again by being a complete gentleman, from wiping me off and helping me dress, to the hug and soft kiss on my cheek. "Thank you. You've kept me from hurting people."

Understanding fell into place as we walked back to the Taxi.

"She belongs to someone else?"

Now he was the one surprised and I didn't tell him I had a lot of experience with that sort of thing. He knew.

"Used to be my best friend," he sighed. "Hasn't been for a while now."

"Is it guilt or bitterness that keeps you away?"

He met my eyes. "Both. There are kids involved too."

He looked away and his voice was tortured. "The family that shoulda been mine."

My heart hurt for him and I slid my arm around his lean hips, laid my head against his shoulder.

"What can I do for you, John?"

His eyes and voice held shame for the first time.

"Be here when I need you. Be...available when it hurts so much I think I could just run into a brick wall and not feel anything anymore! Be my safety net when the only thing I want or care about is being with her, no matter who it hurts."

His voice lowered, full of self loathing. "I'll pay you well."

I nodded against his jaw.

"I can do that."

We made the drive to the ATM in quiet and when rolled down my window, I understood I could charge my own price. My finger moved toward the 2, after all, I'd enjoyed it, and his head shook. His eyes were still burning with need and control as he looked at me.

"Whenever I need you?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yes."

"Move down one."

My heart thumped as I hit the 4 and then two zero's. "Are you sure?"

His tone held a note of panic.

"Yes. If I go to her, she'll leave him. She loves me, always has, but she's everything to him. I'd never allow myself to be happy if I wrecked his home to get it."

I hit the enter button and after stowing the cash, wrote two numbers on a slip of paper that I gave him with the credit card. "Day or night."

We passed the ride back in companionable silence, both smoking. My eyes wandered over the taxi, seeing dice on the mirror, anti government slogans on the dash and over in the corner, near the heater vent, a small picture of a very pretty, very sad woman with dark hair longer than mine. 

Pushing away my greedy nature, I wondered if he knew how unhappy she was. I read it easily in her eyes. He looked at me in the mirror and I smiled soothingly, willing enough to be what he needed.

"Maybe fate has something planned. You shouldn't give up hope."

He sighed, nodded, but I knew he'd already faced the cold future that waited.

"Maybe. Thank you."

He pulled to the curb where he'd picked me up and I moved away without looking back. I'd have to be careful with this one. A guy like that would be too easy to fall in love with and that wasn't in my job description. He clearly belonged to someone else.

Do we really go all the way to the end?

Most of the time. Our explosions usually happen when we hit the $400 tab and feel the cold cash in our greedy hands. The setting, clothes, players, etc will change, but the main action you just blew off to will always be roughly the same. The thought of being a hurting man's secret escape is our number one fantasy. We don't want to be hookers, but the idea of offering comfort for money arouses us.

She doesn't watch movies, or you can't figure it out from the films?

Here are a couple other ways to judge what does it for her:

1.) See what she's reading. A woman likes to visualize, and reading is perfect for it.

2.) Leave a quiz or magazine test laying out for her to find. She won't actually mark the answers, but you can mention it later and watch her face as you talk about it. Tell her you took it, too, and what the results were.

You want to role play?

So does she. Like you, she's embarrassed and afraid of causing a fight or problem. I'll do a post on role play sometime in the future, but the easiest way, is to tell her what you'd like t try and let her decide. We prefer to know what we're getting into head of time.

Quick and easy role play ideas?

Back of the car with the hitchhiker (This work with either person playing either role.)

In the laundry room with the sitter/butler