Milky Is Not A Real Doll™ Part One

Fantasy is all well and good, but sometimes life takes precedence.

I know, it's a shock hearing that coming from me, isn't it? Milky, the ultimate dream girl, everyman's favourite fucktoy.  A mysterious figure who can be whatever a man needs.  Mistress, domme, lover, sub, slave.  Extraordinarily kinky or merely sexually insatiable.  Welcoming, funny, bright, a friendly ear and a shoulder to cry on.  A pair of 44DDs to provide entertainment.  Three holes, no waiting.

Though my eyes truly are green, and I maintain my long hair in a lovely shade of auburn, ultimately a fellow can visualize me however he chooses, since I provide no photographs.  For some men, that's important.  I had one randy Canadian lover who really liked lightly freckled redheads ala that luscious little pornographic actress Faye Reagan.  Another, a delightful Dom in San Francisco, loved brunettes, insisting he could not be with a woman whose hair was of a different hue.  To my great amusement, he's fallen quite deeply in love with a blonde who's now cohabiting his digs.  Sometimes non-negotiables morph when someone is special enough. 

Most men aren't as fixated on colouring as they are on other feminine attributes.  Consider Benedick's observations when musing in Leonato's orchard on his ideal woman:
Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise,
or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her;
fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not
near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good
discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall
be of what colour it please God.

There's a certain self-mockery there that always tickles me.  Of all of Shakespeare's lovers, I think I desire him the most.  Part of it is his wicked sense of humour, part is that when Beatrice is distressed about the injustice done to her cousin Hero, Benedick immediately seeks to help her.  He cares for her as more than simply a body to warm his bed.  When she's agitated, he responds in a way most women only dream of: "Come, bid me do anything for thee."  Of course, he backs off a bit when she bids him kill his friend Claudio, but that's not the point.  He was there for her, goddammit.  And he listened to her worries.  Sometimes a gal needs that.

And so it was that last night, as I was chatting about sex with a depraved man, when the call came in that my daughter had been injured, I discerned his calibre versus that of another fellow.
milkynips milkynips
46-50, F
1 Response Dec 11, 2012

Different strokes for different folks. What turns people on is enormously fascinating to me.