FrustratedWhiteMale
Mythic
★
- Joined
- Jul 26, 2018
- Posts
- 4,963
There his a reason they call it a love doll.
I fantasize about romance. her clothes are fully on.
I stare into her eyes, rub my fingers through her hair.
We do lots of cuddling.
I imagine that she's attracted to me; that she likes awkward guys.
I imagine that she's a disco singer, and I like her singing.
I imagine a scenario, like we're the only ones not invited to a party, and we're comforting each other.
I imagine myself as the hero - nobody likes her, and I'm there to save the day, and she's forever grateful.
I imagine we're going on a trip to Jamaica or Haiti. All the guys are hitting on her, but she only likes me.
I imagine that she's dancing with me. She dances like Arthur Murray.
I fantasize about romance. her clothes are fully on.
I stare into her eyes, rub my fingers through her hair.
We do lots of cuddling.
I imagine that she's attracted to me; that she likes awkward guys.
I imagine that she's a disco singer, and I like her singing.
I imagine a scenario, like we're the only ones not invited to a party, and we're comforting each other.
I imagine myself as the hero - nobody likes her, and I'm there to save the day, and she's forever grateful.
I imagine we're going on a trip to Jamaica or Haiti. All the guys are hitting on her, but she only likes me.
I imagine that she's dancing with me. She dances like Arthur Murray.





