My requirements for Dream Girl are simple. Unpretentious. She should always have a scarlet manicure. Morning, afternoon, night. Impeccable scarlet manicure. And that’s it. Oh yes, she must also be a brunette. I love brunettes. But sometimes blonde. Sometimes I want to hug a blonde by her elastic waist. It all depends on the mood. In short, even a brunette, but as soon as I command “Blonde!” – She instantly becomes blonde.
By the way, about the waist. Of course, the Dream Girl must have an excellent figure. Round ripe ass, chest no less than the fourth size. Legs are strong, ankles are thin. And by no means taller than me. Although if in heels – let it be the same height with me, I do not mind. Yes, she should always be in high heels, move with a light gait, so that everyone would turn around and envy me. In the gym you can without heels, I agree. But the gym is at least three times a week! To become the Girl of my dreams – you have to work hard. And how she plays beach volleyball – ooooh! All run to stare, including Donald trump.
Remembered! I still like redheads very much. So the DM – let’s give it like that for brevity – should also become red, it hardly affects me. Time! – blonde, two! – red, well, not cute? The main thing is fast.
What else? Of course, it should be fun. DM does not have any PMS. Only permanent joy, happy laughter, plus minor surprises for the beloved. That is me. In the morning I open my eyes, she immediately: “Honey, do you want to please? Look at what underwear on me!” I look: cool. How much is? “I sewed it myself!”
Yes, a needlewoman. The correct DM is generally a hostess. New curtains to hang there, wallpaper to glue, put tiles, build a cottage – all by herself, all by herself. Delicate handles with scarlet manicure. And I am sitting opposite, in a large wicker chair, admiring her legs, ass and general enthusiasm. That she is red, then blonde. What else is needed for happiness?
Oh yes, parents … It’s simple: parents of the DM must live in a distant Siberian city and come extremely rarely. And it’s better not to appear at all, it’s crowded. Although why Siberian? Why is London bad? Let them live in London, in a mansion, the Kensington area. And for the duration of our visits they release us the mansion. Let the servant be left in livery.
And here we go with her, such as in London. We enter a fashionable gastropub, where DM, honey, pre-ordered a table. We sit down. My DM doesn’t stare at the smartphone – she doesn’t have a smartphone at all. She admires only me. Whispers hotly: “You are the best, best, best …”
Look: at the next table – Mick Jagger and Alessandra Ambrosio, also went to eat. Then Mick glances at my DM, chokes on a roast beef with admiration. Jumps up – and to us: “High gay! What a fantastic girl. Not like my grymza today …” A quivering DM looks down, takes my hand, quietly asks: “Who is this old man?” – “Oh, do not pay attention! – I answer. – Let’s dance?”
And we go out with her to the center of the hall. My DM is dancing like a spring wild nymph – at least salsa, at least hip-hop. But now we have a waltz. And while we are spinning, I list to her what I need to buy for the winter. She nods and smiles. Nods and smiles. “And also, I say, I want you to learn how to fly like Sailormoon …”
… Here the music is a crack! – breaks off. My DM looks sternly: “Are you a citizen in your mind at all? Take your hand off my hip. Here you have a minibus, not something …”
Okay, I’m going out. Around autumn. Have a cat or something?