Can you talk about the feelings you experience and the thought processes you have when you see a very sexually attractive woman? What goles through your mind, what desires do you have, etc. Elaborate.
What do you feel when you see a hot woman?
- Thread starter Chiballana
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notthatguy
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Usually my vision blurring as the blood is draining from my brain to my smaller more powerful brain.
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I guess my life as a New Yorker, daily surrounded by beautiful women from every country on earth, has dulled my senses a bit. I am in a relationship with a beautiful woman, so I can visually see another beautiful woman and it has zero outward physical affect / effect on me.
Most men know this to be true :
Mentally, they have approximately 4 seconds to view / process / fantasize and avert his eyes, before his wife / GF checks where he is looking 95% of straight men, understand that their wives and Girlfriends have Extra sensory perception, when other women are around. Even when just walking on the street.
Most men know this to be true :
Mentally, they have approximately 4 seconds to view / process / fantasize and avert his eyes, before his wife / GF checks where he is looking 95% of straight men, understand that their wives and Girlfriends have Extra sensory perception, when other women are around. Even when just walking on the street.
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I wonder what she looks like naked, what sex with her would be like - but those are thoughts that I would never act on. Being honest I have them, but in all our years of marriage I have been physically 100% faithful to my wife.
halcyondays
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BeyondHorseHung
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When I spot a woman who’s seriously sexually attractive, it’s like a switch flips—there’s this rush that hits me, a mix of heat and curiosity that’s hard to shake. For me, it’s not just about the obvious stuff like a pretty face or a nice figure; it’s specific features that catch my eye, ones that hint at how she’d handle me, since I’m way bigger than average down there. I’m talking hips that look sturdy, a solid frame, maybe thicker thighs—stuff that says she could take it without breaking. It’s not even conscious half the time; my brain just zeroes in on those details like it’s running a checklist.
The thought process kicks in fast. I see her, and my mind’s already picturing it—how tough it’d be to get inside her, whether she’d tense up or ease into it. I imagine that first push, the resistance, how her body might flinch or stretch to adjust. I start thinking about how she’d react over time. Would her hips shift a little wider after a while? Would she start craving it, her body molding to fit me? I wonder how she’d move—tight and cautious at first, then maybe looser, more confident once she’s used to it. The challenge of penetrating her, the way her breathing would change, the sounds she’d make as she figures out how to take me.
Desire-wise, it’s intense. I want to test it—see if she can handle me, feel that mix of struggle and surrender when it finally works. There’s this pull to find out how her body would adapt, to push her limits and watch her respond. It’s not just about getting off; it’s the thrill of seeing how she’d change, physically and otherwise, because of me. That’s what gets me going—knowing I’m a lot to take and imagining how she’d rise to it.
The thought process kicks in fast. I see her, and my mind’s already picturing it—how tough it’d be to get inside her, whether she’d tense up or ease into it. I imagine that first push, the resistance, how her body might flinch or stretch to adjust. I start thinking about how she’d react over time. Would her hips shift a little wider after a while? Would she start craving it, her body molding to fit me? I wonder how she’d move—tight and cautious at first, then maybe looser, more confident once she’s used to it. The challenge of penetrating her, the way her breathing would change, the sounds she’d make as she figures out how to take me.
Desire-wise, it’s intense. I want to test it—see if she can handle me, feel that mix of struggle and surrender when it finally works. There’s this pull to find out how her body would adapt, to push her limits and watch her respond. It’s not just about getting off; it’s the thrill of seeing how she’d change, physically and otherwise, because of me. That’s what gets me going—knowing I’m a lot to take and imagining how she’d rise to it.
I instantly wonder what she looks like when she's cumming, whether alone, or with someone else. I wonder if her pussy is thick and meaty, if she has a big clit or not, and if its all tucked away under the labia majora or the inner lips and clit are poking through. I wonder how far she can spread her legs, and what kind of positions she can get into. I imagine her hair flailing and whipping around. I imagine what her face looks like if she runs her hands over her body and over her breasts. I wonder if she bites her lip and what that looks like. I visualize her eyes (if she has great eyes) and how they would look at me if she was sucking my cock, staring at me. And I try to imagine what her nipples look like and how hard they get.
I don't imagine myself having sex with them usually, just how they look when they are in the throes of passion and how they look under their clothes. If they leave enough of an impression on me, I'll imagine doing them later on
I don't imagine myself having sex with them usually, just how they look when they are in the throes of passion and how they look under their clothes. If they leave enough of an impression on me, I'll imagine doing them later on
