



Admittedly this post is veering off our usual path and as our blog-reader relationship is still young and we're only getting to know each other post by post, we may not be here yet and I could be crossing a line ... however, I must confess. Something that I have only recently, truly grasped and accepted about myself ...
there is no physical trait in a man I appreciate more than hair. As in chest hair. Hair and being a red head. Preferably a rugged combination of the two. Swooon.
Thank you, it feels so good to admit that openly!
Agreed. I love a man who is a hairy mess. Swoon.
ReplyDelete