......of not knowing what women want. That confused curiosity as children when boys do the 'no girls allowed' clubhouse thing yet, I felt more comfortable being included in the Barbie dream house play. Always included to do the Ken thing but, more interested in what Barbie was wearing. Fortunately, I had the high sense of visual and tactile, hunter gatherer skill sets but, I was never too interested in sports or hunting much. Not a total loss though as I'm a master of building, machines and circuitry. But, when it comes to women, I've never really figured out what they want or how they want it. I've always, very femininely, wanted to be the the receiver of emotional stimulation or the focal point of allure. Yet the women I've been with have always held the position that I was merely capable of being some elusive image of the domineering brutus of a man in their desire world. Whenever I asked, "What turns you on?" The response is usually about something that I should know naturally. So far, I've just figured out the mechanics of coitus to simulate that natural ability. Evidently, I emulate enough natural maleness because when I ask what the initial attraction was I always get the same answer. "You're a bad boy!" Well, yes. More often than I like, my Irish shows. Maybe that makes them feel protected. And, I have a comfortable handle on finances. Another plus. And a good sense of humor. It's all a very desirable package.
Until it's disclosed that I like being female, too.
It doesn't matter at which part of the relationship that's mentioned. It's always a traumatic game changer or as my wife glorifies it.
--The Fatal Flaw==
Oh well, I've rambled enough. Anyone care to comment or explain?