Your Perfect Woman

Hello, I am your perfect woman.

I am completely hairless, outside of the hair on top of my head

(blonde or brunette, your choice),

Long lashes, thin eyebrows.

The rest of me maintains the smoothness of a fresh wax

Without having to go to the salon,

Like a Thanksgiving turkey before it goes in the oven.

I somehow have a tiny waist,

Large, perky tits and a plump, firm ass,

That physically could not be held up by my long, thin legs,

But what can I say? I’m perfect.

I don’t wear makeup because I don’t have to,

Because I look like I’m wearing it even when I’m not;

I wake up in the morning with a smile, looking bright,

With breath that smells like a spring daisy.

I don’t fart.

Or burp.

Or chafe.

Or sweat.

My sneezes and coughs tiptoe around your important conversations.

What was that sport you like again?

I know everything about it.

I drink whiskey, but it doesn’t make me mean or sloppy.

No, when I drink, I just become more lively, more dazzling,

And more horny (but I’m not a slut).

I eat racks of ribs without getting sauce on my face

And I chew as quietly as I sneeze.

You love me because I call people out on their b.s.

But I never call you out on anything

Because I agree with you on everything.

I’m smart, but I’m not smarter than you.

I’m funny, but I’m not funnier than you.

I’m financially independent, but I don’t make more money than you.

I’m never too tired to do things for you;

I keep clean and don’t say an un-clever word.

I’m sweet and kind and innocent.

I’m tough and strong and worldly.

I need you when you want to be needed

And no more or less than that.

I call you when you miss me

And no more or less than that.

I want to have sex whenever you want to

(but I’m not a slut).

In fact, I’ve never had sex before you,

But I’m really good at it.

And I love sexy underwear.

Really, I love it.

I love how the thong nestles itself in my butt,

Like food stuck in your teeth,

And how the lace makes me itch

Like bugs crawling over me.

But I wouldn’t think of revealing my skin to others.

My body is yours, darling.

I never embarrass you because I’m always “on.”

I’m never emotionally vulnerable;

That would make me crazy.

In fact, maybe I’m too guarded

Because of my insecurities,

Because even though I’m perfect,

I just don’t realize it.

You need something to fix, after all.

I’m your perfect woman

And you will settle for no less.

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