In the evidence of its brilliance...

I know. I couldn't make up my mind. But that may be more related to my not having a 'type' than to actual lack of horniness. Or excess thereof. Only thing is, I think that come the moment, it would happen the same thing it happened with you: I could not make it work.
I still remember how much I wanted you to fuck me, babyboy. Oh, the thrill of it all. Those long kisses, the soft lips, the wet tongue, the hard cock. I was *this* close to actually be able to have sex with you. Sex in the sense of giving it up to you. More than physical, mind you. It was not that opening up to you and letting you fuck me with all your might (that was plenty) and maybe making me come (something that I never did with you, remember?). Thank goodness I never yielded to that temptation. And I thought about it. And I wanted it. Very, very much. It would have been even much worse to discover that there was nothing behind that gorgeous cock. It was all in my head, as usual. Funny, innit? How time gives us perspective.
I have ever since brushed aside many opportunities. With older, younger, heavier, slimmer, smoother and hairier men. I guess I just can cheat wholeheartedly only in my mind. I cannot do it in the flesh. The warm, inviting, taut flesh of the men I ogle and covet. Yet cannot bring myself to have. Total egghead, living in my head.
Such is life. No?
Oh, these gorgeous men are 'real'. They come from Dudesnudes.