male-beauty

Blake inspires instant, tender Blakelust in everyone he meets. All of his beauties are meant to be touched, and he likes to be touched.

Isn't it enough to be middle-aged and impeccably beautiful? Why must one be economically useful?

There was an art to the male posterior. That's all there was to it.

THIS IS WHAT A MAN LOOKS LIKE. HE DOES NOT HAVE TO BE AESTHETICALLY PLEASING; HE DOES NOT HAVE TO BE MUSCULAR; HE DESERVES NOT TO BE PHOTOSHOPPED. HE IS HUMAN, AND HE HAS BLEMISHES. HERE HE STANDS, VISIBLE. HE SEES YOU ALL, COUNTLESS INVISIBLE OTHERS LIKE HIM. THIS BODY IS ACCEPTABLE _ PUBESCENT, AWKWARD, MARRED. YOU DON__ HAVE TO BE INVISIBLE. WE ARE ALL GOOD ENOUGH. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH OUR BODIES.

A girl can still admire, can__ she? Even those who can__ afford to go in the store can still window-shop. Right? Knowing he wasn__ for me didn__ mean I couldn__ covet the merchandise.

Nature had squandered an unreasonable quantity of male beauty on this undeserving creature.

Sometime during high school he__ gotten . . . kind of . . . beautiful, and Harper found it easier to not look directly at him. When she did, it did strange things to her, making her voice high and her cheeks burn. So she only ever really looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, like one would look at a solar eclipse.

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.'Why do you weep?' the goddesses asked.'I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied.'Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,' they said, 'for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.''But... was Narcissus beautiful?' the lake asked.'Who better than you to know that?' the goddesses asked in wonder. 'After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!'The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:'I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.''What a lovely story,' the alchemist thought.

The Devil hath powerTo assume a pleasing shape.

But I'm a bad priest, you see. I know--from experience--how much beauty Satan carried down with him when he fell. Nobody ever said the fallen angels were the ugly ones. Oh, no, they were just as quick and light and . . .

It was one of God's jokes that such a dumb mind had been put in such an eloquent body.

His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, and they shall live, and he in them still green.

Like all men who look this good, Frank has no interest in women.

Michael was still an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, coated in yum. Only now the enigma was a little less mysterious; I was a few clues closer to solving the riddle - but damn, that man would always be coated in yum.

He lifted his head, the sight of his dark, disheveled hair, eyes glinting with longing in the lamp light, the gorgeous spread of his shoulders, tapering down to the narrow thrust of his hips, made my ovaries ache deep in my belly.

turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the night and forget about the garish sun.

His skin was a pretty colour, it made me jealous. Jacob noticed my scrutiny.What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious."Nothing. I just hadn't realised before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"Once the words slipped out, I worried that he might take my implusive observation the wrong way.But Jacob rolled his eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?" "I'm serious."Well, then, thanks. Sort of."I grinned. "You're sort of welcome.

Alex Barrow__ broad face, with the roughened skin that gave him an air of experience. His powerful, packed, wrestler__ body. The thick black fur at the base of his throat. It was wrong to call him handsome, although all the women did. Really he was almost ugly, but in a stirring, thrilling way that made her shift in her seat as she thought about him.