A typical 24-year girl who twirls in a myriad graceful posture before the mirror. She hunches down with her one hand around her torso, her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes gleaming in a convincing assurance of her poised self.
She takes a closer look in the mirror and to her woeful dismay, a tiny blemish illuminates brighter than her winsome sensuality, almost spoiling her otherwise perfectly beauteous face.
Of course, it had to be concealed, lest it should repel her new boyfriend away. So she dabbed a small cloth against the foundation and by slowly smearing obliterated the blemish to immaculate perfection.
She turned around and looked again only to discover that her otherwise fetching flat stomach was replaced by a small hideous blob of mass that revoltingly hung in disgrace. She hadn’t hit the gym for so long after all. She had to be very wary of this newfound trouble. It must be kept in wraps and she would have to mind her posture now.
The date went fine and as they returned she was caught off guard as her boyfriend launched himself on her fervently for a passionate steamy lip locking. The date went a little too fine alright.
Only their heavy erotic breaths hung between them as kissed amorously. Beads of perspiration trickled down, as it did it took away the makeup bringing her blemish to the surface. She excused herself for a moment to check.
She shuffled straight to the mirror and looked up close. The blemish was as clear as day. She also checked for her tummy and as she did, her boyfriend grabbed her from behind.
“You look very beautiful tonight,” he said as he kissed her cheeks.
“You don’t really mind this pimple”
“No, of course, I don’t”
“What about this tummy, I have really packed on some pounds since we last met”
He held her tighter than before, took her hands into his and replied: “you are not a spotless trophy for me to brandish honey”.
He then softly whispered in her ears “I love you” and then silence enveloped the air.
I guess men care for makeup far too little than what women believe.
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