Until Even If But Then

Let it go without saying that a dazzling body can complement any type of face on a man.  Off the top of my head, I can think of no exceptions to this maxim.   Possibly there are some men's faces that are so flawed or ravaged or funny that no amount of muscle would make their owners fuckable; I'm just saying that I can't think of a single one.

On the other hand, a beautiful face can compensate for a great many flaws in a man's body, but the effects vary from face to face.

That being said, we can divide men's faces into three broad categories:

One.  Faces that look sexy until the shirt comes off, at which point everything depends on the buffness of the body.

Two.  Faces that look so sexy that, even if the physiques were to be disappointingly scrawny or flabby, the men continue to look fuckable on the strength of the faces alone.

Three.  Faces that look regular, unimpressive, or even ridiculous but then killer thighs, abs, pecs, shoulders, and/or sinewy forearms, perhaps along with a beautifully carved navel and iliac furrow, can and do pretty much compel the jumping of bones.

The untils, even-ifs, and but-thens are not absolute categories.  My even-if may be somebody else's until, and, of course, notions of what constitutes a "sexy" face will vary from person to person.

So let me just define, for the record, what usually constitutes for me the ideal masculine face--the highly desirable even-if face:

Basically we're talking noses here.  A large nose is a turn-on, preferably one that shows signs of having been broken at least once (and I am, yes, aware of the Freudian implications here, though I can't say that they enter into my consciousness when I look at Adrien Brody, Owen Wilson, and, God help me, Ed O'Neill).  Besides the much ballyhooed phallic connotations (or indications), big noses suggest strength to me--power, stamina, even strength of character.  And, of course, the bumps suggest we're looking at a brawler and that alone* is worth twenty or thirty quality points, easy.

(*I cannot possibly overestimate the appeal of fighting to me.  News that Bernard Madoff had got into a scrap in prison last October sent me scurrying to Google Images ... hmmm, may-be .... And, okay, let me go out on a limb here, if I ever heard that Chris Crocker picked a fist fight or decked a You-Tuber with a swift kick to the jaw, that sniveling little twink's libidinous stock would sky-rocket with me.)

We're also talking ears.  Small ears.  Small ears without the fat, wobbly lobes I'm stuck with.  Ears that lie flat or nearly flat against the side of the head ... or ears that stick out like some species of pink nubby coral.  Streamlined ears.  Or ears that look like a newborn's fists.  Or ears that look like they have lives and character of their own, on their own, irrespective of the head that comes between them.  Brian Kenny's ears.

 

Speaking of Kenny, whose body is just fine as it is, check out the cheekbones and jawline.   Yum,  Yes, those too.  Prominent cheekbones are a turn-on, and a strong jawline, the kind that looks like you could break your knuckles against it, is a very very very attractive feature.  And a good chin (not as good as Jay Leno's; still, the only deal-breaker for Adrian Brody is the absence of a chin--Sorry, Adrian, but console yourself that I nevertheless would not kick you out of my bed).

And last ("last" because I cannot rightly count haircuts close to the skull and bulging Adam's apples as facial features), I am attracted more and more to fleshy lips.  I used to be strictly for men with tight, narrow, thoroughly Anglo-Saxon lips, but then George W. Bush came along and ruined those for me ... along with the nation's economy, the environment, national security, respect for the Presidency, and our global image, he ruined thin lips for me.  Now I like full, kissable lips, which are (sick fuck that I am) also bloody-able lips.

You may notice that I have had nothing to say about eyes.  Eyes, the "windows of the soul."  Apart from the fact that I think a face with eyes is more attractive than one without, I have no specific requirements for men's eyes.  They can be manga big or piggishly small, steely or bedroom-y, makes no difference.  Blue, gray, green, brown, black, all are equal in my book of lust.

A quick postscript, on five o'clock shadows, in particular dark ones:  Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

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