What, in theory, can a man do to turn me on? He can:

Moan.

 

Play with my hair at the nape of my neck.

 

Tell me that he’s nervous because it’s our first date.

 

Fifty dates later, tell me that he still get butterflies when he thinks of me. (And that he fucking loves it.)

 

Harbor some degree of latent nonconformity.

 

Call me a good girl.

 

Let me gently tie and tease within an inch of capacity.

 

Randomly produce a Rubik’s cube from his briefcase and teach me how to solve it as we lounge naked in bed.

 

Tell me what he felt when he read this erotic story I wrote.

 

When we’re alone, describe his various unrequited fantasies we might indulge in delicious detail…

 

Let me do that one thing I’ve only been able to do since undergoing an adult tonsillectomy in 2019.

 

Possess a growth mindset.

 

Hold my hair while my head is betwixt.

 

Ask me to workshop his Linkedin copy during our date.

 

Kiss my neck in the heat of the moment.

 

Trust me with the parts of himself he often feels the need to hide.

 

Grab my firm ass with equally firm conviction.

 

Go slow and deep.

 

Laugh at my jokes.

 

Protest when I declare my intent to spoil him, but allow me follow through with it anyway.

 

Share his favorite music with me.

 

Take a business call while I tease him from the bed.

 

Sport a lingering hint of soap instead of cologne.

 

Don his glasses to read the menu.

 

Be a man of action.

 

Invest in my investments.

 

Teach me something new.

 

Be his most authentic self, idiosyncrasies and all.