I’m the ideal man, one who knows the right things to say. The one who’s touch is just right; not to hard, not to soft. Women close their eyes and envision the most tenderest of moments. I know what they need in every instance, every situation, or every fantasy.
There is only thing that keeps me from perfection. One thing holding me back from being Adonis. I am two-dimensional, a picture depicted in ink. A picture contained within the binds of their favorite book. Not many men can compete against me. Not many man of flesh and bones. Yet, any real man; worth his salt, can destroy me with a glance. Not so much as a whisper.