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Looking for girlfriend > Looking for a husband > I want a guy to hold me

I want a guy to hold me

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Top definition. Hold it down unknown. To maintain someone or to 'hold someone down'. Meaning to keep someone interested and committed to you without showing hesitation on your part.

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Because I created King --a popular men's magazine full of beautiful, scantily clad women with bodies that could make guys do unspeakable things--many people think my life is filled with drunken one-night stands, that I wake up in a different hotel room each day next to sex-fueled, celebrity-chasing video vixens.

This is so far from the truth. I'm a devoted husband of seven years, happily married to the woman of my dreams. The wandering eye that all of us men are born with loses focus when a love supreme fills the soul cavity.

I judge beauty and sexiness for a living, and it's an easy job--if it looks good, it goes in the magazine. To judge your life partner, someone to raise kids with, to grow old with, to share your vulnerabilities with, that takes a lot more than a lustful glance. I met Tinika in high school when I was a junior and she was a sophomore, and though she is beautiful, what has always attracted me to her most is her drive.

No matter how big or small the event or project, she gets it done and gets it done now. I just copy her. She got her driver's license the moment she could. I was a year older--I couldn't have her driving before me! Same thing happens now around tax time--my W-2s sit and collect dust until I hear how much she's getting back in her refund, and then I call my accountant. She motivates my lazy ass, and I love her dearly for it.

I pray that we stay strong for as long as we both shall live I get dirty text messages, and she's very affectionate in public. I love that she keeps the juices flowing, and I'm pretty sure she always will. I crave The Look. The one my wife still shoots me after many years--a little coy, a little cocky, a little innocent, a little sophisticated, always subtle. It says: I am a grown woman.

I am beautiful. Lots of men could be looking at me right this minute. And I'm looking at you. I remember being at a swanky press party one evening in Manhattan, trying to find her across a roomful of celebrities.

Then, as if a lamp lit up from within her, Margaret appeared--tall, fresh and gorgeously turned out. Her eyes found mine, and she beamed me The Look. Everyone else suddenly vanished. It was so delicious I damn near passed out. I am totally, willingly, gloriously hooked on my wife--as she is on me, I admit. But it wasn't always like this. Before our wedding in , we'd already been together for a good 10 years. All the while, even though she's sexy, smart, talented, flirty and feminine--in a word, dangerous--I engaged in various forms of emotional resistance, always keeping something to myself--in a word, scared.

Marriage not only worked out, but actually intensified our relationship. Nearly four years ago Margaret was diagnosed with ovarian cancer she's now doing OK. Since then I've done some looking of my own, at the hand I've been dealt: four aces and a wild card. That's the best anyone can ever hope for. That just kills me. I have no idea why that reverse sigh makes me want to be with her forever, but it does.

When I first started dating my wife, Emily, I was amazed how easy she was. I don't mean like that. I mean to talk to. We could discuss anything--Chinese food and gangster movies, former relationships and family stuff, character flaws and personal failings. Even when we disagreed, there was never any tetchiness, it never got stilted.

I remember forcing a smile in past relationships after the person I was with had said something that didn't gibe with my way of thinking. Or biting my tongue, lest I be misunderstood. Usually it didn't seem worth getting deeper into it--with the potential for hurt feelings or further confusion liable to spoil what was otherwise a reasonably enjoyable evening.

But that holding back itself was difficult. Faking it, even just in the little ways most of us do most of the time, takes effort, and I'm tired at the end of the day. The rest of life is hard enough as it is--with poor cellular connections and radioactive seafood and the war and whatnot--without having to tiptoe around the conversational pitfalls that can land a person in the dark, feeling lonely and alien, even while you're sitting right across from someone at a table in a restaurant.

Or worse, lying next to her in bed. I figure the best chance for a good night's sleep comes by ending the day as comfortably as you can.

With nothing on your chest, no stress you're keeping secret. I figure you'd better be lying down next to a person you can tell your weirdest dreams, your darkest thoughts, your fruitiest feelings, your very worst fears.

For me, that's Emily. And that's what keeps me hooked. That, and she lets me touch her boobs. I mean, we do, a lot, and we argue sometimes, but we are so connected, it's not necessary to say anything. I have friends I've known for years, and it feels awkward if there's silence with them, but with her, it's the most natural thing ever.

Maura I can't use her real name is classy. I mean that in the old-fashioned way. I have never seen her be disloyal, sling mud or lose her dignity. I have seen her angry--she's not a saint--but even when she swears, it comes out as spicy punctuation added at just the right moment. She has the class of those women from the past, the ones who understood men and instinctively knew how to handle one without resorting to petulance. It was the trait that stood out above all the others, the one that I have never stopped marveling over.

We met through work, and I developed a mad crush that has, over the years, mellowed into love. Declaring my feelings would not only be futile but would create so much awkwardness, I might lose a friend. My reluctance, and her innate modesty, means, I think, that she has no inkling of my feelings. I have pushed my love for her into a small, safe spot in my heart that I visit occasionally when I feel the need for that same pleasant sensation I felt when we first met. I am not bitter or sad or lonely.

I do not pine. I am in love with another woman now--I have a life to live, and it is possible to love two people at the same time. My feelings have never diminished, but dwelling on all the good reasons why we can never be together is pointless. Mostly I feel lucky to have such a friend. In fact, even if she were to be suddenly single, and my current love were to leave me, I don't think I'd make a move. I wouldn't want to risk our friendship, for one thing, but I also wouldn't want to expose my feelings to the elements of a life truly lived together.

We have never at least not in the way lovers do shared tragedy, or dirty dishes in the sink, or worry over money, or the petty annoyances of daily life. And so my love for her remains the sweetest I have ever known. She cooks anything. Spanish, Cajun, Ethiopian, whatever inspires her.

She pulls ideas from cookbooks but rarely follows a recipe. She dreams about food and is great with flavors.

Every night Lori makes us a wonderful dinner, and I feel blessed. My wife is strikingly beautiful. She's ninety-ninth percentile beautiful.

Am I a totally objective judge? No, but here are just a few things that take my breath away:. But if you asked me what I couldn't live without, what I need above all else, what I've worshipped since the very first day we met, I would tell you with a smile: her hips. Round and sensual, those hips are what transform my wife from simply beautiful to incredibly sexy. They take a hard turn from her waist and then softly curve down to her thighs, a perfect combination of forcefulness and femininity.

My eyes, hands and oftentimes lips find them at all the obvious moments--when dancing, kissing hello and goodbye, in bed--but also sneak there when we pass each other in the hallway, cook together, brush our teeth side by side. While she's working at her desk, I will get down on my knees, place my head in her lap and wrap my arms around them without provocation. Earlier this year she gave birth to our first child and now spends a lot of time talking about getting back to her pre-baby body as I type this she's next to me doing squats.

I wish I could convince her that though I'll love her forever no matter what shape she's in, having these extra-voluptuous hips to grab onto makes life together all the sweeter. Topics what men want dating advice marriage migrated

What Keeps a Guy Hooked on You For Life

Human beings are genetically programmed to desire love. Embraces are as important to us as food and water. We feel it and yet we hide it away, write it off as an odd case of commitment phobia or just a hiccup in our new relationship, oblivious to the fact that were heading into a future of sleepless nights, constant worrying, and consistent phone checking.

Because I created King --a popular men's magazine full of beautiful, scantily clad women with bodies that could make guys do unspeakable things--many people think my life is filled with drunken one-night stands, that I wake up in a different hotel room each day next to sex-fueled, celebrity-chasing video vixens. This is so far from the truth.

April 4th, by Nick Notas 11 Comments. Last week I wanted to give some hard-hitting advice. So I wrote a post on harsh dating truths that men need to hear. But, it would be unfair to only focus on men when there are many women who could use the same reality check, too. Withholding sex does not ensure a man will commit.

Are you trying to get someone you're crazy about to hold your hand? Or are you trying to figure out the best way to initiate holding hands with someone you like? Either way, there are some easy steps you can follow in order to get to this crucial and romantic first step. When you're holding hands, just grip the other person's hand lightly. You don't want to squeeze too hard or too soft. If you want to hold hands on a date, start by looking for subtle signs that your date is interested in holding hands, like grabbing your arm or playfully pushing you. You should also wait for a private time, like when you're sitting in a movie theater. Once you feel the time is right, reach out and gently take the other person's hand. To make it feel natural, carry on talking if you're in the middle of a conversation. However, don't make an issue of it if your date pulls away, since they may not be ready to hold hands just yet.

When Eden Carver, Iowa farm girl turned NY actress, decides to seduce the sexy cop next door, she begins to wonder if she's bitten off more than she can chew. The last thing Officer Jay Bennett wants is to cross a line with the sweet and innocent country girl—no matter how much he'd like to help himself to a nibble. But when she asks him to help her rehearse lines, and things go from simmer to boil, he finds himself doing the one thing he swore he'd never do. He knows he needs to walk away from temptation, but when sweet little Eden bites back, it tilts his world on its axis.

My name is Tania Venita Ann Banks.



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Jan 1, - A great deal of evidence indicates that the need for secure attachment never disappears; it evolves into the adult need for a secure emotional.








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