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The Surprising Truth About What’s Beautiful
She’s a Botticelli, and he’s smitten. A tale of preferences at my local gym
The woman was facing away from me when I first noticed her. She was short, probably six inches shorter than I am. At least my weight and then some.
Her body was all curves. She had on long green leggings which emphasized her bottom. She was small-breasted, her hair long and brown, cascading over her shoulders. She had a sweet face. She looked like someone out of a Peter Paul Rubens painting. When she moved, she did so with the kind of grace that was reminiscent of sheer summer curtains billowing in a late afternoon breeze.
The entire time she was in the gym I didn’t see her pick up a single weight.
Her gym companion is a regular. He’s got biceps like basketballs, his body hard and sculpted. I see him every afternoon. Every gym has a few guys like this: he’s huge. The girls are all giving him sideways glances.
The general assumption is that guys like this one want stick-thin fitness models. Perfect bodies. Just like theirs.
That couldn’t be further from the truth.
He was obviously seriously, hopelessly smitten with this girl. A girl whom many in the gym world would…