One of the sexiest things in the world is seeing the outline of a man's erect cock pressed up against the material of his trousers.

It's just so hot.

Any fabric works for this delightful treat: denim, corduroy, cotton, or if you are feeling slightly daring, some pvc or leather. And if the guy isn’t wearing underwear, even better. Is there anything sexier than being able to trace the full, unrestricted outline of a hard cock through a pair of jeans with no underwear in between? I think not.

Don't get me wrong; I am a huge fan of the erect naked member, as much as, if not more than the next girl. I've been known to worship a few gorgeous specimens of manhood in my time, giving as much love, adoration and attention as I can to this most wonderful part of the man's body.

But I adore seeing a hard straining cock pushed up against the guys’ clothes. I love that the material ends up being a type of mini-prison for him, his cock aching to get out from behind the ‘bars’ of the his trousers. Seeing that bulge – that unrestricted growing shape, battling for space in the trouser department - is like a drug to me.

I suppose it gets me off that the fabric of his clothes prevents my having immediate access to his cock; it makes me want him all the more because of the restriction there. To know, to see, to feel, that a guy is hard, but not be able to immediately touch him - flesh to flesh - against me, makes me crazy.

When a guy I'm seeing, shows me his own personal appreciation of his attraction to me, by whispering in my ear,

"I'm so hard for you";

or he looks down at his crotch smiling, showing me his hard form;
or he presses himself against me, so I can feel his hardness;
or he takes my hand and gently presses it against his growing bulge,

well, I just can't help myself. Like a participant in Pavlov’s conditioning experiment, I begin to salivate, a miniature waterfall begins to flow from down below, and I am filled with an uncontrollable desire to eat: to slide his cock into my mouth and gobble it all up hungrily.

So you see, with this in mind, when I think about some of the qualities I enjoy in a man, I am quite happy for him not to bother with the same tried and tested boring flowers, chocolate and underwear when he is trying to get in my pants/apologise/impress me (delete where applicable): all he needs is a sharp intellect, the ability to make me laugh, and have a dirty enough mind to know that his half-hidden hard cock will have me begging to be fucked by him pronto.