Revenge of the nerds

There is only one thing that turns me on more than dancing (see former post) with a hot guy. Well, actually there is two, but right now having a hot guy who loves me and wants to fuck me is not an option, so I’ll have to do with my number two on the list. And it’s a good one. I get turned on so much by intelligence. I love (lovelovelovelove!) it when a guy know so much, is so smart, has read so much and is overall so fucking intelligent that he has me in awe…

The reason I am writing this, is because I have only just realised what I like about my fuckbuddy. It isn’t that he is good in bed (sometimes, but most of the times he isn’t), it isn’t that he is beautiful (there is this ‘thing’ about him, but he isn’t handsome), it isn’t that I like his character (he’s nice alright, but not that inspiring). I just love his brain. He is soooo fucking smart. And coming from me, a girl who has had an intelligence-fetish for all her life, that means a lot.

This is what turns me on and fascinates me about this guy: he has hundreds of books, in at least six languages, and has read them all. He wrote his thesis on scientific philosophy in two weeks. While taking another mayor in a completely different field at the same time. He can explain all that to me. He’ll learn a language “for fun”. He has principles, but is philosopher enough to know it is not necessarily the truth.

And most of all: when he swears or talks on intimate subjects with his sister, he speaks French. Fluently. I love this because I can’t. Because it’s hard. And because it is hot to hear a guy talking about you, saying: “Nous? Nous avons coucher ensemble.”*

I can resist smart men. Really, I can. But smart men who speak French…

You want an illustration of my intelligence-fetish? Today we were talking. Some stuff on the difference between modern and postmodern views on truth, the role of exact science in that, how this can be combined with ‘living well’ and a non-linear view of history. You know, interesting stuff. The conversation fascinated me.  After a while I went to the bathroom, only to find out my panties were soaked! We hadn’t even kissed. Forget foreplay, just talk to me!

* Never mind the spelling. I suck at languages.