Let me just say this upfront: I’m not hard to please. I love love, I love connection, and I love a slow burn that turns into a fire. But what I don’t love? When a guy thinks “buttering a girl up” means offering a half-hearted shoulder squeeze and a “you look good tonight” before diving into a boob like it owes him money.
Exhibit A: Travis the Human Pop-Tart.
Travis and I had a short-lived thing—emphasis on the short. The man was hot, funny, smelled like pine and expensive decisions, and could parallel park like a god. But when it came to intimacy? Homeboy had the finesse of a raccoon in a garbage can.
One night, after a pretty decent dinner (he let me order dessert—how generous), he leaned in with that grin and whispered, “You ready for round two?” Sir. I haven’t even digested round one. And I’m still emotionally in the parking lot.
He thought because he paid for dinner and told me I had “really soft skin,” I’d be melting like brie on a baguette. Newsflash, Travis: that ain’t butter. That’s margarine. Fake. Rushed. Unfulfilling.
So, for all the Travises of the world—and the well-meaning guys who mean to get it but somehow don’t—let’s break it down.
🧈 Butter 101: For Men Who Think a Back Rub is Foreplay
1. Foreplay starts at brunch, not the bedroom.
If you’re only nice to me when you want sex, that’s not romantic—it’s performance-based affection. I’m not a slot machine; don’t pull my lever and expect fireworks.
2. Be casually sexy, not situationally creepy.
Telling me you’ve been thinking about me all day? Cute. Telling me you’ve been thinking about what I’d look like tied up in red rope since Tuesday? Maybe… slow your roll, Houdini.
3. Verbal caresses go further than physical ones.
Yes, I want you to touch me—but I also want to hear why you want me. Something more than “you’re so hot.” Try “you make my brain melt” or “your laugh gives me butterflies.” Now we’re talking.
4. If you’re emotionally unavailable but physically eager, that’s a mismatch.
I’m not trying to sleep with a wall that occasionally moans. Give me connection. Vulnerability. A peek inside the fortress of your mind.
5. The vibe should be a duet, not a solo act.
If you don’t ask me what I like, what I want, or what feels good—you’re just auditioning for a part I didn’t cast you in.
TL;DR: You can’t skip the soft and go straight to the sizzle.
Treat intimacy like cooking a steak: Room temperature, slow prep, butter-basted in intention, and served sizzling. Not frozen, rushed, and thrown on a plate like you’re feeding a frat house at midnight.
So yeah—shoutout to Travis for teaching me what not to settle for. Wherever you are, I hope you’ve upgraded your technique. And maybe invested in a little bit of actual butter.
Or at least a cookbook.