If you were writing a novel that had a character that looked like Audrey, how would you describe her?

Her perky boinkers poked sexily from under her plain Jane sweater. It was just cold enough that I could discern her feminine nipples from under the heavy fabric, and my imagination swirled, contemplating the size of her areola and the shade of pink flesh on her pale bosom. She gave me a look, a look that told me she was aware and perhaps taken aback by my forwardness, but there was no disapproval in her eyes. No, this archaic vixen of yesteryear wanted my schlongy doo-dad.

The girl wore a black sweater and the light didn't go past her chest. Her bangs were cut flat. Her eyebrows were flat. She looked like Audrey Hepburn. She opened her mouth and talked like Audrey Hepburn. This was Audrey Hepburn, in her prime. She took the 38 Chief's Special from her back pocket and put it on the table. It was a nice gun. There was a greasy spot on the handle. She had eaten pizza or something. I didn't care. I gave her the money.

She had a huge mouth, flat Mongolian features, heavily painted eyes, a coconut coiffure, long nails without varnish, a wonderfully lithe figure, a long neck, but perhaps too scraggy.

She had enormous heron’s eyes and dark eye-brows slanted towards the Far East. Her facial features show character rather than prettiness: the bridge of the nose seems almost too narrow to carry its length, which bares into a globular tip with nostrils startlingly like a duck’s bill. Her mouth is wide, with a cleft under the lower lip too deep for classical beauty, and the delicate chin appears even smaller by contrast with the exaggerated width of her jaw bones. Seen at the full, the outline of her face is perhaps too square; yet she intuitively tilts her head with a restless and perky asymmetry.

She is like a portrait by Modigliani where the various distortions are not only interesting in themselves but make a completely satisfying composite.

Beneath this child-like head (as compact as a coconut with its cropped hair and wispy monkey-fur fringe) is a long, incredibly slender and straight neck.

A rod-like back continues the vertical line of the nape, and she would appear exaggeratedly tall were it not for her natural grace.

Her stance is a combination of an ultra fashion plate and a ballet dancer. Indeed, she owes a large debt to the ballet for her bearing and abandon in movement, which yet suggest a personal quality, an angular kinship with cranes and storks. She can assume almost acrobatic poses, always maintaining an innate elegance in her incredibly lithe torso, long, flat waist, tapering fingers and endless legs.

She looked like a sweet girl next door from yesteryear. Her soft bosom called to me like she wanting to be ravaged, her innocent eyes fixated on my bulging manhood.

I used to erotic fiction when I was 13 and in high school, btw.

I would describe him like a boy

And no one would envision an Audrey

>describing how characters look

kek

Audrey Hepburn possessed a beauty that has never been matched before or since.

She had it all. She had the natural grace of an aristocrat (which she was), accompanied with the down to Earth charm of a girl who had known suffering during the war.

She had the beautiful swan-like poise of a ballerina (which she was) but also the vulnerability of a child who had been abandoned by her Father.

Her presence was undeniable so much so that she won the Oscar for her first American Movie. Gregory Peck chose to share top billing with her in Roman Holiday because he recognised she was an icon before the World even knew her.

Her Life was shrouded in mystery because she opted to raise and look after her Children in Switzerland rather than live the Hollywood high life.

Then towards the end of her life she became involved in UNICEF, choosing to help the world's poorest and most vulnerable.

You will never have another Audrey Hepburn because the world that made her doesn't exist anymore. It's gone. That's why her ideal of femininity is still looked up to today by Young Girls who yearn to try and emulate her. When you take into consideration that she straddled the line between the Golden Age of Hollywood and Modern Cinema, she is herself the ultimate celebration of female beauty. It can never be captured better than within the Person of Audrey Hepburn, Hollywood Icon.

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here eyebrows are 200%

fucking excellent. nobel prize worthy

Her tilting tits, not titanic nor cause for titubation, but titillating titty tissue nonetheless, caused a tingle in my trousers.

She looked at me thirstily. Each delicate feature on her face contributed to an overwhelming sense of innocence. But she was far from it. A subtle wink and my Boinger erupted. Ounces- no, liters of seminal fluid plumed out with the first violent eruption. Each subsequent tremor came with it its own release. One after another they continued, each one more benevolent than the previous, until the fluid was no more- completely drained. Still- the spasms showed no sign of stopping. Divorced from the fluid that surrounded it, my penis continued to pulse in a rhythmic pattern. I looked over at her. She looked back.

I would simply call her young shorty. Dressed in typical antiquated young shorty appearel. Her face had a quant young shorty kind of feeling.

Hepburnescent.

I would describe her appearance as ratty and mudied.

best prose itt

It’s called a bullet bra

No, I don't know the one. Tell me what it is. Now... I want to read it.

Audrey was a plain-jane kind of girl, perhaps a notch or two above what you'd normally find in these kinds of small towns, and she knew it and compensated for it using her personality: all the daintiness and poise of an old country aristocrat with none of the pretentiousness that came with the look. And if she was pretentious, she had so little of it that it never became more than a kind of slight prudishness, always tinged with self-awareness and an inviting, nonjudgmental flirtiness; she'd never uncross her legs and let you see up her skirt, but she'd quietly acknowledge you—perhaps with a slight tilt of the head or a playful raise of the dark eyebrows—if she caught you admiring the perfect curve of her neck under the shadow of her dark hair or the tender firmness of her calves where they lay pressed against the front of the lawn chair.

I would describe her appearance as "made for BBC".

The malnourished, gaminesque american skittered across the room on narrow feet, swaying at times from breezes from the open window. Her heavily lidded eyes flutter like beetle carapace, and her angular jaw cut the breeze into two whistling zephyrs. Her nostrils were like two divine portals carved in the cliffs of an ancient valley. My mum said she was too thin, and said she would struggle to bear my children.

my character would look like this instead

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"She looked like an ugly little boy with long hair and breasts"

>She looked like Audrey Hepburn.

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>Audrey
Who?

"you could feel the stank radiating off this bitch, gawd damn"

With all the grace of a Jewish paper doll.

She was the type of girl who gave me a chubby whenever I looked at her.

voca.ro/1lvhU2JGfgaW

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overall 6/10

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>She holds herself with the nearly instinctual grace that only money, privilege, and time can imbue in a young woman. Her features are attractive and clearly maintained fastidiously from years of training in the uses of makeup. Every pose and every expression she makes has been selected and then rehearsed a thousand times for maximal impact - she knowingly creates a masterful template for the viewer to project his idealized female fantasies. Whether she's quick to tire, snappish with the help, or simply dismissive of anything that doesn't pertain to adulation of her image we'll never know. At least not in the carefully selected images we're allowed to see.

"built for BBC"

A slanted, heavy brow that hovered starkly above features that spoke of soft femininity. A traditional beauty, grounded and mundane and out-of-place among artificial angles and glamorous curves. Delicate, like a little sparrow, with a weary intensity in her gaze that was disarming in the most welcome way. Nipples that looked like they could pierce your skin if you held her too close.

based
cringe

>5/10 for pornography
>2/10 for precise prose poetry

0/10

For sale: Tits, never grown

I would describe her bent over being mercilessly rammed by my gorgeous penor, her lithe body sweating, my hands freely using her small tits for handles before I flip her over and she asks:
>is it time for breakfast at tiffanies?
And she goes to town on my thobbing cock. She would then gablelly say
>This is better than any Roman Holiday
shit would be so cash

she was HOT and CUTE and had PRETTY EYEBROWS and LONG EYELASHES and and LONG HAIR and BIT TITS and a PERKY ASS and she made me COOM

I would describe her by writing a short story about Ben Shapiro being forcibly transformed into a woman, leaving his trademark eyebrows as the only evidence of who he once was.

mousey brunette

she looked just like Audrey Hepburn

I'm shit at writing but I think the reason she's so pretty is because of these unique facial proportions - her chin is really small, the midsection of her face (from the root of the nose to the eyebrows) is standard, her forehead is small but her cranium is large like a babies'. Her doe-like eyes with positive canthal tilt aren't that unique but look striking because of the small lips, forehead, and chin. It's a rare mix of graceful ladylike - neotenous traits

HE BELIEVES IN A BEAUTY

>tfw no audrey gf

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Who was the lucky man to impregnate this woman?

When perfection became a woman.

Gosh. She was so pretty.

god you lit fags put way too many gay words into your replies. brevity is the soul of wit you niggers

nigger, if you think i put too many words into describing audrey hepburn, just wait till you read how i describe the korean vampire femdomme in my novel