Touch....

Have you ever just wanted to touch someone? Something about their skin, their body, their energy is drawing you to them… hand outstretched in anticipation of reaching contact with their skin. One finger lands first, nervously; unsure of what the other’s reaction will be…unsure of what the skin will feel like. A couple more fingers land on his chest and you feel a wider space of smoothness. You feel ripples of muscles. You feel rising nipples and flexing pecks. Your full hand slides down to his deep dips of his abs and moves slowly to his waist. You hold firm to his waist. Astounded by physique. His body creates spasms in your body, from the euphoric high in your head to the electricity going through your toes. His body causes the yoni to throb…and swell…and moisten. Your hand slides from his waist, hating to part it and moves across to his belly button. You circle your finger around his belly button, creating slight chills on his torso. Again, you stop. The waves are coming over you, because you’re about to reach your kryptonite. You’re about to glide your hand down his lower torso, where his draws rest and then his jeans being held up by his belt. Your mouth becomes dry and your yoni overflows. You lick your lips. You look him in the eye and smile. You reach down past his draws, across his buckled pants and touch his zipper and the bulge begging to bust through. Your hand feels the heat coming off his pants and your body is on fire. Your fingers slide down the length of him, tease the tip of his head until you can feel him growing more in his encaged cell. And then you stop. Your curiosity has been satisfied. You have touched him and he has caused your body to become overly aroused in minutes. You have touched him and he is ready to commence to screwing. You reach down quickly and give him one last full-handed grab, bend over to his ear, and whisper, “Tag. You’re it.”  And you leave.

Have you ever just wanted to touch someone?