The sensuality of touch  

MT1954
0 posts
9/26/2005 11:55 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The sensuality of touch


I've always had this amazing thing with my hands - somehow I feel it's chemical, intrinsic... it has to be. When my hands touch the skin of someone I'm attracted to, a connection is made which is almost ethereal. Their desires flow to my brain in a flood, and my hands instantly respond, spreading out to touch, caress...to pursue that connection, travel along its path, and just create this environment that is all enveloping, intense, so intensely sexual... I hope I'm describing this well.
I've had a lifelong fascination for a certain body type, lithe...sometimes tiny in stature, sometimes tall, they've been dancers, ballet and otherwise, and athletes, artists, singer or two... when we make love we dance...it's been a common thread...a sinuous tango against the wall, on a table, in bed sometimes even (!) my hands define this dance, softly and firmly taking control of their bodies, flowing over the hips and the firm dip of their bellies. Lovely breasts of all description, to hold, and caress, and weigh...nipples to pinch ha!
Hands against cheek, cupping faces, entwined in long tresses, seizing, face turning, eyes limpid pools of desire.
I love to seize their hips as they kneel in front of me. legs spread, back arched, and slide my hands down their thighs pushing strong legs further apart, stroking delicious derrieres into position before me - upturned, open, lips parted, wetness glistening...Move my weight up their backs, skin to skin, and make them aware of my cock, now rock hard - my cock is like my fingers... I can feel desire, and intention, and weakness, through the skin of my cock...
The tango continues as we focus on something that is bringing us great pleasure, my hands are drawn to this nerve point relentlessly, artistically...
I love to glide my hands along smooth silky thighs, painting pictures on a writhing frame, and slide fingers into the folds of a wet wet pussy. Pushing lips apart, stroking.
Grasping slender necks, strong shoulders, lovely bone structures to trace.
Hmmmmm, I could go on and on and on...
But my body, especially my hands and my hips, is always dancing, locked in a writhing embrace...
MT

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