His Hands
by Dizzy
His hands read my body as accurately as his fingers read Braille. He loves to undress me, slowly pushing my shirt up my chest and over my head. He runs the pads of his finger tips across my tight nipples. His hands memorize the dips and creases of my stomach and chest. His hands are sure and certain as they unbutton and unzip my pants. The strength in his hands as they grip my hips and pulls me forward for a kiss excite me even more. Sight is not missed here in our bedroom as I glory in his hands.
~*~
On to Those Hands
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