One of the things about not seeing each other as often as we would like to, is that we make the most of every moment together. When we cuddle up, sated, I still can’t resist touching him. I caress him with my finger tips. Running my hand over his skin, stroking his shoulders, his arms, his chest… and, of course, my hand moves lower. I love touching him. I adore taking my time after the desperate urgency of earlier. It’s intimate and luxurious.

It’s no surprise that after a while, there is always something more.

Sinful Sunday

18 Replies to “Intimate Touch”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *