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TOUCH.

I woke up to the soft caresses of his fingers sliding up and down my spine. Obscurely, I smiled though I made sure to be oblivious to the fact that I was aroused for I feared that he’d stop. There was just something about his touch that I couldn’t withstand or forbear. This touch caused remissions for all my obligations that needed attention when the sun was set to rise. It had been so long since I felt a touch, a soft stroke of man’s finger or a gentle caress of that same man’s hands. I left my body that morning. My flesh was in control and this time, I didn’t mind. This time, I was grateful.

With every entrance and every exit, each arrival and each departure, and all the importations and deportations caused were rhythmical to the melodious implorations and requisitions of my flesh. The vigor that exisited in the thrusting and the propulsions delivered an even more prurient sensation than what existed at his fingertips. He whispered in my ear questions that he wanted my body to respond to, in which they did. My reponses to his interrogative statements permitted our journey to be much more effortless however nevertheless, much much more pleasurable.

He understood what I needed. My body knew what it wanted…and the bale of satisfaction was delivered on time!