Work Text:
His Hands
By blairbear
What is it about those hands?
They way they move when he writes, gripping a pencil or pen. I wish I could feel them on me -- just once -- moving that way. Holding steadfastly onto me, while making my body pulse with pleasure.
The way they move over his keyboard, almost caressing the keys. Would he ever consider caressing me the same way? God; I'm jealous of those keys.
The way they move when he unbuttons his shirt. What would they feel like -- unbuttoning my shirt the same way?
Would he ever see me in that light? Would he ever want to touch and caress me?
I can imagine how many women he's used those hands on. Unbuttoning, unzipping, or unhooking their clothing.
Sliding those hands and fingers across her bare skin; making her tingle with pleasure.
I must have been consumed by my musings, because suddenly he is behind me; those hands on my neck and shoulders, massaging away the stress of the day.
So. this is what heaven feels like.
End for now. Wonder what body part will be next?