LOVE LETTER: HANDS ON YOUR BODY

This is what I think about, when I think about you... I don't think about your eyes, like I'd like to tell myself; or about your lips, like I'd tell my friends if they knew about you; or about your PUSSY, as I always imagine my cock it penetrates your tight, wet pussy.... I think about your hands...

When you want me, it's always your hand that goes first. Massaging the back of my neck, and then inching down over my collarbones.Your hands are smart - smarter than you are, probably - and your hands are sweet when you want to be, and they can make me feel calm and drifty, safe and befriended.

But it isn't these nice sweet things I think about. Your hands also do things that make me blush when I remember, things that make me flinch and quickly look for something to stare at on the floor, convinced that anyone who sees me can read my mind. When I think about your hands, these are the things I think about.

I think about my hands pressing you against the wall, one hand pinning your shoulders, the other sliding up your skirt, pushing between your legs, reaching for your clit like it belongs to me. No, not like it belongs to me. Like a thief. Like you knew it doesn't belong to you and I am taking it anyway.

I think about my hands pressing your thighs apart, again like a thief, like a gato burglar opening a window and climbing inside. I think about my hand on the back of your neck, my fingers coiling in my long hair and tightening; I think about my other hand gripping you by the wrist, guiding my your hand between your legs, making you feel your cunt. I think about my hands on your arms, shaking, impatient, maneuvering your body into place.

I think about my fingers spreading your lips opening down there, prying you apart, exposing your clit and studying it fervently as if I'm reading your soul. When I open you up like that, you feel like you are revealing your soul, like your soul has been hiding in your clit and I've discovered it at last; your true soul, the selfish one, the dirty one, the one that wants to be in the perfect world... Where you spend the rest of your life on your back, on your hands and knees, pressed against the wall, with my hands between your legs....