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His arms are long, embracing, strong.
Thick muscular wrists.
Slender fingers that tug, tease and play.
When he doesn't shave, the stubble is rough and coarse.
Sometimes it tickles, sometimes it irritates.
His beard softly brushes me.
Soft and beautiful. Dirty and used.
I caress his shoulders and back.
The rise and fall of his chest beneath me.
I feel the throbbing of his heart.
I cling to him.
His sweat is salty, yet invigorating.
I engulf him, I feel his flesh.
My favorite place is below his belt and into his pants.........but, whose wouldn't be?
He's made me feel clean, he's made me feel dirty.
He's taken great care of me, he's tossed me aside.
He slowly opens me.
Fingers......
Button by button.
I fall away. Into the hamper I go.....