Thanks to Ang the Sweltering Celt as always for the weekly themes! (And sorry, yes, I’m late. Ten lashes for the bad blogger.)
I know exactly where I like hands to be on me. Taking a firm grip on the back of my neck, a few fingers through my hair, a palm gliding up my leg, seeking fingertips thrumming in deliciously sensitive areas… yeah, I know where I like to be touched.
Other people’s spots, though, are usually more of a mystery—a delightfully tricky riddle to be solved. A meandering finger around the rim of an ear perhaps, or even a casual drape of the palm over a knee. Or, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, a gentle, unconsciously placed hand on the small of the back, sending the mind to a screeching halt and decadent shivers down the spine. Yeah, he knows where he likes to be touched.
And now, so do I.