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Yet they had a strength about them, an enticing dexterity that made me wish he was tapping them in a far more intimate place—a place that was growing warmer and wetter with each flex of his graceful knuckles. Perhaps he had a hobby or a vocation that required strong fingers. Maybe he was a pianist or a masseuse. I sighed in relief when I found no ring on his left hand, although I was baffled as to how anyone attached to those exquisite hands could possibly be single. As he held out his credit card to the cashier, he glanced over his shoulder at me. That was the first time I looked away from his hands and took in the rest of him. Unremarkable, really, in comparison to his hands. Neither tall nor short, thin nor fat. Roughly my age. Apparently in good health. Inviting mouth, with a welcoming smile and the white teeth of someone who eschewed coffee, tea, and tobacco. Not unattractive, but not stunning either. He smelled of a woodsy soap, rugged and pleasant. And he carried himself with. I turned on the music that was Hauntingly sexual and made me move the way I wanted to for him. I approached home from behind taking the scarf from my hair and blindfolding him. Definitely something we had never done before. But that’s what I wanted for him. I kissed his neck taking bites along the way as I rubbed my hands over his chest. Never taking my hands from him I walk to the front of him leaning down kissing his lips with a soft mouth turning a different direction each time. Down his neck my lips traveled as I removed his shirt. As I caressed his body with my hands my lips traveled to his nipples circling each one with my tongue followed by tiny bites. I replaced my tongue with my hands as I buried my face in his crotch breathing in the scent of him and feeling just how hard he was for me. As many times as this man had brought me to orgasm to depths impossible, I found myself dripping for him! As I stood I removed my bra and turned my.
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