I love the smallness of your hands, the neatness of each fingernail, the crease of your beautiful eyes as you wince at waking. You call me dear, or be...utiful, as if it was as much my name as my birth certificate. Every time you do I feel my soul curl like a leaf in the blessing of light, and I reach for you, full point, to kiss the lips that spoke to me. You are a secretive man with no secrets. I know everything and nothing and sometimes I wonder why. I have seen you fall to the ground,. Even through the material, I could feel he was large. My slender fingers barely managed to cup him while I stroked him, my lips still bothering his nipples. Cheeks flaming, I struggled with the button, failing miserably until he chuckled and undid it for me. He was hot, velvet, and smooth; alive in my hands.And I rose from his lap onto my knees to catch the moan on his lips, cupping his balls in an unsure hold.“This will be over before it has even started,” he said. “Stand up for me.” His hands. More

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