Salon featured an article last month (and yeah, it’s taken me this long to find it… Vikki’s been a busy girl) called I Wanna Hold Your Hand.
My confession, then: I have gone to bed with men, in part, for the beauty or agility or originality of their hands. Some women fall for the curve of a thigh, the slope of a shoulder, the broad welcoming plane of a chest. I fall, instead, for hands. There is an erotic expressiveness in hands that cannot be found in any other part of the body. A hand in slow motion, a hand lifted to push the hair from someone’s eyes, a hand doing something it does naturally and well — this is, for me, the apex of desire.
Hear, hear. I’m so glad I’m not alone in this little world.
Hands are just fascinating, compelling, arousing. Hard, work-roughened hands. Smooth, firm hands with fine hairs sprinkled on top. Broad, muscular hands. [shiver] They’re incredible to watch. The imagination runs amok. You wonder what those hands would feel like on different parts of your body. You wonder if they would grip firmly or caress lightly.
Hands and fingers and palms communicate at times when there’s little else in the room but hushed breathing and soft moans.
Really. Take a look around. There are some wonderful hands out there. 🙂
