If I’m checking you out, I’m probably thinking about your hands and your wrists. And if your sleeves are pushed up, I’m fixating on your forearms, watching the movement of the sinews as you play with your phone, or your lighter, or your drink. Forearms make me think about sex. They often hold me in place when I’m pressed cheek to wall.
Your hands can penetrate my body, so it’s impossible for me to see them, and see you, and not think about sex. They slide into my pants and stroke me until I’m wet and desperate. They make their way up my skirt to feel how hot I am, or they’re teasing, or they take ownership of my cunt and tits, or they cover my mouth and hold me down, or they’re positively gentle and sweet and loving with the warmest, most affectionate touch. If I’m looking at you in a public place, there’s a good chance I’m looking at your hands and thinking about what they could do to me.
It’s a near certainty that I’ll never say hello, though. When I’m checking you out, I’m also thinking about how I wouldn’t know where to begin, how even if I had your number, I wouldn’t know whether to call it, and not because I don’t want to fuck you, because I most certainly do. It’s because I’m thinking about all the things I can’t tell you. And if I’m still looking at you, however slyly, I’m probably thinking about what a shame that is, and how sometimes I wish I had a normal life and a normal identity and no secrets at all.
So I look for a while, and I smile a little, and then I go.
*
I’m in touch with the French boy. I won’t know whether I’ll see him until I’m on the other side of the Atlantic, but I’m ambivalent enough to toss a coin on the issue.
That settles it!! I’m joining a gym to work on my forearms!
Good luck across the pond. Not that you need any. Consider it foreign relations.
Ah…
Reading this just makes my mind just go off. The style of your writing and the implicit detail you convey through your words makes me want to pin you up against the wall and take decisive action against you.
Pinning you hard against the wall, I’d slide my hands up your legs, hike up your skirt, and feel every inch of your subtle skin. After feeling how wet you are, I’d arch your back with your body still pressed against the wall – thus exposing your beautiful ass, and spank you so hard until I could see the redness in each of your cheeks. I can only imagine what would transpire from there.
Ahhh…..
Medical alert
Pulse rate 180. Bathed in sweat. Seeking alcohol to bring heart rate back down.
Great descriptive and erotic writing… loving your style and words having just discovered your blog, thanks for putting so much into words and sharing your inspiring thoughts and experiences.
Phil.
Hampshire.
England.
I was a skinny kid of about 18-19 when I had a summer job as an ironworker. All 110 lbs of me browned form the sun. A handsome friend of mine who seemed to attract the girls with his easy smile and rangy but fit frame was working beside me as we used 8 lb ‘beaters’ to pound in the re-bar. He pointed out to me to check the skin on my for-arms for the day. Flexed you couldn’t even really grasp a flap of skin because the skin was the same size as always and the arm was swollen from the several hours of abuse. He knew I had a bit of a crush on Patty who had a crush on him. “So he says to me, keep swinging that sledge, Patty likes strong forearms.”
This reminded me of endless workouts in even younger days, trying unsuccessfully to coax weight onto my runner’s frame. I would delight at veins in my forearms, after a friend reported that his sister’s answer to “What do girls find sexy in guys?” was “Veins in their forearms.”
Well here was something my unique physique would allow. I’d have forearms of a blacksmith. I worked myself that day to the point that I could not raise my arms above my waist by the end of the day.
In all the intervening years, you are now only the third woman I have heard of to find forearms specifically sexy. At this point in my life, I am actually glad that years of office work has reduced mine. Don’t need Popeye arms giving me away when I crossdress!
-The Geek
old lovers
only her left nipple
becomes erect
- Lee Gurga