I have a thing about hands.
Not all hands, just men’s hands. I have no interest in women’s hands, but men, I always notice their hands.
I like big hands; they need to look strong and powerful. I think the right word might be rugged, a little weather worn, maybe a scar or some sign that those hands have been used for something other than applying moisturizer. Neat short clean nails are must. Long thin fingers leave me cold, I have no desire for your fingers to reach into the back of my womb. No, I want your fingers to fill me, stretch me; I want your fingers to be firm, strong and thick. I don’t want to be in any doubt about the fact that they are inside me.
The right hands will make me wonder; what would they feel like on my neck, my tits, between my thighs. Would those fingers make me gasp as they push into me? Of course having the right hands does not necessarily mean you know what to do with them. Light caresses are lovely in the right moment but if, when the need arises, if you don’t how to use those hands for other, rougher purposes, well, quite frankly, if that turns out to be the case I can’t help but think, what a waste of hands.
@domsigns often teases me about the fact that when we were long distance one of the first pictures I asked him for, apart from a face picture, was a cock shot but actually the first picture I requested, even before the cock shot was one of his hands. He happily obliged and I happy masturbated over the resulting image until a couple of weeks later he sent me a picture to illustrate what effect something I had written for him had had. The picture was of his hand covered in his cum, the sight of which had me reaching into my panties and making myself cum while I imaged him pushing those cum covered fingers into my cunt. Just writing that sentence made me wet. I wish I could find that picture but somewhere along the way between multiple laptop changes it appears to have vanished. Or maybe I wore it out because I wanked over that picture on more occasions than I care to mention.
Of course now we together I don’t need a picture to wank over as I have the real thing. I love his hands, they are strong, big, powerful and he knows how to use them. From gentle caresses to vicious pinches, stinging slaps, muffling my cries and filling my cunt full of them until I cum in gasping shudders around them. They are hands that know my body, inside and out, they are the hands that hold me, touch me, hurt me and love me. They are, to this day, still my wank fodder but now when I cum it is not to the thoughts a picture inspires but to the actuality of those hands owning me.
Ps… Dear Sir, if you felt the urge to replace the cum covered hand image with a new one I would be a very grateful, happy slut!
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