Look down
The length of your arms.
Look to your hands.
No longer are they your hands,
They are my hands.
Your fingers, my fingers.
Their touch, my touch.
Their caress, my caress.

My words touch your mind,
Your heart, your soul.
Now let me touch
All of your body
With my new found hands.

Feel my fingertips tracing
The outline just below
Your delicate jaw.
Following a path
To beneath your chin,
Then down to the hollow
Of your sensual throat
Where I can feel your moans.

Fingers follow the curves
Of your naked flesh.
Your delicate shoulders,
The round fullness
Of your breasts.
A gentle tug at the
Aroused and throbbing ends.

Both hands placed
On your soft, firm stomach.
Down further onto
Your waiting hips.
Further down,
Across your thighs.
Fingernails raking up
Between your thighs,
Approaching your
Damp, hot, center.
My fingers touching you,
Caressing, probing,
Enticing, exciting.

Open your mind,
As you open your body.
My hands, our hands
My lust, your lust.
My touch…
Is still my touch.

Feel my touch.