I’ll be the first to admit it’s a bit out of the ordinary but I just have this thing about a man’s hands. I suppose it’s a trigger from an incident in my childhood but I just have to have a guy with roughneck hands.
Soft feminine hands, trimmed up precise nails, always well taken care of, no thanks. I don’t care how good looking he is, how much money he makes, or even how much he claims to love me, if his hands don’t fill me with passion and want I find him lacking and cannot go further with him than a simple handshake.
I need a man who knows how to get dirty. He has to know how to play video games, camp, grill, mow a lawn, maybe ride a horse, definitely check his oil and change a tire. I don’t care what he does for a living, it’s what he does outside of it. Is he creative? An artist? Musician? Comedian? Sportsman? What does he do for fun?
Can he use his hands to control my body? Will he use them to tie me up? Will he use his big rough hands to spank me? Will he want to touch me with them? I want him to do these things with them. The strength and power in a man’s hands hold limitless possibilities in the bedroom. Women judge men on such things. She doesn’t like a weak partner.
The power these hands hold make all the difference. When he holds my head making love staring into my eyes whispering “Mine” over and over, I can feel the strength of his hands on my face and know I am protected. I’m loved. It’s an incredible and beautiful feeling, his hands on me like this in such a protective and sexy way. He’s conveying all his resolution into me and it brings me to tears. He’s determined for me to feel him in a way that no other ever has and it all started with his hands. His eyes connect with me deeper than his cock at that moment and I know, I just know I’m done. I’ve fallen.
Another time we would be fucking and he would have me bend over the edge of a couch, his hands on my small hips grasping me, slamming into me, but holding me firmly, so I knew again he would protect me. All along the way giving me great pleasure. A sharp smack would come from those large hands and send a thrill through me, he would wrap my hair around his fist and pull while he fucked me as hard as he could and I would just know he was in complete control by the way he settled his hand on my ass.
The perfect man would send me pictures of his hands to make me wet during the day while I wait for him. I don’t need a picture of his cock, his hands turn me on far more than that. Thinking of his fingers deep inside me, or him pinching my nipples, running his hands along my back, braiding my hair before I blow him, all these things he can do with his hands to light me up.
I guess I think outside the box, I’m definitely an All Hands kind of girl.