His Hands

everything’s in your hands on Flickr – Photo Sharing!

If his hands were a place, they’d be the Badlands — wild, rugged, harsh, scarred, demanding.
Those callouses scraping lightly over my breasts, the sandpaper drag of those fingers along my thigh, bring shivers.
But there are times when the soft flick of his fingers, rapid as the beat of hummingbird wings, send me to heaven.

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