To feel the sharp stubble against the softness of my hand---as I reach over to turn his face toward mine. To gaze into the depths of his soul through eyes of a man that touches the deepest part of me with just a look.

To feel the strong, hard strength of his back over massive; powerful shoulders. Knowing this man is my safety and comfort I seek when I am weak and sad.

To feel the rough hands of a hard working man touch me with gentleness weakens my resistance to guard my heart; pushing my fears aside--wanting to open myself to the knowledge that he can be trusted to heal my loneliness with but a touch.

To feel his chest---so soft yet different than mine. It electrifies my nerves, like lightning across the sky, bright and exciting; as my heart leaps to new heights.

To touch, to feel,
To dream it will never end--passion grows and rises with each part of this man revealed.

Layer by layer I am able to touch more and more,
To feel a man is my water to a person dehydrated.

He fills me....
Completes me....
Excites me.....
it's a need that must be met.

Great Write

Thanks.

very nice