He’s a lovely man, with lovely hands because half of his are hers.
We lie, never quietly, touching, every minute unscripted, every encounter planned.
He is her lover. She is mine. Together we search and climb.
I am a giver. He is, too. She commands my jaw when he is ready.
I do not seek to destroy, to distract; only to enhance and enjoy.
We set the scene but do not plan the encounter. We trust, we touch, we play.
He has a mind of his own, and hers is his-
And together we will travel.
She was receptive to touch, to play, to feel. He did not have the control she desired but his woman did.