Oh hey. I have a bit of a hand fetish. Did I already tell you about it? There was a post about worship of the hands. And I think I’ve mentioned hands making me horny. But now I would like to go into a little detail.
This pic I took of my breasts–I do like my breasts. Large, soft, drooping, comforting, real. Abundant and me. But I also unexpectedly really like my hand in this picture. Looks so pretty in the light–vibrant and gleaming.
I compare my hand size to my breast size. Are my tits really that big? Maybe it’s the angle. It’s hard to tell.
My spouse’s hands I kiss and kiss. He likes it, but I get off on it. If we’re having sex and I’m trying to come, kissing his hands can push me over the edge.
The man I loved most recently, I dreamed of his hands. He would send me cute selfies, and his long, beautiful hands charmed me. Bliss was mine.
I loved a nonbinary person with small brown hands. When we held hands to pray, I was amazed. How light they felt, in mine. I fantasized about kissing my friend’s sternum and coming on their hands.
I loved a man long ago–he had homemade knuckle tattoos that intrigued me. What did his knuckles say? I think it was FARM PUNX. When we hung out, I would notice his hands and feel giddy.
My best friend’s hands overjoy me. I’ve studied their ghostly whiteness for decades. The length of her fingers, the curves of her fingernails, the pale freckles. I’ve watched her hands play piano, make art, move through the air as she dances. I’ve seen her use those hands to feed herself food, touch me, self-harm by pinching her ankle over and over again. Her hands are like magic. The things they do amaze me.
Of course I’ve come on my own hands countless times. Thousands and thousands of numberless orgasms, my fingers between my cunt lips, rubbing me steadily to release.
People I’ve known who wear sex toy vibrator jewelry–they explain over and over, “Yes, I like my necklace too! It’s a vibrator.” Then they might explain–no, the vibrator necklace isn’t dirty. We masturbate with our hands too. They wash off ok.
How I feel about someone’s hands can help me understand how I feel about them as a whole. High excitement about someone’s hands can indicate I’m in love. Hating someone’s hands can indicate I will never be close to them.
I can find someone funny, charming, and brilliant. But not liking their hands is doom. I don’t make up the rules.
I kiss my own hands recently, loving myself more than ever. Hand fetish for myself is convenient. My hands are available to me and have done some very good work.