In praise of HANDSY men

I’m just going to come out and say it:

I like a man with grabby hands.

You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about if you have the same affinity for it as I do.

A handsy man is one who is constantly touching you.

Grabbing for you.

Getting up in your space and making you feel his presence.

I love this.

Charlie The Aussie was a handsy man.

So is The Swede.

As far as lovers go, a handsy man makes an OUTSTANDING partner.

You’re right in the middle of doing one thing when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you discover he’s also doing something else.

Like with the Swede, one hand would be up in my hair, messing it up, and pulling on it and I’d discover the other one was stroking my, ahem, chest.

It’s quite a thrill, if you catch my drift.

My friend Yvonne said that she felt starved for touch after her husband passed away.

I think he was a handsy man.

She said he was always touching her.

It occurs to me that out of the Five Love Languages, TOUCH is one of them.

Maybe this is how Yvonne’s late husband, Charlie The Aussie, and The Swede show affection.

Then again, maybe they’re just REALLY EXCELLENT LOVERS.

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The Best Lover

charlie_beachBy far, the best lover I ever had was an Australian living in the US named Charlie.

He was the first bald headed guy I ever went out with.

And he was also the first married but separated man I attempted to date.

Charlie was extraordinary in bed, not because he had wicked skills or some special talents, but because he was so ALL CONSUMING IN BED HE LEFT YOU TOTALLY SPENT.

Now, I tend to be a take charge kind of girl.

But Charlie would have none of that.

When he kissed me, it was like he was POURING himself into me.

He’d grab me by the back of my neck and wrap his hand around my cheek and all of a sudden there was nothing.

But.

His.

Kiss.

I remember that sense of losing touch with reality when I was with him.

Of course as the clothes came off, things got even better.

Being held in his arms was like being enveloped in the woods – you were surrounded by masculinity, hardness, muskiness and strength.

Technically, you could find your way out, but why would you want to?

He was all hands and mouth and they were constantly seeking out your sensitive spots. I always felt like he was everywhere all at once.

And Charlie had a “thing.”

He liked being pressed into the mattress.

I remember this well.

He’d be on bottom, I’d be on top with my hands splayed out on his chest, pushing my weight down on him into the bed.

It was a style uniquely suited to him.

In doggie style, he’d wrap his body over mine and grab my wrists, squeezing me into his body, like we were going to merge into one.

There was so much skin to skin contact I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.

All I know was that it felt good.

I’ll never forget the kind of lover Charlie was.

Maybe that’s why he holds a special place in my heart even though it was just a short lived fling.

And beyond being a spectacular lover, he was also just an all around great guy. The kind you’d go camping with, go fishing with, or take on a just-for-fun road trip.

That kind of man is worth his weight in gold.

Sigh!

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