I wanna be clear here - I’m not talking about CNC, pretending to be a stranger on the train or something.

I’m just talking about… getting handsy. Feeling you up. Sitting you in my lap and slowly making your head spin with the way my big, strong hands roam all over your body, squeezing and gently pinching, tugging and teasing. I find it especially dizzying to slide my hands under your clothes, taking my time to run them over every inch of your body beneath the fabric, plucking and pulling until they’re sloughing off your body, rivers of soft material dangling from every extremity as you slump back against me, eyes glazing over with dazed pleasure.

There’s nothing quite like that feeling, the sensation of willing surrender as you relax and unwind, your breath growing slower save for the odd hitch when my skilled fingertips drift closer to somewhere burning hot with anticipation. My face buried in your neck, lips hungrily devouring you with wet kisses as my hands continue their journey up and down your now-revealed, supple body.

If you’ve got a particular fondness for being teased and toyed with, driven slowly wild with ever-intensifying touches, come and perch yourself on my knee and see how long it takes before you’re straddling me and plaintively begging for something more concrete, more immediately quenching of the fiery thirst building in your belly. Perhaps you’ve been feeling me slowly grow harder and hotter against your ass as I please you with my hands, making you tremble with every little shift as my fingers travel from your dripping sex back up your front to your mouth, groping your face just like the rest of you as my fingers push impatiently into your mouth or brush your hair out of the way.

Maybe you’re my spoiled, clingy girlfriend who feels most comfortable when she’s wrapped in my arms.

Maybe a best friend, throwing caution to the winds even as we try not to cross a line we can’t come back from.

Maybe a new partner, hesitant about actually being intimate but nevertheless dealing with powerful rushes of feelings and desire.

Maybe it’s the clothing kink for you, indulging in the sensation of large, warm hands slipping under your layers to grasp and knead at your most intimate, sensitive places.

Maybe it starts with a massage, targeting particular areas as you lie flat on your front before moving on to follow the soft, encouraging noises that slip from your lips every time my hands wander.

Maybe there’s a particular area you love to be touched. I admit to a fondness for letting my fingers sink into a soft, heavy pair of breasts, perhaps aching after a long and tiring day of work. Feeling their warmth, their heft, their silk-smooth softness only interrupted by the gentle bumps of nipples that my fingertips read like Braille…

Maybe it’s a free use thing, something you enjoy having done while you more or less ignore me - at least until you reach your limit and can no longer bear it.

For any of these or any other twists you’d like to bring, I’m more than happy - in fact I’d prefer it - if the scene continues on with its natural progression. We don’t have to stop at groping and touching, though I’d love for it to remain a major part. Spooning, cockwarming, all the lovely gentle positions we can explore while staying in close, intimate physical contact.

Other kinks to consider: gentle overstimulation, teasing, very mild DDlg, general affection and clinginess, various kinds of clothing play, kisses and getting affectionate in places we risk getting spotted. I’m recently growing fond of a kind of soft raceplay if that’s something you’d be interested in.

Limits are butt stuff, cruel stuff, painful stuff, major age gaps and power imbalances.

Drop me a line~

Alex.