Starved for You
đ§đŽđ´đ: body worship, gender neutral, kinda nsfw?, sorta random
Iâm the kind of touch starved that when my mind drifts, I think of a person in my embrace. My hands gliding over their frame as Iâm enamored by their very being. Each caress, painstakingly slow, as to take them all in. No part of them can be neglected because each aspect of them is breathtaking. My fingertips hover just above their skin, skimming over the surface, only meeting in fleeting moments. All while the other hand settles itself on their bodyâs intricate curves. The hand wanders, soothing comforting patterns, following the grooves of their frame. Our bodies so closeâ I can feel their breath in gentle waves on my neck and each stutter sends my mind ablaze.

















