“I run my hand down his arm, taking in the smoothness of his skin, the feel of the hairs on his forearms. I feel the indentation of a scar that he says is from a dog bite when he was younger. I carry on and caress his hands and fingers, they feel rough against the smooth pad of my own. ‘You need some of my hand cream.’ He holds his hand up. ‘Go on then. As long as it doesn’t make me smell like a girl.’ I lean over to the bedside table and get my body lotion. I pour a little onto the palm of my h...and, flinching at the coolness and rub my hands together to warm it up. Then I put one of his hands between mine and massage the lotion in. I repeat with the other. ‘Mmmm that feels nice.’ ‘Would you like a massage?’ ‘Another skill I don’t know about Mulroney?’ ‘I’m not qualified but I’m sure I can manage.’ I get him to turn onto his front and apply more lotion and rub it into his back and neck. I alternate between deep rubs and feather light touches that just reach the lower part of his back, where the bed covers just show the first hint of his well rounded ass.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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