Hold Hand Reference Novels & Stories

When I open my eyes, I see why. Knox Mortimer Reid is holding Harold Grant’s right hand in the air.

"I will hold my hand here аnd lеt уоu рuѕh bасk. Each tіmе уоu push bасk, I wіll hold firm, еасh tіmе you mоvе fоrwаrd I wіll move wіth you. Yоu wіll gеt оnlу аѕ muсh іnѕіdе уоu аѕ YOU want." Nоt only соuld I ѕее whаt wаѕ hарреnіng аnd feel whаt wаѕ hарреnіng, I wаѕ іn соntrоl of it! I ѕtаrtеd mоvіng slowly bасk and watched as hіѕ hаnd bеgаn tо stretch mу hole open again. It had сlоѕеd uр some, but a little push bасk frоm mе аnd his hаnd slid right in. An іntеrеѕtіng feeling as I tried a lіttlе hunсhіng mоtіоn... hіѕ hand moving іnѕіdе me and mу bіg bаllѕ ѕwіngіng оn the оutѕіdе!

Halting at her temples. The thumb of his right hand remained pressed against the lateral edge of her gland. Feeling the flow rate of pheromones inside the vessel. His left hand slid down from her right shoulder. It covered the back of her right hand. Her fingers threaded through his. Not a grip. Just interlacing. Ten fingers entwined.

"It’s a powerful vision, Mr. Wyndham. I can hear your commitment in every word." The formal part of their meeting was over. They both stood, and he extended his hand. She took it. His hand was large, warm, and surprisingly gentle around hers. The handshake lasted a moment longer than normal. He didn’t shake her arm, he simply held her hand, his thumb resting lightly on her knuckles, his gaze dropping to their joined hands before rising back to her face. A strange, warm current seemed to pass between them. Mandy gently extracted her hand, feeling a flutter in her stomach.

His chest was moving but barely, the slow controlled breathing of someone trying very hard not to do something very stupid. Both hands were closed into fists at his sides, fingers pressed into his palms hard enough to probably leave marks, the tendons raised on the backs of both hands. He was looking straight at us. At our hands. I held his gaze for three full seconds. Then I turned back around and kept walking with Liam. My hands had not shaken during the confrontation. They were shaking slightly now, the quiet delayed kind that happened when the thing requiring steadiness was over and the body caught up. I closed my fingers a little tighter around Liam's and he squeezed back once without l

Adrian reaches over and takes my hand. His grip is firm. Professional. Like a handshake. Victor stares. “You’re holding her hand like you’re closing a business deal.” “I am holding her hand.” “With the warmth of a mortgage document.” He stands to demonstrate, fingers loose, thumb brushing knuckles. Adrian watching a tutorial on hand-holding is genuinely one of the most surreal things I’ve witnessed. “Now you.” Adrian adjusts. Loosens his fingers. His thumb traces my knuckles once, experimentally.

"ye....es" My clit was so sensitive by now. When the rubbing stopped it almost felt like a relief.... but suddenly two fingers were plunged deep into my opening. I couldn't help but clench around them and a sigh escaped my lips. Damon let them be there for a while. "You're so wet.... so ready for me sweetheart"... he said this while reaching down to kiss me... Then his other hand moved from my cheek and took a hold of both of my wrists and held them securely over my tummy. He kissed me again and then he crooked his fingers and started pumping.

Taylor continued. "When you grip your cock, try to present the inside grip, not the outside of your hand. When you present the outside of your hand, your audience sees several inches of the back of your hand. The inside grip, shows several inches of dick between your clenched fingers. And look, your other hand is on your balls with your arm blocking a good part of your crotch. I can barely see anything!" Ben looked down, realizing she was right. "Now, spread your legs out," she instructed.

I move my hand to hold it up with my index finger and thumb. I'm glad Nellie didn't stay longer to see this but then, what the. . .

The kind of stillness that came before something dangerous. Slowly, carefully, I moved my hand under the table. My fingers found his. For a brief second, he didn't react. Then I felt it—his hand, tense… his fingers slightly curled, like he was holding something back. I gently wrapped my fingers around his, squeezing softly. A silent message. Calm down. His hand tightened instinctively, almost crushing mine, and my breath caught—but I didn't pull away. Instead, I held on. My thumb brushed lightly against his skin, slow, reassuring.