Touch And Feel Novels & Stories

The separation of the two has never happened. Andy pushed the menu in front of Harris, "Choose a drink!" Harris waved his hand, "I don't drink anything; I have to go home after talking. Tonight, my company has a small party." Andy nodded when he heard that and assessed Harris, just like when they were still in love. Suddenly, Andy's hand reached out, wanting to touch his cheek. Harris jerked backward, the air thick with embarrassment. Andy curled his lips into a smile, narrowing his eyes, and gently stroked Harris' cheek with his thumb.

His eyes hooded and he leaned into the touch, but he’d obviously gathered that I wanted a moment, because he didn’t speak, and he didn’t move to touch me back. He was right… I could feel him. Not just under my palm, not just under my fingertips as I played them along his jaw to his mouth and traced his full lips with my thumb. Not just where my belly brushed against him when I leaned up so I could comb my fingers through his hair. Every time I touched him, everywhere… it tingled under my fingers, as if some kind of electricity existed between us, a power that grew when we touched.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through me at his touch, igniting an unexpected spark of passion within me. His touch, however clinical in intent, set off a flutter of desire in my core. The week had been a whirlwind of work, leaving us with little time for private, intimate moments. Yet, every accidental brush of our hands, every fleeting touch, had stirred the same potent reaction within me.

But the moment my fingers make contact with his skin, my thoughts scatter. His arm is solid beneath my touch, the muscles firm and warm under my palm. My hand hesitates, my breath catching in my throat as my fingers unconsciously brush over the curve of his bicep. The smoothness of his skin contrasts with the strength beneath it, and I can feel every ridge, every subtle movement as I press my fingertips against him. I know I should stop—I should wake him up and demand answers. But I’m distracted, captivated by the simple act of touching him. The sparks I always feel around him seem to intensify now, humming faintly against my fingertips and spreading up my arm.

he said slowly, deliberately, “Not to survive “ His words curled around my spine like silk ribbons tugged too tight. “Do you want to know why?” “Yes” “ it's gets the blood pumping , It’s one of the few things in the world that uses all five senses without risking your life, everything is heightened , Touch…” His fingers slid up again—slow, torturous—gliding over my underwear, across my entrance. My breath caught in my throat like a scream I wasn’t brave enough to let out. “Smell…” he said, his fingers vanishing. I heard him inhale, slow and deep, through his nose.

Her mind badly wants to protest but her body doesn't. Sunday trembled when she felt his hands unbuttoning his blouse and even gasps when she felt his warm hands touch her bare chest. But why can't she move and push this man and run? Why did she let him touch her body like this? Is it because of what she just witnessed a while ago? Or because she likes it too? She placed her arms in his chest to push him but she realized that it was a wrong move. She can feel his firm chest which made her want to stay.

I couldn’t force myself to relax no matter how I tried. I shuddered when I finally felt his hot wet mouth on my folds. “Fuck, I knew you would taste this good”. He groaned against my clit. Tightening his grip on my ass, he buried his mouth on my clit and practically devoured me. “Oh God,” I gasped as the contact sent a wave of pleasure coursing through my veins. It felt crude, intimate, sensual and oh, so good. I had read about oral sex in novels, and I had even seen it happen in movies but I never knew it felt this good.

“Touch me.” I shiver at the first flick of my boobs. His hands wander to my belly, tickles my belly button and my legs shake. With Calum, it’s different. His touches are dependent on the occasion. Right now, it’s curious, innocent and comforting, not erotic. My fingers loop around the waistband of my shorts but he stops me from tearing it off. “Is it okay?” I ask and he nods. “Okay.”

Maybe it’s just in my mind, but the only thing I feel as his hand touches my upper arm is sparks. No sizzling, no burning.

“Of all of our senses, touch seems the most explicitly linked to sex and sexual activity. That’s the crux. Sex and touch are indelibly linked when we conceive of them being linked by our own physical connection to another person. Lip to ear. Tongue to nipple. Fingers to clit. Penis to vagina and every other combination of body part to body part people find pleasurable. How our skin reacts to each of these parts, as well as the added tangibles of warmth and cold, hard and soft, rough or smooth, strong or gentle creates a unique sensation felt through our nervous system and ultimately recognized as sexy, not sexy or somewhere-in-between.”