The essence of touch

I know what I have been missing and it isn’t glorious, hard fucking on a washing machine. It’s being able to connect to another human being by a mere touch. My skin and his. It could be a hug or a kiss or my dick caressing the insides of his body. The bond will not be defined by its ways but by its meaning. The idea. The reason. The essence of the activity. A penis going in and out of a vagina or an anus doesn’t always mean sex. It could also mean pity. Or insecurity. Or even an apology.


Sometimes, the satisfaction of one activity doesn’t rely on whether or not it made your skin feel things it never experienced before. Satisfaction is a state of mind that isn’t forced nor sensitized. It’s a force of nature. Like a smooth, flowing river that knows no barriers or rocks or boundaries.


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