I touch his back and he quivers. We talk about erogenous zones. I tell him I’m surprised he’s yet to find mine.
“I just figured it was your cock,” he jokes and we laugh.
He says, “My whole body seems to be erogenous.”
It’s true. I can make him hard by stroking the back of his knee or nibbling his earlobe. His skin feels like a silk worm, like freshly ripened fruit.
“I guess I’m just not used to being touched”, he tells me. I nod.
My skin has been poked and prodded by thousands of hands, seasoned and starving. I wonder what business I have with him. He’ll bruise so easily.
My (ex) boyfriend wrote this. He still makes me feel beautiful.
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