Skin

God, I love skin. Contact with, to be specific.

I was thinking about it the other night, while running my hands down my lovers back. We weren't having sex, just lying there before falling asleep. And I was tracing my fingertips down his spine, and into that hollow, that perfect dip right before the mounds of the ass. I love that hollow. It's so soft and vulnerable and sensitive.

Then bringing my hand back up, using the backs of my nails, to follow the heavy line of his broad shoulders. Feeling the dense muscles and bone overlayed by a layer of fine, soft skin. Wonderful.

The human body is a beautiful, pleasurable thing. In all its many, many shapes and sizes. This lover doesn't have a perfect body. He's got a belly on him that speaks of a love of hamburgers. But it suits him perfectly. He has ridiculously wide shoulders, meant to hold the weight of others safety. His back is broad and strong, well defined. His thighs and calves... mmm... sorry. His thighs and calves are thick and heavily muscled, aggressively and unabashedly masculine in their shape. Overlay all this with soft, dusky skin. Playground. Fun, lovely playground.

Contrast that with J, of last weekend. Skinny man, shoulders that are narrow in comparison and a little hunched forward. Older, about 43, healthy, but looks smaller in clothes.

Then I get him naked. Swimmers muscles, long and lean. Shoulders that suit him perfectly, mounded with muscle, and that wonderful concave clavical which calls out to be licked. His chest was perfectly proportionate to the rest of him, lean muscles running down his sides to his softly furred belly. Lean hips, framing a rather... ahem, prodigious member, thighs with muscles shaped for running and jumping, and calves the sloped rather than jutted. His back, and backside, were also aggressively masculine. I love that V shape, strong shoulders leading down to a back defined by heavy bones and sinewy muscles. And that ass, or lass, as the case may be. I love guys butts. A little square, muscled and hard, so very, very different from mine :D. I love seeing a guy standing from behind, that shadowed, velvety cleft below his ass making my fingers itch to run them up his thighs to find what's hiding there. And, oh, his skin. It had that parchment feel that age gives all of us. So soft I'm almost afraid to clench too hard for fear of breaking through. But strong and elastic, stretched taut over his body.

I remember looking up at him at one point, my thighs stretching up his chest and pushing hard against his shoulders as he labored above me, straining forward even as I pushed him back, and wondering at the feel of everything. His skin under my legs, his hands under my ass, our muscles working in concert, that sense of perfect unity combined with intense competition...

I enjoy many different memories of different lovers. Most of them involve touch, and skin, and sensation. Is good.