I have an obsession with touch.

I derive so much pleasure with touching myself and my partners. I want know what does their hair feel like between my fingers. I will play with a single curl on my head twirling it around as it flexes and changes shape. I touch myself all the time. After I shower. After I shave. After I scrub. After using different products. I love the feel of applying products to my body. It awakens me. It incites joy.

I love stroking skin and understanding how it feels when I apply different pressures. It is rough or soft or hard? What does it smell like? Can I lightly tickle it. Does it change as I stroke it?

Sleeping with me means expect some part of my body to touch yours. Even if we are on the bed sprawled out, at some point, my hand, arm, boob, leg, back or foot will seek you out to connect with a hand, an arm, a chest, a leg or something. To create skin to skin contact. It surprises me because it’s clear that physical touch is a major secondary love language for me. I once dated a man who never actively reached for me when we were physically sleeping. Needless to say, we didn’t work out.

It’s probably why I love kissing so much. The act of touching each other so intimately. The feel of his lips, his tongue. His teeth as he bites me. Kissing can create all kinds of connections and feelings for me. Again, it’s the non-sexual kissing that means the most. If I randomly want to kiss you on the street, in the car, while making dinner. I couldn’t imagine a way to connect with someone without wanting to kiss them.

To create intimacy means we are touching in a non-sexual way. If I can’t touch you, we will never connect on more than a platonic level. Now more than ever I recognize that a sign for me of interest is if I actively seek to touch you. While on some level I knew that I needed touch, I never explicitly looked at if I didn’t want to touch you what that meant. I realize now that there were lovers I had recently and that either I didn’t want to hurt their feelings or through circumstance, I continued to sleep with them. That was unfair to them and to me. If I look at it, I didn’t want to touch them. I didn’t actively seek them out. I slept with my back towards them instead of full boob in hand. It is always a simple answer when you see the breakthrough.

Through other forms I am aware of engagement of my body and the sensations of touch. How my sheets feel on my body. The warmth of the water when I shower. My feet wrapped in socks. All of these things create bonding for me. They create a space for us to exchange whatever energy we need to exchange. Touches can be a lot of things. They can reassure, they can excite. While they can have negativity, the space I create for touch I strive to be positive and inviting.

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