Thursday, April 26, 2012

His Hands

I've been thinking about my man's hands today. It doesn't seem to matter what I start out thinking about I keep circling back to his hands. I love his hands.

They are not aesthetically beautiful hands by any means. They are working hands, rough and calloused. He often has cuts, nicks and scratches on his hands. Many times they are covered in oil and grease and dirt, the fingernails ragged.  I buy special industrial cleaner just for his hands, it smells like oranges. He doesn't particularly like his hands. I love his hands.

His hands are strong and could easily crush mine if he's not careful. He's always careful. Most nights we fall asleep holding hands.

His hands are very talented. He makes beautiful music on his guitar with those hands. Just watching his hands move across the strings is enough to turn me on. For a daydreamer like me it is easy to get lost in the thoughts of his hands strumming along my body in place of those strings.  Plucking the pleasure from me like the lovely tunes from his guitar.

His hands, as he reaches out to grab whatever part he can reach whenever I walk near. I've teased him for years that living with him is like living with an octopus, all hands. I love his hands.

His hands, roaming my body, waking me from a sound sleep. His hands, slowly tracing my lips, the urge to suck his fingers in too great to resist. His hands, buried in my hair, tugging gently but firmly until I lift my head to receive his kiss.

His hands buried in my hair, holding me firmly in place as I kneel in front of him. His hands, fingers entwined in my hair, pulling me closer until I have no choice but to open my mouth and take him in.

His hands, as he tosses me around the bed like a rag doll, positioning me for both our pleasure. His hands, as he spanks me. His hands, that hold the paddle he has learned to weild, because I asked. The anticipation of the next blow to fall is almost too much.

His hands, capable of giving the most exquisite pain, the most delicious of pleasures. His hands, one on each side of my face, holding me in place so I can't look away as he enters me. The intensity in his eyes burns soul deep. I would have missed it if it wasn't for his hands. I love his hands. 

His hands covering my mouth as I scream my surrender. His hands, holding me as I float back to myself exhausted, yet sated.

His hands exploring my face in the dark to check for tears. His hands, pulling me close to rub my back and offer comfort when the worries of the world become too much.

His hands, changing our first child's first diaper. His hands, baiting the fish hook and preparing the pole when he taught our kids to fish. His hands, tying ribbons into a little girls hair because mommy is at work and can't do it. His hands, throwing the football to our son, only to have it stolen by the dog. His hands, that built me a potting bench for Mother's Day. I love his hands.


  1. Ooh...Now I want to go stare at my husbands hands lol. Personally, I find working hands to be the most attractive. Something about a man with excessively soft hands and a manicure just squicks me out...

    This post is absolutely lovely. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

    1. Warm and fuzzy is a good thing :) Thank you.

  2. Loved this post faerie. I think I was the 1st girl to ever tell Mitch that I love his hands. I think they're super sexy and they seriously fascinate me with their expertise :) and he also plays the guitar which is also super sexy. Argh! you've got me wishing he was here now lol!

    Dee x

    1. Seriously fascinate, yes, most definitely.

      If our home was burning and I could only take one belonging it would be Musicman's guitar.
      The one he plays the most lives in our bedroom, lol.

  3. Very descriptive and thoughtful.

  4. Lovely post Faerie! I love Michael's hands too, and now I'm quite distracted thinking about them. ;)

    1. Sorry to distract you... well, not really, lol.

      I hope you have Michael's hands around you soon.

  5. Wow! Good writing, I can almost see his hands touching you. Very sensuous! I like the way you write! So about Fantasy Friday...


    1. Thanks for the compliment Cassie/PK. Are you trying to confuse me? LOL.

      I do think about writing for FF. Unfortunately my memory, though sketchy sometimes, is still better then my imagination. But you never know what will happen, I'm not ruling it out :)

  6. I love Daddy's hands, also! He can do so many things with his hands.

    This is an A+ post, faerie! Seriously, the imagery you used is wonderful. You're very fortunate to have Musicman's hands for your own.


    1. Thanks Kitty,

      There is just something wonderful about his hands. He doesn't seem to get my fascination with them. It might just be a lady thing, lol. We all seem to appreciate our man's hands :)

  7. This post is simply gorgeous, faerie. And I'm typing this through tears. I love Daddy's hands, too, they are exquisite, large, calloused, with a freckle on the right one. This goes on my favorite post page.

    1. Aww...I didn't mean to make you cry.

      Isn't it funny, men are getting manicures to get rid of callouses that so many of us like. Think maybe it's just a spanko thing? LOL.

    2. Lol - could be. And it could just be that it's honest. And that is so much more attractive than false pride.

  8. Sweet.. I wish there was a "like" button.

    1. Thanks Belle, a "like" button is a great idea :)

  9. I love my guy's hands too and he doesn't think much of them. Interesting...we all sort of feel the same about this.

    1. I noticed that trend too. I am beginning to wonder if there is a connection between spankos and hand fetishes? LOL.
      Good combination if you ask me :)

  10. So beautifully said, faerie. Thank you for finding the words You paint a beautiful picture, and it makes me begin to ponder how my Sir's hands are, and how much i love them.


    1. Thank you aisha, I have a serious obsession with his hands. I always have :) They're seriously magical hands.

  11. Nice to notice and write about a detail like that.

    1. Thank you Ponyboy, I have been intimately acquainted with his hands for 25+ years. They are very talented hands, of which I am the beneficiary. That is a good thing.

  12. I liked this post! I have a thing for my guy's hands as well. As you so nicely pointed out, they do so many things! They can be gentle and kind, rough, exciting, caring,'s all so lovely. I think my favorite is when he puts a hand on the small of my back; I feel his strong hands being so gentle on me. It's the sweetest.

    1. The juxtaposition of that strength, against our fragility never ceases to amaze me. And it can all be enbodied in the hands.

      I maybe more then just a little tad obsessed with his hands, lol.

      As I said to Susie, it just might be a spanko thing :) Makes total sense to me.

  13. This was really beautiful and I understand the sentiment. I think Daddy's hand were the key to my feeling of belonging to him.

    1. I'm glad you liked it :) There really is something about a man's hands. I think they are a somewhat under appreciated body part and am doing my best to change that. LOL.

  14. I've always loved and/or noticed men's hands.. from my granddaddy's huge rough ones to my husband's slender software engineer ones.

    I had a friend who never took care of his nails and I always thought he must not be a very thoughtful lover. Any ragged fingernail of my husband's is amplified by 100 times in the bad kind of pain when he touches me with that finger.

    1. Ola Chica!!! I was just over at your place leaving a comment. Another FINE post, I must say, lol.

      As I was reading, it occurred to me you would get this post. Though I have to say, a ragged nail isn't a problem for me :) Maybe your friends lady liked a man with a bit rougher hand?

      I think we all fall in love with the talent and intent in the hands of our guys.

    2. Thank you. :)

      As it turned out as my friendship with him grew, he and his wife hadn't had sex for years anyway, so my assumption wasn't too far off the mark.

      I don't mind if the nail isn't perfectly shaped, but if it's torn (what I mean by ragged) then it tears at me and leaves all these little cuts where I don't want them. Mostly my husband just keeps his very very short for my benefit, because it's all about the hands. :)

      One of my college professors (told you I noticed men's hands) kept all of his nails filed to sharp little points. I always shuddered when I looked at that and wondered if there was some sexual purpose for it. (I would, wouldn't I?)

    3. Okay, there is just so much wrong with no sex for years, but, that is beside the point, lol.

      A torn nail can definitely be a bad thing. Musicman is good about keeping his trimmed up so as not to scratch. Cause, yeah, it's all about the hands :)

      I would have wondered about someone with sharpened nails. Only, I would have wondered about who they were fighting. Sharpened nails can be a formidable weapon. An even better weapon is nails sharpened to a point then cutting V's into them. Double the points, double the damage. Don't ask me how I know that, lol.

  15. Oh this was absolutely lovely! I thought I was the only one that had a slight obsession with hands. It's a joke between Monster and I, he asks what my favorite part of his body is, I answer with your hands. Tough and masculine and perfectly tender when it comes to applying band-aids. So glad I am not the only hand girl out there.

    1. Welcome Monstrsnightmare, I'm glad you liked it :) This post seems to have brought us "hands girls" out of the woodwork, lol.

  16. what a wonderful entry my friend

  17. What a beautiful post, faerie. i read a poem once that your writing reminded me of. I hope you like it.
    The Touch of the Master's Hand

    It was battered and scarred,
    And the auctioneer thought it
    Hardly worth his while
    To waste his time on the old violin,
    But he held it up with a smile.
    "What am I bid, good people", he cried,
    "Who starts the bidding for me?"
    "One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
    "Two dollars, who makes it three?"
    "Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three",

    But, No,
    From the room far back a grey haired man
    Came forward and picked up the bow,
    Then wiping the dust from the old violin
    And tightening up the strings,
    He played a melody, pure and sweet,
    As sweet as the angel sings.

    The music ceased and the auctioneer
    With a voice that was quiet and low,
    Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
    As he held it aloft with its' bow.
    "One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
    "Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
    "Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
    Going and gone", said he.

    The audience cheered,
    But some of them cried,
    "We just don't understand."
    "What changed its' worth?"
    Swift came the reply.
    "The Touch of the Masters Hand."

    And many a man with life out of tune,
    All battered with bourbon and gin,
    Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
    Much like that old violin.
    A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
    A game and he travels on.
    He is going once, he is going twice,
    He is going and almost gone.
    But the Master comes,
    And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
    The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
    By the Touch of the Master's Hand.

    "The Master's Hand" was written by Myra Brooks Welch. She was called "The poet with the singing soul." Her's was a very musical family. As a young woman, Myra's special love was playing the organ.

    1. That's abeautiful poem, thank you for sharing it. I'm so flattered that you think I write that well :) I'm not too sure Ms Welch would be happy with the comparison, but we'll just keep it out little secret, lol.