a show of hands

There's something about hands, and I can't quite put my finger on it (hee hee).

I've always had this thing about hands. My own hands are my favorite part of my body. People laugh when I say that, but it's the truth. I like them because they're very feminine and graceful, and despite all of the changes my body has gone through in my lifetime, my hands have stayed exactly the same. When I can't stand the direction my appearance is going in, I can take comfort in the fact that my hands will always look like me.

I've also always had a thing about other peoples' hands. I think hands can reveal a lot about a person. Consequently, if I meet a guy that I am attracted to, but he has ugly hands, I have to take a minute to reconsider my attraction. Tiny hands, clammy hands, short, pudgy fingers, and nail-biters need not apply. These kinds of things are very important. Earlier today I was introduced to a fellow who was quite attractive. However, when I shook his hand, I wasn't sure if I'd grabbed a hand or a raw chicken breast. It wasn't pretty.

I'm not sure about the science behind it, but hands can be very sensual. Maybe it's nerve endings? All I know is that the center of the palm, the inner wrist, and the very tips of the fingers can provide quite a sensual and stimulating experience. Touching hands with someone special, running your fingers across their palm, tickling their wrist, linking fingers and squeezing tight ... playing handsies can be so much more intimate than straight-up makin' out could ever be.

But that's just one girl's opinion.