ONE was a stroker - soft fingertips had me squirming from pleasure partly, or skittish tickles, or safe friendship. Or leaning into reassurance. Small rippling shivers (hidden) that would not let me sink.

TWO did not believe in touch at all. Did not think touch was necessary. Fool. He did not last very long.

THREE had large large hands - did not realize how heavy he could be. Rough. I should have known that he was wrong for me, fumbling weight and no joy. Smothering me with neediness.

FOUR let me groom him like monkeys do, picking dry skin and scabs. Fingernails scratching working smoothing - tactile therapy for my own stubby hands.

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