There are so many ways that her touch affects me. And she has no idea how I wait for it. Long for it. No matter how little, or how it may seem inconsequential to her, every single touch brings joy to my soul. Reminds me how lucky I am that I am hers. Reminds me that she cares enough to bestow her love to me by laying her hands upon me.

Our story of touch reads as any story. Small flourishes and loud declarations.

A simple brush of her fingers pushing hair from my face tells me she thinks I am too engrossed in what I am doing to bother, even though she knows it does bother me.

Her running her fingers over my beard or my brow is a sign of her affection and concern for me.

Her running her fingers through my hair is a dangerous endeavor. There have been too many passionate nights where she has used it to anchor herself, pulled it in her throes. Raked her nails against my scalp to will a reaction. And, God bless her, it works every single time.

Her dragging her nails across my chest. Usually in tandem with her licking down my neck. It always ends with me rolling her body quickly underneath mine to claim her.

Her digging her fingers into the muscles of my back and bottom. Always, always as I am pounding into her with all the passion I possess. A breathless sigh always accompanies it. It signals that she is willing, capable, and expecting me to give her more. And I do. For as long as I am able.

Her wrapping her delicate fingers around the girth of me. First a light stroke, followed by her whispering my name. Then, a more sure handle that will allow her to make me do anything she asks. And I do mean anything.

Her taking my hands and placing them on her body. She knows I will be complicit. I live to touch her. This to me is a sign of her overwhelming trust, her belief that I will please her. And I do everything within my power to move her, shake her, so there is no doubt that it is I who will do so for the rest of our days.

But now is the moment I draw breath for. The moment I know there is a power that truly favors me. That tells me all the suffering I have endured has led me here. Her asleep on her side with my arms about her, her left hand cupping my neck, and her right firmly against my heart.