Email among friends:
Friend #1: “I was listening to Savage Lovecast today. This woman called in and said once a month she treats herself to a massage, and found a masseur she liked. After about 8 months of massages from him, he was massaging her thighs, got a little handsy, and got her off. This is my fantasy. I have watched countless massage room porns. I know, I have issues, but I want this to happen to me someday. Why doesn’t this stuff happen to me?”
Me: “I don’t think you’re a perv — I can see the appeal there.”
Friend #2: “I think it is pervy (which my iPad corrects to Percy) and that’s what makes it hot. The stranger, the boundaries, the ‘good with his hands’ aspect. Yeah, I can see the appeal for sure. And I am also confused why this hasn’t happened to you.”
Me: “I don’t think hands get enough credit. I love men’s hands.”
Gentlemen, seriously…your hands are pretty great. I’m a big fan. I’d “like” them on Facebook if I could. They’re brilliant. Remind me to write a Dr. Seuss-inspired poem about men’s hands — how I love them in my hair, how I love them everywhere.