The Human Touch   

                                                                                                                                                    By:  Stacy L.   

 

 

CATEGORY:  Drama

TABLE FIC PROMPT:  # 038. Touch

WARNINGS:  Adult Themes

COMPLETED:  June 12, 2006

 

                                                       * * * *

Touch, he missed that the most. The ability to touch, to feel, to stroke and to glide. He remembered how it felt to glide his hands slowly, gently, tenderly across his lover's body. He recalled the smooth texture of skin, the pleasurable tingles that gripped him as he explored the wondrous terrain of his lover's body. He recalled the way his fingers would twitch, itching to grope, encompass and please. He remembered the warmth of heated skin, the coolness of wet skin, the tightness of skin drawn taut.

Touch, how he longed for it, to be able to feel the textures beneath him, around him. He was told he could become human again, but he must descend to do so, descend and lose all the knowledge he had acquired while with them. He had considered it several times, going back, but he felt that he could do so much more in this form, as energy. Still he longed for touch.

Funny how he yearned for something he had often tried to avoid when in human form. He had rarely accepted touch, allowing only a few to do so: those closest to him, those he loved deeply, but sometimes even they were kept at arm's length. He had grown used to it, to living without being touched, and perhaps that's why when he had found treasures buried for thousands of years he couldn't resist rubbing, stroking, caressing each and every contour, every crevice and every inch.

And now? He longed to touch everything. He had never realized how much he had taken it for granted: the ability to feel the roughness of stone, the dampness of wet soil, the coldness of ice, the dryness of sand... He longed to feel the texture of grass, the wind against his face, the sun beating against his back and the unique shapes of everything. He longed for it, missed it, craved it, needed it that ability to touch, to reach out and grab hold of something, the ability to hold his lover close.

He could remember every nuance, every taste, every texture, every smell his lover had encompassed. he recalled how it felt to kiss soft moist lips, to lick them and be granted a small sampling of his lover's unique taste. He could remember how it felt to be held in strong arms pressed firmly against his lover's body, held safe and secure. He could remember nights when they'd lay curled up against one another talking softly as their hands unconsciously explored each other. He could remember the feel of his lover's breath against his face, against his skin, against his body and feel the tightness in his groin, of oversensitive flesh drawn taut as he hardened. He recalled the exquisite pleasure of his lover entering him after tenderly prepping him. He could recall how his muscles would grip and clamp tightly around his lover drawing him deeper, holding him in place and he could almost feel the pleasure encompassing as he envisioned his lover beginning to gently thrust in and out of him. Then he felt the loss of it all and nearly crumpled as he recalled all that he had sacrificed, all that he had lost to become an Ancient and just how precious something as simple as a touch could be...

 

 

                                                                                    ** The End **   

 

 

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