4 Why's: I Love My Man's Body Hair
A humid summer rainstorm was passing through, and there was a lull. We had just finished our hike, and after stopping to enjoy an ice cream at a busy local ice cream stand, were now in my Mazda, parked under a grove of maple and oak trees to enjoy a bit more time together before we each left to go home. He pushed the driver's side door open to let a much-welcomed breeze in and stripped the sweat covered blue microfiber hooded sunshirt he wore off, tugged the button to take his seat all the way back, sighed a contented sigh, closed his eyes and stretched his long tanned and toned arms over his head behind him to rest on the headrest. His bare torso looked so good that I couldn't resist running my fingers through his white chest hair and down to the darkened strip of softer brown-red hair that landed just above his belly button, circling the sensitive skin a few times before going back up. Continuing my oval-shaped pattern over the front of him, I whispered in admiration just ...