When I was a young teen my mother and I took a ship ride to the Philipines. Since we lived on Guam where my Dad worked for the military these trips on big Navy cruisers were cheap and frequent. One nite a young male teen befriended me and asked if I wanted to walk up to the top deck. Sure.
We went by the railings and suddenly his hands were all over me. They tugged at the buttons on my shirtwaist dress and flew over my breasts. He was like an Octopus. I must have looked like I needed help because out of the blackness of that top deck a big Navy soldier came up behind us.
"I don't think the lady wants you to do that." I will always remember his deep voice and the way the arms stopped flailing immediately. I broke away and must have walked off by myself because I don't remember seeing him again.
I wonder where my mother was at this time. I remember asking her about another time I went off with someone who had Roaming Hands. "We couldn't stop you." is what my mother said.
We had been at the family friends' cabin on a little island off the main island of Guam. The other end of the island was a small military base and the guys would often walk by and wave. This time one of them was alone and he zeroed in on me somehow and off we went for a walk down the beach and around the point. As we sat there alone on the pure white sand his arms danced along my body but I soon pulled back and he was not relentless. We weren't gone very long.
Now I like roaming hands. Being touched and adored, turned on and appreciated is a royal treat. I am still very picky about who touches me and when I give in and surrender to a special touch it seems like ecstasy to me. I can see why it was too much for my teenage self. It is sometimes overwhelming as an adult too. Just like learning to warm yourself with fire. It is powerful stuff.
I remember the days of Oryoki's erotica and the midnite Salon Sex column. It seems that Open isn't really that open and I am ok with that. I post things here that touch my heart and that is enough.