What Turns Me On: Passion, Hands, Hair, and Heat
Let me let you in on a little secret… women don’t always fantasize the same way men do. Men can flip through images in their head like a porn reel, but women? We’re more cerebral. We need a spark in the brain before we get wet between the thighs. That’s why I’ve always been addicted to dirty talk. Words are foreplay for me.
So let me tell you what runs through my mind when I get turned on.
I love men’s hands. Big, strong, clean hands. Maybe it’s because I’m petite, but when I imagine those hands gripping my waist, sliding over my thighs, or holding me still, it makes me ache.
I also love a man who owns his body. And yes, that includes a little body hair. Not the ape look, but a chest with some hair? That’s sexy as hell. Masculine. Natural. I want to bury my face in it, rake my nails through it, feel it against my skin. Shaved smooth? Not necessary. Trimmed is fine. Hair is manly.
And kissing—don’t even get me started. I could lose myself in a long, slow, hot make-out session. Tongues tangled, hands roaming, lips swollen from the heat of it. After an hour of that kind of foreplay? Baby, I’m open to almost anything.
But here’s the truth: it all comes down to passion. A man who touches, kisses, and even talks to me with passion is irresistible. Passion makes sex electric. Oh yes, Passion makes masturbation hotter. Passion makes everything feel alive.
That’s why I love phone sex. The brain is the biggest sex organ, and the men who call me prove it. Sometimes it’s not about elaborate kinks or wild roleplay. Sometimes it’s just about being a man with me—raw, real, and burning with passion.
