Manicured hands have always caught my attention. I don’t mean gaudy, acrylic monstrosities that look like claws. A simply well-shaped and groomed set of fingernails is damn nigh perfection to me. One of my friends has such exquisite fingernails that I can’t help from getting massively aroused when I catch a glimpse of her hands. I don’t know if she always knew this, but she sure seemed to always go out of her way to show me her nails.
I swear that one day when out for lunch with friends, she was intentionally flaunting her nails and outright teasing me with no other intent than garnering this reaction from me. Well, she succeeded admirably. She is normally flirty and coy with most everyone, though she was going slightly above and beyond on this occasion. She was not only letting her playful grazes linger their touch just a split-second longer than usual, she would subtly brush my skin with those lovely nails every time she finally released her touch. She had me so fired up that I nearly lost my mind. I think she was even getting naughty pleasure out of the effect it had over me. After our meal, we all bid each other adieu. When I made it home, I realised that I was now yearning for that wicked euphoria I had earlier tried to avoid. I wanted nothing other than that same pleasure to overwhelm me again.