After being single for a few months I have begun to strongly experience not loneliness but an intense desire for physical touch at all times. This has been particularly keen in viewing riders being embraced by their loved ones at the finish line. Burning through my core are the images of a manicured hand caressing an ear, a jaw, the nape of the neck. Electricity sparks across my skin as I imagine the soft welcoming touch of fingers surrounding the ear, palm cushioning the chin, the hand becoming taut as it traces the base of the skull, leading to firm but passionate pressure through the neck, fingers moving through the base of the hair, the zenith of the vertebrae, the resilient muscles of the neck gladly submitting to that strength beginning with the hand and ending with the furious press of lips.

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I would profane my physical being for her.