There I was, in the thick of the crowd, grooving by myself to the melody.
And then there was he. Some nameless, faceless person who planted his hands firmly around my waist. He wanted to dance.
Where he touched me felt almost electric. Strong hands on my waist, on my thighs. It felt very masculine, yet gentle. It was like conduction of energy through my clothes and all over my body. It felt reminiscent, healing, and whole. Like a huge part of what I've been missing.
This very last time I was touched was this past December. And now I don't just crave it. I hunger for it.
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