His hands. I love them. He’s got above average sized hands. They’re very thick. He’s a wild man so his knuckles are often calloused with the soft skin inbetween. His arms are scared here & there from roughhousing as a child. I love when he has a freshly scabbed wound. When we’re together I can feeling the healing scab of his wounds lightly brush across my skin. My big warrior man. The feeling of his calloused hands between my thighs & delicate parts is something unique. I can tell his hands apart from anyone else’s. He likes grabbing my neck with those heavy hands. He can be very rough. He’s not used to handling delicate things. I often find myself cautious of his excitement & agility but he’s very precise & never hurts me. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his hands. They’ve sent me under waterfalls. He’s really good with his hands.