Man, I love snuggling. There's just something about me that can't get enough of it! That rush of closeness, warmth, intimacy. Snuggling is just the next thing over to bliss. A good snuggle leaves you feeling like you're drifting through a pre-dawn sky wrapped up in a sun-warmed cloud!
But it's starting to get out of control. I find myself snuggling with total strangers. Am I right to be doing this? Seeking that cheap thrill of solace and refuge, lost and entwined in the snuggle of someone I don't even know? I can't help myself! A friendly chit-chat will strike itself up, with a woman I don't even know and BAM! Next thing I know, we end up in bed! Snuggling.
There's something indecent about it. A feeling of guilt that creeps in, after. But not during! For as long as you're lost in that fit of arms around, and of heads to shoulders, of backs and fronts and limbs arrayed in the ways they naturally stray together, of legs finding together a subtle invisible interlace that feels so perfect it's like ballet origami - and each snuggle is unique to that specific two people! No snuggle-set yields exactly the same series of clinches, contours and configurations. The tiny differences thrill, yielding always a new and enrapturing meld to savor, to work your way completely in to.
I can't stop. Some part of me knows its wrong, on some level, but I can't stop! And why should I? Why am I the one to whom it falls to show some restraint? It does take two, after all. It's a shared decision. Nobody's forcing anybody.
But, man. These women just can't seem to get enough snuggling!
But it's starting to get out of control. I find myself snuggling with total strangers. Am I right to be doing this? Seeking that cheap thrill of solace and refuge, lost and entwined in the snuggle of someone I don't even know? I can't help myself! A friendly chit-chat will strike itself up, with a woman I don't even know and BAM! Next thing I know, we end up in bed! Snuggling.
There's something indecent about it. A feeling of guilt that creeps in, after. But not during! For as long as you're lost in that fit of arms around, and of heads to shoulders, of backs and fronts and limbs arrayed in the ways they naturally stray together, of legs finding together a subtle invisible interlace that feels so perfect it's like ballet origami - and each snuggle is unique to that specific two people! No snuggle-set yields exactly the same series of clinches, contours and configurations. The tiny differences thrill, yielding always a new and enrapturing meld to savor, to work your way completely in to.
I can't stop. Some part of me knows its wrong, on some level, but I can't stop! And why should I? Why am I the one to whom it falls to show some restraint? It does take two, after all. It's a shared decision. Nobody's forcing anybody.
But, man. These women just can't seem to get enough snuggling!
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