Poetry Friday WORD for Tomorrow: Chapter 4: When I think about you....

Okay, let's get this out of the way...I had a birthday two days ago. (Work and kid stuff kept me too busy to post it.) Yeah, thank you...Sergei and the kids did it up good, took me out to dinner and gave me tons of gifts and lovin' on Monday night, and on Tuesday (the actual day) we had cake after the myriad of soccer-related activities were done and we reconned at home right before bedtime. The boys at work made me breakfast to celebrate, some girlfriends at work gave me a bowl of cakey goodness and a gift certificate to a local Adult store with the promise we HAD to go shopping...got cash from the in-laws (who love me...and why wouldn't they). If it wasn't for the fact that I'm one year closer to Social Security and Death, it would have been like Christmas!

We're on our fourth sense for Poetry Friday, and since I'm the Birthday Girl this week, I choose...TOUCH. Like that's any surprise to any of you. I've gushed here before about my sensitivity to touch, my overactive tactile urges, my ability to feel things deeply and quickly. I must have very sensitive nerve endings, or more of 'em...or I'm just a perv that allows the gentlest touch of office furniture to send me into quivering shivers of pleasure.

Sumpin' like that.

Feel free to rub lotion into your blog post tomorrow and tell us about the Sense of Touch. Tell us a story, write an epic poem to your backside, whisper sweet nothings in our bloggy earholes. I wanna hear you dish, people...let's hear it! Talk to me about TOUCH.

This is, of course, the first video that came to mind...uh...would someone tell this MILF to give her lips back to Renee Zellweger? Oh yeah, this is NSFW, so please be careful...and turn your sound down.