hands first

Hoda looked at the road. Driving stressed Hoda. She wasn't very good at it, and what with this 2016 Honda Fit being brand new, she really did not want to crash it. She also didn't want Harold to get hurt. She started picturing a horrible accident. She saw Harold laying motionless, eyes open, bleeding out the mouth, dead, probably, no, definitely, if his eyes are open he's dead. Hoda imagined Harold's mother, who she had never met, calling her and blaming Hoda for the **** of her son. Hoda imagined saying "Please, I loved him too!" Then Hoda wondered if she loved Harold...probably not, but maybe, maybe she was in the process of falling in love. Either way, she'd claim to love him after he was dead.

"Oh it has a sunroof!"

Harold broke Hoda's tragedy trance. Hoda looked at Harold.

"Huh?"

"A sunroof! That's pretty cool."

Harold started to open the sunroof. The sunroof was a pretty cool feature of the 2016 Honda Fit.

"It's a little cold to open it, I guess." He said. It was January so it was a little chilly outside. Hoda could've handled the chill though. Hoda liked the cold. It made her feel alive.

"I like the cold. It makes me feel alive." Hoda said.

Harold stared at Hoda for a moment. He reached his hand out and layed it on top of her right hand, which was resting on her leg. Yes, Hoda did not have her hands at 10 and 2, sometimes she liked to relax a little.

Harold's touch sent lightening through Hoda's body. She could feel her hole pulsing. Suddenly, her underwear felt swampy. Hoda often prematurely lubricated, she couldn't help it. She looked over, as sly as she could, and saw that Harold had a little premature something of his own (a boner).

Harold threaded his fingers through hers. They were now holding hands. Hoda breathed in deeply. She felt her hand get hot, burning hot. Sometimes when Harold touched her, whatever he was touching suddenly felt like a hot electric stove top. Hoda wasn't sure if he could feel this too, or if it was just some sort of anxiety about her natural body heat.

"Does my hand feel hot?" Hoda asked.

"Um...it's a little warm. A little clammy."

Harold rubbed his fingers on her palm. Harold's fingers slid around like Hoda's palm was a slip and slide or something. Hoda could feel the sweat coming out of her pores. _Why is this happening???? _Hoda thought desperately.

"I like your clammy hands." Harold muttered.

Hoda squeezed Harold's hand. She squeezed it as hard as she could which was pretty damn hard. Hoda started pulsing her hand, sort of like her box was pulsing. Squeezing Harold's hand to some sort of instinctive beat, Hoda hoped to convey, _This is what I can do with my burrow should you enter it with your staff. _And Hoda could, she could squeeze a man's rock hard serpent with her foxhole almost as hard as she could squeeze his hand with her's. Yes, Hoda was a talented lady.

"Ow" Harold whispered.

"Am I hurting you?" Hoda said, a little too loudly. She took her hand away from Harold's, feeling embarrassed.

Harold reached back for her hand.

"In a good way." He said.

Hoda couldn't help but moan, so she did. Hoda moaned.