Earlier, I espied my man outside, in his flannel shirt, faded jeans, tousled hair, sitting in front of his lathe. His focus is entirely on the piece of wood he's transforming before him. Not me, not the weather, not anything but the whir of his machine and how his hands manipulate the tools to the block of wood, turning it into something amazing. Soon he cuts off the machine, stands up, stretches, *sigh* and brushes off the excess sawdust before sitting in a more relaxed position, now moving onto fine sanding or carving. His intensity is an aphrodisiac to me. When he comes inside the house, he'll smell of walnut or cherry or some other wood, and I can't help but bury my nose to his chest, wanting to strip him down right there, but instead dancing away with a low laugh as he trys to cop a feel with chilly hands. But man, later on, what he can do with those hands....whew.
So I keep it my secret, how I love to watch him work.
What about you? What seemingly innocuous task does a man perform that wets your whistle?