Starved for Touch - Sex Stories

Starved for Touch

I was in my office, preparing the sermon for next Sunday's service, when Anna appeared in the doorway. "I'm all done with the cleaning, Reverend," she said.

Anna and her parents were longtime members of the church. She was twenty and attended a university within easy commuting distance, so she still lived at home. Now that it was summer, she'd volunteered to clean the church every week. I found it rare to encounter someone Anna's age who was so devout. With her red hair piled into a messy bun, it was easy to notice the gold cross that hung from her slender, graceful neck. Her jeans and t-shirt were modest, and on Sunday, she would, without a doubt, be wearing an equally modest dress.

"Thank you, Anna," I said, giving her a smile. "I appreciate all you do here." She nodded but made no move to leave. I sensed something was on her mind. Though I'd always enjoyed talking to the young woman, I knew she was quite a profound thinker. She often posed questions about topics like free will and original sin, questions for which I had no simple answers. "Is there something you'd like to discuss?" I asked her.

"If you have just a minute. I promise I won't take much time."

"Of course." I gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of my desk. She ducked her head, appearing shy as she entered the office, but I knew she'd grow more comfortable once she started talking.

After she was settled, her eyes met mine. Breathing in, I thought I could detect a hint of lemon from the ...

... furniture polish she'd used. "Reverend," she began, "do you think a person can actually be touch starved?"

I furrowed my brow, for the term wasn't familiar to me. "Touch starved?"

"Yes. I just read an article about it. The article said that humans need touch, and if they don't get it on a regular basis, they suffer from all kinds of problems, like low dopamine and serotonin levels, and higher amounts of stress hormones."

I couldn't help but wonder why Anna wanted to discuss this with me. Her eyes, as blue as the ocean surface above great depths, were fixed on my face while she waited for my answer. "I suppose it makes sense," I finally said. "We humans are social beings; we long for community and friendship, and affection." Of course, we longed for sensual touch as well, but I knew it wasn't appropriate to mention that to Anna. "So if we're deprived of that, I imagine it could negatively affect our health." Clasping my hands on the desk, I leaned forward a little. "I'm curious as to why you've been thinking about this. Do you feel like you might be touch starved?"

Anna gave a little shrug, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Maybe? I mean, you know my parents. I understand they love me, but they're pretty strict, and they've never been all that affectionate. And I..." Her voice caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before going on. "I've never even had a boyfriend. I just realized earlier today that this whole summer, you're the only person I've touched ...