I was at the doctors,
in the waiting room,
when the man next to me started to make out with his hand.
He lathered his hand in saliva,
to the point were it was dripping onto his lap.
He slowly rubbed his tongue up and down his wet, juicy hand.
He seemed to find much pleasure in making out with his hand.
So I joined him.
I liked it.
So did my hand.