I can’t remember at what age I started painting my nails. I always liked them painted. I tried different length and colours and patterns. I tried a lot of things. A couple of years ago I switched from painting my nails to having them done, with Shellac. And I love it for many reasons.
I love that the colour stays on for much longer and doesn’t chip off. I can do the dishes and my nails still look great. But even more is the process of getting my nails done. I found an amazing, lovely nail beauty studio. The people working there are nice and always happy to see me. When I arrive, I get a coffee without even asking. They help me choose a colour, even colours which are outside my comfort zone.
The best part is the process itself. Getting my nails done means actively taking an hour out of my day. In this hour I can’t do much, but enjoy. My hands are tied. Well not tied, but occupied and I can’t play with my phone or distract myself or waste my time in any other way.
All I can do it enjoy. I get pampered. I get a massage of my hands. One of the wonderful ladies there pays attention that I’m happy with the nails and the colour and simply feel good.
And the conversations are fun. Whether it’s kids or men or sex or Covid or whatever. I always laugh when I’m there. And I feel so pretty when I leave.
I make a point of pretty and well manicured nails. It might be because I use my hands A LOT when I speak. With a nice colour and shape my nails become an additional accessory. When it’s past time to get my nails done again or they are chips or imperfect in any other way, I don’t like it. I feel that everyone notices that and I’m uncomfortable. Obviously I know that isn’t true.
All that is only about me. I rarely notice what other people do with their nails. Whether they are manicured or not. It’s not important to me. I mean, I wouldn’t let a guy with cracked and dirty fingernails finger me, but I guess that’s common sense.
What I enjoy even more is when I get a pedicure. I love it when my feet are touched and rubbed and even beaten. But that is a different topic.
And in the end, there is something really nice about red painted nails on a hand holding a cock. Wouldn’t you agree?