“Come on,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, the words simple but heavy with meaning. “Come on,” she murmured, her voice low enough
She arched her back, the curve of her spine accentuating the curve of her hips, her breath coming in short, excited gasps. Her fingers tightened around your hair, pulling you deeper, encouraging you to maintain a steady pace. The world narrowed down to the feeling of skin against skin, the sound of her name whispered through your lips, and the rhythmic thump of the music echoing in the background. The world narrowed down to the feeling of
Your fingers traced the curve of her waist, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breathing. You could see the faint outline of a tattoo—a delicate rose—nestled just above her hip, a small, intimate detail that made her all the more real, all the more present. “She confesses anal is new but trusts you
“She confesses anal is new but trusts you. You agree: no sudden movements, constant check-ins, and a safe word (‘pineapple’).”