Evilangel
Caitlin Bell, Zac Wild Pic(s)
The warm, viscous liquid shimmered under the low light as it was poured in a slow, deliberate stream, tracing the lush, generous curves of her form. Each drop clung to her skin like liquid amber, highlighting the soft, pale expanse and catching the glow from the nearby lamp. My hands, slick and gliding, followed the path of the oil, discovering the heavy, breathtaking weight of her breasts as they filled my palms. A soft, breathy sigh escaped her lips when my thumbs circled the taut peaks, causing them to harden tantly agat my touch. The intoxicating scent of almonds and vanilla rose from our heated skin, mingling with the quiet, humid air of the room. I leaned closer, my mouth finding the sensitive hollow of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin beneath the silken coating. Our bodies slid together in a seamless, frictionless dance, every movement a whisper of intimate contact. The world narrowed to this single, slick point of connection, a universe contained within the glide of flesh on flesh. A deep, resonant moan vibrated through her chest and into mine as the pressure built, a promise of the shared release to come.
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