21Sextury
Kiara Lord, Thomas Stone, Darrell Deeps Pic(s)
The air hummed with a feverish warmth, thick with the scent of their skin and the soft, rhythmic sounds of their union. Her world had narrowed to the points of contact, the solid heat of one man pressed agat her back, his breath a hot whisper agat her neck, while another filled her vision, his gaze locking with hers as he moved before her. A low, shuddering moan escaped her lips as the sensation of being completely surrounded, utterly claimed, blossomed from a shocking pressure into a deep, radiating fullness that made her nerves sing. Fingers, calloused and gentle, traced the curve of her hip, a counterpoint to the possessive grip on her waist, anchoring her in the overwhelming tide of feeling. Every shift, every subtle adjustment, sent new currents of pleasure arcing through her, a dual rhythm that built upon itself, tightening the coil deep within her core. She could feel the tension building in the bodies encircling her, a shared, palpable energy that crackled in the dim light. The slick, warm friction was a perfect, consuming fire, burning away all thought until there was only the primal language of touch and breath. A final, deliberate thrust from behind met a deep, grinding press from the front, and the world dissolved into a blinding, shattering wave of release that left her trembling and breathless, suspended between them. In the heavy, quiet aftermath, their shared warmth was a blanket, and the lingering pulses of sensation were a sweet, fading echo of their shared journey.
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