21Sextury
Mia Richi, Willy Regal Pic(s)
The world narrowed to the single, profound point of connection, a slow, deliberate pressure that promised a new kind of intimacy. A sharp, bright intake of breath gave way to a deep, shuddering release as the initial resistance melted into a stunning, full surrender. Every nerve ending seemed to realign, focusing on the exquisite stretch, a feeling of being filled beyond previous comprehension. His movements were a patient, rhythmic language, each gentle thrust a question that her body answered with a soft, yielding sigh. The friction was not harsh, but a building, internal heat that coiled low in her belly, spreading tendrils of warmth through her entire being. She could feel the fine tremor in his muscles as he held himself in check, his control a testament to the shared intensity of the moment. Her own hips began to move in a counter rhythm, a silent plea for more, for a deeper, more urgent joining. The air grew thick with the sounds of their union—ragged breaths, the slick, intimate slide of skin agat skin, a low moan torn from her throat. In that suspended space, there was no thought, only pure, overwhelming sensation, a journey into a core of pleasure so profound it felt like a form of truth.
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