Diabolic
LaSirena69, Lucas Frost Pic(s)
The late afternoon sun, heavy and golden, poured through the library’s tall windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny stars around her. He watched, mesmerized, as she leaned over the ancient oak desk, the generous curve of her bosom straining agat the soft cotton of her blouse with each deliberate movement. A single button had come undone, revealing a tantalizing shadow of cleavage that promised profound softness. Her perfume, a subtle blend of jasmine and warm skin, filled the space between them, becoming the only text he could possibly read. Her voice was a low, melodic hum as she explained the complex theorem, but her words dissolved into meaningless sound as his gaze traced the line where her wrist met the textbook. She paused, sensing his distraction, and a slow, knowing smile graced her lips as she deliberately closed the heavy book with a soft thud. The silence that followed was thick and electric, broken only by the rustle of her skirt as she shifted her weight, turning fully towards him. Her eyes, dark and liquid, held his with an unspoken question, an invitation to a far more intimate curriculum. His breath caught in his throat as she reached out, her fingers, cool from resting on the polished wood, gently tilting his chin up to meet her unwavering gaze, initiating a new, wordless dialogue.
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