21Sextreme
Nelly Kent, Eddie Pic(s)
The warm, soapy water sluiced over her skin, tracing the delicate curves of her collarbone before cascading in a glistening sheet down her back. She arched into the sensation, the rough texture of the sea sponge a delicious counterpoint to the slickness of the lavender-scented bubbles clinging to her arms. Her hands, slick and strong, glided over the smooth, cool surface of the tiles, wiping away every last trace of steam and grime with a satisfying sweep. A deep, contented sigh escaped her lips as she worked the taut muscles of her shoulders, the heat from the water seeping deep into her flesh, unknotting the day’s tensions. The rhythmic, circular motions were a meditation, each pass of the cloth a promise of purity and renewal for the space around her. Droplets clung to her eyelashes like tiny diamonds, and she blinked them away, her focus narrowing to the simple, primal pleasure of the task. The clean, sharp scent of citrus and mint filled the air, mingling with the natural, musky fragrance of her own exertion, a heady perfume of accomplishment. Every movement was fluid and intentional, a dance of efficiency that left a gleaming, spotless trail in its wake, a testament to her skilled touch. Finally, she stood back, breathless and glowing, her body humming with a quiet, profound satisfaction that radiated from her clean skin to the very core of her being.
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