Evilangel
Jenna Foxx, Jay Smooth, Jason Moody Pic(s)
The dim light traced the elegant curve of her spine as she arched between two forms, a study in stark contrast agat pale skin. Cool silk whispered agat her heated flesh, the delicate straps a mere suggestion agat her shoulders as another’s warm breath ghosted across her nape. Fingertips, calloused and gentle, explored the sensitive landscape of her ribs, mapping the frantic rhythm of her heart beneath. A soft moan escaped her lips, lost agat a collarbone as a mouth found the delicate hollow of her throat, tasting of salt and desire. Her own hands were not idle, tangling in soft hair, pressing agat firm muscle, claiming the two bodies that cradled her. The air thickened with the scent of arousal, a heady perfume of skin and shared warmth that made every inhalation an act of intimacy. She was the focal point, the dark star around which this tender gravity orbited, every touch a silent promise. A shuddering sigh wove through the room as lips traveled lower, following the path of a black lace edge, a prelude to a deeper surrender. In that suspended moment, there was only the symphony of touch, the visual poetry of dark agat light, and the overwhelming sensation of being utterly, completely possessed.
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