Devilsfilm
Kenzie Taylor, Rusty Nails, Logan Long Pic(s)
A deep and primal rhythm began to pulse between us, a silent command that my body answered without thought. His hands, strong and sure, anchored my hips, guiding me into a slow, deliberate cadence that felt as ancient as the tide. Each inward stroke was a claiming, a filling of a void I hadn’t fully acknowledged until that moment, a perfect, stretching completeness. I arched agat him, my head falling back as a low moan escaped my lips, the sound swallowed by the warm, charged air of the room. The friction was an exquisite torment, building a heat that coiled low in my belly with every deliberate, withdrawing glide. My fingers dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders, seeking purchase as the tempo gradually quickened, the pace becoming more urgent, more demanding. The world narrowed to this single, fluid point of connection, a seamless dance where two bodies became one singular, striving entity. I could feel the tension coiling within him, a mirror to my own rising peak, a shared precipice we approached with breathless anticipation. Every nerve ending sang, alight with the promise of the shattering release that was building, wave upon wave, deep within my core.
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