Evilangel
Adira Allure, Michael Vegas Pic(s)
The room held its breath as she arched into a perfect curve, her body a symphony of taut muscle and yielding softness. A single bead of perspiration traced a slow path down the small of her back, catching the low light like a liquid diamond before disappearing into the shadowed divide. Her own fingers, slick and knowing, worked with a patient rhythm, coaxing a profound openness from her most secret entrance. A soft, guttural sound escaped her lips, a primal note of surrender that hung thick in the air. Then came the shimmering release, a hot, sudden rush that painted the sheets beneath her in glistening arcs, a testament to her utter abandon. The very air seemed to thicken with the musky, sweet scent of her pleasure, a fragrance of salt and ripe fruit. Her inner muscles fluttered in a final, involuntary pulse around the newfound emptiness, a delicate aftershock of sensation. She collapsed forward, a satisfied sigh whispering through the stillness, her skin glowing with a fine sheen of exertion. In the quiet aftermath, the evidence of her climax remained, a vivid and breathtaking portrait of ecstasy achieved.
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