21Sextreme
Sissy, Roxy Risingstar Pic(s)
The oppressive heat of the midday sun was a physical weight upon his shoulders, a stark contrast to the cool, slick sweat that traced the hard lines of his back. His calloused fingers, caked with the gritty promise of the earth, curled around a chunk of quartz veined with a faint, alluring sparkle. He brought it close, his breath catching as the light caught the hidden treasure within, a shimmering thread of potential that mirrored the sudden, sharp desire coiling low in his belly. The scent of damp soil and his own raw exertion filled the air, a primal perfume that spoke of labor and longing. He could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his own heart, a rhythm syncopated agat the distant, relentless flow of the river. Every sense felt heightened, every brush of the rough fabric of his trousers agat his skin a minor revelation. The world narrowed to this single point of discovery, the gleam of metal awakening a hunger far deeper than that for wealth. It was the thrill of the hunt, the ache of anticipation for the riches yet to be unearthed, a palpable tension that tightened his muscles. In that suspended moment, the promise of what lay buried, both in the land and within himself, was an almost unbearable pleasure.
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