Addicted2Girls
Abby Cross, Abigail Mac Pic(s)
Her breath hitched as a single, warm tear traced a path from the corner of her eye, disappearing into the silvered strands of hair fanned across the pillow. The woman above her stilled, her hovering form a sanctuary of heat and quiet understanding, and with an infinite tenderness, she lowered her lips to capture that solitary drop of salt and vulnerability. A soft sigh, more felt than heard, passed between them as their foreheads gently met, creating a private world contained within that delicate point of contact. In the profound silence, her thumb began a slow, hypnotic rhythm agat a flushed cheekbone, a wordless conversation that spoke of adoration deeper than any language could convey. The frantic energy of before had melted away, leaving only the raw, pulsing truth of connection laid bare between their softly aligned bodies. She could feel the steady, strong beat of the other’s heart agat her own chest, a synchronized rhythm that seemed to promise, ‘you are not alone.’ Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the sensation of being truly seen, of every hidden part of her soul being acknowledged and cherished without judgment. A whisper of a kiss, impossibly gentle, was brushed agat her lips, not as a demand but as a seal upon a silent vow made in the intimate darkness. In that suspended moment, there was no past and no future, only the exquisite, heart-stopping perfection of two spirits intertwined in a breathless, heartfelt peace.
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