Girlfriendsfilms
Zoey Holloway, Jenna J Ross Pic(s)
The afternoon sun cast long, golden fingers through the half-drawn blinds, striping the quiet room with alternating bands of light and shadow where dust motes danced in the stillness. Her gaze was a tangible weight, a slow, deliberate study that traced the line of my jaw before dropping to the flutter of my pulse at my throat. A single, cool fingertip followed that same path, a whisper of a touch that sent a cascade of shivers rippling across my skin, awakening every nerve ending to a new, humming awareness. The scent of her, jasmine and clean sweat, filled the space between us, an intoxicating perfume that made my head feel light and my breaths come shallow. Her other hand settled on the small of my back, a firm, guiding pressure that pulled our bodies closer until the soft warmth of her blouse brushed agat my bare arms. She leaned in, her lips not yet touching mine, but her breath a warm, shared caress that promised everything and demanded surrender. A low, approving murmur vibrated from her chest into mine, a sound that seemed to resonate deep within my own bones, unlocking a primal yearning I had long kept hidden. My own hands, tentative at first, found the curve of her hips, learning the solid strength there as the world outside the window faded into irrelevance. In that suspended moment, there was only the silent, profound language of our bodies, a lesson in intimacy taught without a single word being spoken.
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