Girlfriendsfilms
Lone Star Angel, Summer Pic(s)
The air in the room was thick with the scent of jasmine and warm skin, a heady perfume that clung to the three women tangled upon the silk sheets. Fingertips, delicate as moth wings, traced the sensitive curve of a spine, eliciting a sharp, shuddering intake of breath from the woman arching into the touch. A second pair of hands, bolder and more possessive, slid up a smooth thigh, nails grazing lightly before finding the soft, hidden heat at its apex. A low moan was swallowed by a hungry mouth as lips met in a deep, searching kiss, tasting of wine and shared desire. Whispers, fractured and urgent, passed between them, promises and pleas lost in the humid space between their bodies. One woman, her head thrown back in abandon, felt the wet trail of a tongue follow the pulse beating wildly in her throat while another’s mouth closed over a taut, pebbled nipple. The boundaries of individual selves began to blur, melting away under the relentless, worshipful attention of hands and mouths exploring every secret place. Each movement was a question answered by a gasp, a thrust of hips meeting the rhythm of another’s questing fingers. In that suspended moment, they were a single, shuddering entity, a constellation of pleasure burning brightly agat the dark.
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