Wicked
Joanna Angel, Eliza Ibarra Pic(s)
The familiar space between them crackled with a new, electric tension as his hand found the small of her back, a place he’d touched a thousand times in jest now feeling like the epicenter of a seismic shift. Her breath hitched, a soft, audible gasp that was not one of surprise but of recognition, as if a long-held secret had finally been spoken aloud. The scent of her shampoo, usually just a background note of their friendship, now filled his senses with an intoxicating intimacy, mingling with the warm, clean smell of his skin. He watched the pulse flutter at the base of her throat, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the wild beating of his own heart, and he slowly leaned in, giving her every opportunity to retreat. She didn’t move, her eyes darkening with a depth of wanting he had never dared to imagine, her lips parting in a silent invitation he could no longer resist. The first brush of his mouth agat hers was not a collision but a fusion, a gentle exploration that tasted of shared laughter and unspoken years, sweet and infinitely patient. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, erasing the last invisible boundary that had ever stood between them with a possessiveness that made him groan. Every point of contact, from the press of her hips to the slide of his palm up her spine, felt like a homecoming to a place he never knew he belonged. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the soft sounds of their breathing and the profound rightness of two souls finally aligning as one.
Big Tits | Brunette | Bubble Butt | College | Dark Hair | Face Sitting | Fingering | Fishnets | Hardcore | Milf | Natural Tits | Pussy Eating | Scissoring | Tattoos
