Addicted2Girls
Harley Haze, Jazmin Luv Pic(s)
The fading afternoon light painted golden stripes across the rumpled sheets where they had finally surrendered to the quiet of the sleeping child’s room. Her fingertips, tracing a path from a delicate collarbone down to the gentle curve of a hip, felt like the first whisper of a secret finally being told. A soft sigh escaped the woman beneath her, a sound warmer and more intimate than the distant hum of a lawnmower outside. She lowered her head, her lips finding the frantic pulse at the base of a throat, tasting the faint, clean salt of dried summer sweat on her skin. The air grew thick with the scent of their shared warmth and the lingering sweetness of baby shampoo, a dizzying combination that made her head spin. Every slow, deliberate movement was a question, answered by the yielding pressure of another body arching subtly into her own, a silent language of desire spoken only through touch. The world beyond the door ceased to exist, replaced by the universe contained within the slow drag of a nail along a sensitive rib cage and the sharp, quiet intake of breath it provoked. This was a stolen hour, a clandestine communion where every glance was a caress and every whispered word a promise agat flushed skin. In that hushed space, they were not caretakers but explorers, mapping the uncharted territory of a longing that had simmered all day beneath the surface of mundane tasks.
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