Evilangel
Scarlet Chase Pic(s)
The room was thick with the scent of warm coconut oil and the low, rhythmic hum of anticipation. His hands, slick and sure, traced the delicate curve of her spine before settling on the swell of her hips, a silent promise of the cleansing ritual to come. The vessel, filled with a rich, opaque liquid the temperature of a summer bath, glistened under the soft lamplight as he prepared the apparatus. A gentle pressure, a yielding fullness, began to bloom deep within her, a slow, inexorable tide of warmth that spread through her core. She arched her back, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the luxurious flood filled her, a sensation both intensely intimate and profoundly releasing. With each controlled pulse from the bag, the heat intensified, coiling a tight spring of pleasure low in her belly, making her muscles clench and flutter. He whispered praises agat her neck, his fingers finding the swollen, sensitive bud between her legs, stroking in time with the internal rhythm. The overwhelming confluence of sensations—the deep heat, the skilled touch, the utter surrender—built to an unbearable peak, and her body convulsed in a powerful, liquid release that left her trembling and breathless. A profound sense of purity and spent ecstasy washed over her as the last shudders subsided, leaving her utterly weightless and completely his.
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