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The humid air clung to their young skin like a second, desperate layer as they moved agat each other in the chaotic, pulsing dark. A single, bare bulb overhead swung on its cord, casting frantic, strobing shadows that danced across a wall plastered with torn, lurid posters. His hands, slick with a fine sheen of sweat, traced the delicate, trembling curve of her spine, finding the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat agat his palm. The scent of cheap perfume, warm skin, and something metallic and dangerous filled every desperate, shared breath. Her whispered words were lost beneath the thrumming bass that vibrated up through the grimy floorboards, a primal sound that shook their very bones. He could taste the salt on her neck, a sharp, electric flavor that promised rebellion and raw, untamed freedom. Fingers tangled in damp hair, pulling just enough to draw a sharp, breathy gasp that was swallowed by the surrounding din. Every point of contact was a small, exquisite shock, a fleeting anchor in the swirling madness of the room. In that moment, there was only the frantic, beautiful collision of two bodies, a wild and perfect storm of sensation eclipsing everything else.
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