21Sextury
Whitney Conroy Pic(s)
The golden afternoon light spilled through the half-drawn blinds, casting long, warm stripes across the rumpled sheets where she lay. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as his shadow fell over her, a silent promise that made the air itself feel thick and sweet with anticipation. His fingers, when they finally traced the delicate line of her collarbone, were not hesitant but possessed a deliberate, worshipful heat that seeped straight into her marrow. She arched into his touch, a soft sigh escaping her as his palm slid down to cradle the gentle swell of her hip, his thumb stroking a maddeningly slow circle on the sensitive skin there. The scent of him—clean sweat and something uniquely, intoxicatingly male—filled her senses, drowning out all other thought. He lowered his head, and his mouth found the frantic pulse at the base of her throat, his tongue a brand of pure, liquid fire that made her fingers clutch at the sheets. Every nerve ending sang a chorus of pure, unadulterated need, her body becoming a landscape of sensation only he knew how to map. The world narrowed to this room, this bed, the heavy rhythm of their breathing syncing into one primal beat. It was a delicious, agonizing unraveling, a surrender to a pleasure so profound it felt like coming home.
Blonde | Fingering | Lingerie | Peeing | Solo | Straight | Toys
