Zerotolerancefilms
Maddy May, Isiah Maxwell Pic(s)
The room was thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation, a heavy perfume that clung to the air like a second skin. His presence was an undeniable force, a towering figure whose every movement was a promise of raw, unadulterated power. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of awe and hunger, traveled the formidable length of him, a journey that made her breath catch in her throat. The sheer magnitude of his arousal was a testament to the tension that had been building between them for what felt like an eternity. A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest as he stepped closer, the heat from his body washing over her in a palpable wave. Her fingers, trembling slightly, reached out to make contact, her touch tentative at first agat the smooth, heated steel of his flesh. That single point of connection sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to her core, a primal acknowledgment of the pleasure to come. He guided her hand, his own engulfing hers, encouraging a firmer, more confident grasp that elicited a sharp, mutual intake of air. This was the precipice, the silent, breathless moment before the storm of sensation would truly break, leaving only the two of them entangled in the aftermath.
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