Brazzers
Bill Bailey, Chanel Preston Pic(s)
The golden morning light streamed through the penthouse window, illuminating dust motes dancing around a blissfully disheveled Bill Bailey. He stretched his powerful arms with a contented groan, the crisp sheets pooling around his waist. Beside him, Chanel Preston propped herself up on one elbow, her fiery red hair a stunning mess against the silk pillows. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips as she traced a lazy circle on his bare shoulder. “You were quite the unstoppable force last night,” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep, a playful challenge sparkling in her eyes. Bill chuckled deeply, the sound rumbling through his chest as he turned to face her, his own gaze alight with mischievous recollection. “Well, when the inspiration is this breathtaking,” he countered, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek, “a man is compelled to rise to the occasion, repeatedly.” Chanel’s laugh was a soft, melodic sound that seemed to fill the entire sun-drenched room with its warmth. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Inspiration?” she teased, leaning in closer until their lips were almost touching. “I believe the proper term is a masterpiece,” he whispered back, closing the final, intimate distance between them as the city hummed to life far below their private sanctuary.
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