Sleepwalking Into Seduction

Brazzers

Savannah Stern, Charles Dera Pic(s)

The city outside Savannah Stern’s rain-streaked window was a blur of neon and shadow, a perfect mirror for her own fractured consciousness as she moved through the luxurious apartment in a state of somnambulant grace. Charles Dera was a paradox of stillness and intensity, his presence a gravitational pull that seemed to warp the very air in the room, making resistance feel both futile and deeply unnecessary. Every glance they exchanged was not a spark but a slow, smoldering fuse, a silent communication that bypassed reason and spoke directly to the primal core of her being. His fingers, when they finally brushed against her arm, left a trail of fire on her cool skin, a sensation so vivid it felt more real than the plush carpet beneath her bare feet. Savannah felt herself leaning into his touch not as a conscious decision, but as an inevitable surrender to a current she had been sleepwalking toward all evening. The low, throaty murmur of his voice was a vibration she felt in her bones, a hypnotic cadence that further unraveled her already tenuous grip on wakeful thought. This was a seduction of the senses, a deliberate dismantling of her defenses where every whispered word and lingering look felt both dangerously new and hauntingly familiar. She was a vessel being filled with a languid heat, her own breath catching as his lips traced a path from her jaw to her collarbone, each point of contact a tiny supernova. The world beyond the glass ceased to exist, its sounds and lights fading into a distant hum that was utterly drowned out by the roaring silence between their two bodies. In this dreamlike state, the line between being led and willingly following dissolved completely, leaving only the profound, terrifying thrill of the freefall.

Brazzers

Savannah Stern, Charles Dera Pic(s)

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