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Franny, Zazie Skymm Pic(s)
The sun’s honeyed warmth seeped through the sheer fabric of her dress, a lazy caress that mirrored the gentle pressure of his palm agat the small of her back. A faint breeze, carrying the intoxicating perfume of jasmine and damp earth, stirred the air around them, rustling the leaves of the old oak tree in a soft, rhythmic whisper. He leaned in, his breath a warm ghost agat the shell of her ear before his lips found the sensitive pulse point just below her jaw, a kiss as slow and deliberate as the passing day. Her head tilted back in a silent offering, a sigh escaping her parted lips as his fingers traced a languid path up her spine, each vertebra a tiny milestone of rising pleasure. The world narrowed to this secluded bower, the dappled light painting shifting patterns on their skin, the distant hum of bees a hypnotic drone. She could feel the solid strength of his thigh pressed agat hers, a firm anchor in the swirling, sensual haze that clouded her thoughts and sharpened every sensation. His other hand came to rest on her hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles that sent shivers radiating deep into her core, a promise of things to come. The taste of him, of skin and sunshine and something uniquely male, filled her senses when their mouths finally met in a deep, exploring kiss that stole her breath. In that suspended moment, surrounded by the vibrant life of the hidden sanctuary, every touch was amplified, every sound a symphony, building a delicious tension that thrummed through her entire being.
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