From the moment our hands touched, the tension was undeniable. Slow, teasing fingers exploring warm skin. Every inch kissed, licked, and loved with full attention. Foreplay wasn’t just a warm-up — it was its own story. Soft lips against sensitive spots, deep eye contact, and slow breathing that made the space between us electric. She opened up for everything, and I took my time tasting her. My tongue worked with purpose, my mouth owning her body as she moaned louder with every second. She gripped the sheets, pulled me closer, and asked for more — and I gave her exactly that. When I finally slid into her, it wasn’t fast — it was deep. Rhythmic, intense, and full of raw connection. Every thrust meant something. Every position brought out something new. She looked into my eyes while her body shook under mine, completely lost in the moment. We didn’t rush. We took our time exploring, building, breaking, and rebuilding pleasure — again and again.
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