The Attack on the Dreamy Satin Surface

Album NO.388

Description

Your invisible hand glides down her slender back, feeling every gleaming fold of the lilac satin embracing her body. Then, unable to wait any longer, you press your entire palm onto her round ass resting on the cold stone. The ultimate contrast: the warmth of flesh, the slickness of silk, and the inanimate cold of the stone. The fabric stretches, unforgivingly exposing the sinful panty line, a secret inviting conquest. You squeeze hard until the silk wrinkles and strains in your palm, listening to the dry rustle, a sound of surrender. This tactile madness demands a scent to be complete. You lean in, inhaling deeply right over the lilac satin surface, swallowing the scent of surrender: the pure smell of new silk, a hint of cold stone, and the warm scent of trapped flesh. That scent is the detonator. Reason ceases to exist. You whip out your roaring cock and erupt immediately onto that surrender. A fleeting explosion, leaving a wet mark on the dreamy silk, turning the attack into an undeniable trophy.