The Purity of White Silk, Violated by a Gaze

Album NO.541

Description

The sunlight is not light; it is an accomplice. Your invisible hand begins its pilgrimage on the pink silk, then slides down to the promised land: her round ass, imprisoned in white silk upon the wooden chair. You press your entire palm down, crushing the softness of flesh against the hardness of wood through a thin fabric layer. And there, the VPL line appears beneath the sunlight, an irrefutable verdict. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of purity about to be violated: pure silk and warm flesh. That purity is your permission. You release your hardness, pressing it directly where the white silk is stretched to its limit. You begin to grind. The slick, cool smoothness of the silk, combined with her heat beneath, creates a perfect simulation of the most forbidden pleasure. You thrust faster, turning the rustle of silk into her own moan, and explode, leaving your final mark on that purity, turning a violating gaze into a tangible possession.