The Fever Begins When the Skirt is Lifted High

Album NO.552

Description

The lifted skirt is not an accident; it is a declaration of war. Your invisible hand begins its pilgrimage on her bare back, then slides down to her inviting round ass. You don't just possess from the outside; you invade from within. Your hand slips underneath, gliding lightly over the inner surface of the silk, feeling the numbing friction between silk and inner thigh. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of suppressed provocation: pure silk and warm flesh. The fever has reached its peak. You release your hardness, pressing it directly where the deep teal 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, quenching that fever with a wet reality.