Just a Thin Layer of Silk Separating You and The Storm

Album NO.562

Description

The room is silent, but the storm is right here, and she is its epicenter. Your invisible hand begins its pilgrimage, sliding down to where her ass is tightly embraced by the nightgown, pressed firmly against the chair. The gleaming gold heels are a proud defiance. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of the storm itself: pure silk and the compressed, warm scent of flesh. That thin layer of silk is the final frontier. Now it's time to break it. You release your hardness, pressing it directly against that silken altar. 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 the wet signature of your storm on that thin silk, an undeniable conquest.