The Fever Begins with a Stretch

Album NO.573

Description

That stretch is not an act; it is an unconscious surrender. Your invisible hand begins at the most fragile place, the skin of her armpit, just feeling the warmth and the private, inviting scent. Then, your hand slides down, tracing the lilac silk, landing where her ass is tightly embraced by the nightgown. You press your entire palm down, crushing the silk against the mattress. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of that surrender itself: pure silk and warm flesh. The fever has reached its peak. Now it's your time to answer. 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, quenching that fever with a wet reality.