ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The storm outside our secluded cabin whispered secrets against the windowpane, a rhythmic counterpoint to the frantic beating of my own heart. His gaze, heavy with unspoken longing, traced the line of my jaw as if memorizing its shape for eternity. A gentle hand found the small of my back, its warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my dress and scattering my thoughts like autumn leaves. I leaned into his solid strength, my forehead resting against his, our shared breath creating a private, humid universe between us. The scent of rain-soaked earth and his subtle cologne wove an intoxicating spell around our silent communion. Every slight shift of his body against mine sent a new, delicious tremor coursing through my veins, awakening a deep, aching need. His lips finally met mine in a slow, searching kiss that tasted of promises and sweet, stolen wine. In that endless moment, the world beyond our embrace simply ceased to exist, forgotten in the wake of this overwhelming tenderness. A soft sigh escaped me, not of surrender, but of profound recognition, as if my soul had finally found its missing harbor. We were no longer two separate beings, but a single, radiant flame dancing in the comforting darkness.
Comments
Post a Comment