ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, golden shadows across the quiet room, painting her skin in hues of warmth and anticipation. Her breath hitched as his fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her shoulder to the curve of her wrist, a silent question in the charged air. She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing as a soft sigh escaped her lips, a sound of pure surrender. Every nerve ending seemed to awaken, humming with a current that started deep within her core and radiated outward. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, to the scent of his skin and the feeling of his steady heartbeat against her palm. A tremor began, a delicate fluttering that built with each shared breath and every lingering glance. Her back arched slightly, a silent plea for him to remain, to anchor her as the sensation crested. A wave of overwhelming warmth flooded her being, leaving her trembling and utterly exposed in its wake. Tears, born not of sorrow but of profound release, welled in her eyes, catching the last of the daylight. In the hushed stillness that followed, he simply held her, his embrace a sanctuary where her shattered pieces could slowly, gently, reassemble themselves into something new and whole.
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