ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The city slept under a blanket of stars, but in the soft glow of lamplight, our world was just beginning. Her perfume, a delicate whisper of Chanel, traced a path through the air every time she moved, an intoxicating ribbon that drew me closer. I watched the candlelight catch the curve of her neck as she tilted her head back with a soft, knowing smile. My fingers, trembling slightly, brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, and her eyes, dark pools of quiet intensity, held mine with unspoken promise. A soft sigh escaped her lips as my hand came to rest on the small of her back, feeling the gentle arch of her spine beneath the silk. The world narrowed to this single, breathless point, where the only sound was the shared rhythm of our hearts beating in a silent, frantic duet. She leaned into the touch, her forehead resting against mine, her warm breath mingling with my own in a sweet, shared atmosphere. Every glance was a conversation, every slight touch a question answered with a yielding softness. I could feel the trust flowing from her, a warm, palpable thing that made my own chest ache with a profound tenderness. In that suspended moment, we were not two people, but a single, perfect note of longing and anticipation hanging in the quiet night.
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