ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The city slept under a blanket of distant, silent stars, but in our room, the world was awake with a soft, golden glow from a single lamp. Her perfume, a delicate blend of rose and sandalwood, seemed to hang in the air like a forgotten promise. I watched the way her fingers traced the rim of her wine glass, a slow, deliberate circle that made my breath catch. When her eyes met mine, they held a universe of unspoken words, a silent conversation that echoed in the quiet space between us. A gentle smile touched her lips as she leaned forward, her shoulder just barely brushing against my arm, sending a wave of warmth through me. The silk of her robe whispered secrets as she moved, the sound a delicate counterpoint to the frantic beating of my own heart. In that suspended moment, every sense felt heightened, from the taste of dark cherries on my tongue to the faint scent of rain on the night breeze. She placed her hand over mine, her touch not a demand but a question, and my entire soul answered with a silent, yearning yes. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, a current of pure feeling flowing between our intertwined fingers. We existed in a beautiful, breathless harmony, two separate melodies finally finding their way into one perfect, timeless song.
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