ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The city slept under a blanket of distant, winking stars, but in the quiet of the room, the world had shrunk to the space between our breaths. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from my wrist to my shoulder, a whisper of contact that sent shivers cascading down my spine. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation as his palm settled warmly against the small of my back, drawing me closer. The scent of his skin, a mix of clean linen and the night air, filled my senses, becoming my only reality. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not from my own will, but from the overwhelming tenderness of his nearness. He leaned his forehead against mine, our shared breath a silent, humid promise in the dim light. Every point where our bodies met felt electric, a current of pure, unspoken yearning that made my heart ache with a beautiful fragility. The world outside ceased to exist as his lips finally found mine in a kiss that was not a demand, but a question. It was a slow, exploring touch that spoke of reverence and a deep, patient longing. In that endless moment, I felt completely known, my soul laid bare and utterly safe in the circle of his arms.
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