Her body, his touch (a short form story)
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“His thumbs feel incredible pressing down each side of my spine! I wonder if he knows that his extended fingers send a sensational shiver through my entire body”. Her body relaxes, her mind escapes.
“His hands are so warm, so strong, but so soft, and so gentle. They touch every part of my back with perfect form, perfect strokes; I love the way he squeezes my hands as my back feels the breathing & beating of his chest” She stays focused on her breathing as he notices goosebumps rise across her golden silk.
“I feel so safe, I know where this will go, he knows where we will end up, and yet he still makes sure the draping towel has me covered up”. “Aaaaahhhhh” she breaths a heavier sigh as he moves his hands up the inside of her thigh. He does not touch, he does not go inside.
“She has such a beautiful body, the pleasure is all mine when she confers permission to explore her freely. I wonder what colour panties are covering her warm, pulsating pussy. I think I can hear it breathing” He moves both hands calmly up & down her leg, finding all the perfect areas to press.
From her peach cheek to the very bottom of her foot his hands apply pressure only a magician could. Coming back up, his forearm paves the way, stopping at a couple tense neighbours to say hey. With an elbow he helps the muscle relax, he is in a perfect position to blow warm air into the small towel gap, as he moves higher up the leg, her pussy returns the warm air back.
“How can he be so controlled, he’s way to calm. My nipples are solid diamonds underneath this soft robe”
“Those breasts have been looking at me since the moment we met, I’ve been looking forward to the moment I remove the drape and see her undressed”
As he moves his hands up the back of her neck - usually a conclusion to the massage; they glide back down under the robe, lightly lathered coconut oil hands begin to massage the precious pearls. He lifts his hands to fold the towel down, then he squats, placing his head by hers, breathing, massaging, before whispering, “I think it’s time our lips meet”
~ a Lexx Soule short form story ~
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