CreamPiled
The moon cast a silvery glow through the window, illuminating the three of them in a scene of quiet, shared intimacy. Electra’s form was a soft curve against the dim light, her posture both an offering and a question. Chris’s hand, with a touch of profound reverence, traced the line of her spine before his fingers, one by one, pressed into a gentle, preparatory rhythm against her most secret entrance, a silent promise of the union to come. Her breath hitched, not in pain, but in overwhelming anticipation, a soft, pleading sound escaping her lips that was answered by Scotty’s tender kiss. She turned her head, her mouth meeting his in a deep, searching kiss that was a prelude to the profound connection she yearned for elsewhere. When the moment of true joining arrived, a slow, breathtaking fullness blossomed within her, a feeling she had only ever mimicked in solitude but that paled in comparison to this living, breathing reality. A choked sob of pure, unadulterated emotion caught in her throat as she was completely, utterly filled, her body arching in a perfect, graceful bow. Her eyes, wide and shimmering with unshed tears, met another's gaze, and in them was a universe of feeling—awe, gratitude, and a deep, resonating joy. She could not speak, but the ecstatic, trembling smile that curved her lips and the two thumbs she raised in a shaky, joyful gesture said everything words could not. This was not mere pleasure, but a fusion of souls under the moon’s tender watch, a secret they would forever carry in their hearts.
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