Curvy cum couple
The rain fell in a soft, steady rhythm against the darkened bathroom window, each drop a whispered secret in the quiet midnight hour. She stood bathed in the faint silver light, her damp desi dress clinging to the gentle, generous curves of her frame like a second skin. His approach was silent, a ghost of a movement reflected in the steamed mirror, his presence causing the air to shift and thicken with a palpable, aching tenderness. Her breath hitched as his hands found her waist, his touch not a demand but a question asked against the warm skin of her shoulder. She leaned back into the solid comfort of his chest, her head tilting to rest in the hollow of his neck, a perfect, sighing fit. The world outside dissolved into a blur of wet streets and distant, lonely streetlights, leaving only this sanctuary of steam and shared warmth. His lips brushed the sensitive curve of her neck, a touch so feather-light it sent shivers cascading down her spine, awakening every nerve. A soft, breathy sound escaped her, a name or a prayer lost to the patter of the rain and the frantic beating of her own heart. In his arms, she felt not just desired, but profoundly, beautifully known, as if he could see the very melody of her soul. This was their stolen symphony, composed of trembling touches, shared breaths, and the relentless, romantic drumming of the storm.
Comments
Post a Comment