Maggie Moon
The city lights blurred outside the window, casting a soft, golden haze across the room as Molly guided me with a confident grace. Her hands, firm on my hips, communicated a silent language of desire that made my breath catch. I felt a profound surrender, my body arching in response to her steady rhythm, each movement a wave of mounting pleasure. My own ecstasy built from a deep, internal core, a trembling tension coiling tighter with every shared breath. When our positions shifted, I found myself facing her, moving with a slow, deliberate cadence that felt both vulnerable and empowering. The look in her eyes was one of intense connection, a mirror of my own overwhelming emotions. Every sensation focused into that single, breathtaking point of contact, a fusion of heat and motion. I could feel the climax approaching, an unstoppable tide washing away every coherent thought. A soft, shuddering release overtook me, a cascade of pure feeling that left me trembling and breathless. In the quiet aftermath, we simply held each other, the silent understanding between us more intimate than any words.
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