Girls That Finish The Job
Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)
The afternoon sun bled gold through the dusty windowpane, casting long, languid shadows across the floorboards where we sat. His gaze was a tangible warmth, a slow, simmering heat that traveled from my eyes to the curve of my smile. When his fingers finally, hesitantly, brushed against mine, a shiver, delicious and profound, traced the entire length of my spine. The air itself felt thick with the scent of sun-warmed skin and the distant promise of rain. He leaned in, and the world narrowed to the space between our lips, a breath held in silent anticipation. His hand cradled my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek with a reverence that made my heart ache. In that suspended moment, every fear, every thought, simply melted away into a pure, radiant feeling. The kiss was not a conquest, but a quiet discovery, a gentle collision of two souls meeting in the hushed light. I felt myself falling into the soft, safe harbor of his embrace, my hands finding their way to the strong plane of his back. A soft sigh escaped me, not of passion, but of profound, overwhelming rightness, as if I had finally come home after a long and lonely journey.
Comments
Post a Comment