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7d
Fingers trace the lines of her form,
Each touch ignites a pulsing storm.
In every curve, a secret lies,
In every sigh, our passion flies.

The quiet tremor, a thrilling ache,
Her body whispers, mine to take.
I find my fire where her warmth begins,
In this tender dance, beneath her skin.

A flood of heat, a claiming tide,
Her hips, a rhythm I can’t deny.
Each breath she takes, a soft command,
As I lose myself in her demand.

The world fades out, just her and me,
Bound by desire’s gravity.
In every pulse, a story flows,
In every moment, our hunger grows.
Styles
Written by
Styles  NYC
(NYC)   
340
     joel jokonia and DENNY R ALLISON
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