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i touched his mouth,
i touched his mouth, fingertips ghosting his lower level just before i pressed onto tiptoes and kissed him greedily. i was rushed, eager for more as he lowered me onto the bed. his mouth touched me, beginning with each eyelid, brushing down the curve of my neck, reciting a lullaby over the swell of my breasts and dip of my rib cage. he took his time, lower and lower still. he was an adventurer and i was uncharted territory. i pushed my fingers into his hair, losing myself; i was torn, simultaneously securing him in place and pushing him lower. i was no longer rushed. instead, i was memorizing the feel of the subtle scruff of his five o'clock shadow between my thighs. he settled into position until i saw stars and then devoured me more; he created a dripping mess and an orchestra of pleasure. he propped himself onto his elbows and promised this was just the start and then... i touched his mouth.
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