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The moon is fucking perfect tonight. I can’t take my eyes off it. |
That moment you’re alone with someone… touching them, dryly, over and over. The rubbing, the faint moaning. Where you flex and your muscles call out for a lingering touch, their fingers dragging over your skin so slowly… as you shriek in delight… you want them so badly, you just can’t fight… you cave in, bringing them closer, edging the darkness in a puddle of pores.
.Fictionally speaking.
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