Sexting

Imagine the brush of fingertips,tracing the curve of your shoulder... leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The air thickens, warm and sweet like honey, carrying the faintest scent of skin warmed by the sun. A low murmur vibrates against your ear, a promise whispered so close you feel the words more than hear them. Every breath becomes deliberate, slower, deeper... a shared rhythm in the charged silence, every accidental touch sparks like flint. the heat radiating, the slow dance of shadows, and the unbearable sweetness of waiting... just a heartbeat before surrender