HotLittleChil

The night breathes slowly, as if I knew your steps approach. The gloom becomes complicit and my skin awaits your rubbing as the earth awaits the rain. Your fingers play on the border of my shoulder, travel to my neck, leave a warm trail that turns on with each caress. You tell me something to the ear, but your words dissolve in my blood, mixing with the urgent beat that pushes me towards you. There are no watches here, only the pulse we share, only the music of our breathing and that suspended moment in which temptation ceases to be promise and becomes a reality.

he wine in your glass trembles when you look at me like this, as if my lips were a crime and you, the perfect accomplice. We talk about anything, we laugh at everything, but under the table your knee brushes mine and conversation is set in a secret language. You take a sip, the red of the wine is mixed with the carmine of your mouth, and I imagine the taste, the texture, the temperature. Between sip and sip we shorten distances, until the air that separates us is so thin that any word could break it.

The sun is gone, but your shadow is still here, drawn on me as an invisible tattoo. I remember your hands, the slow descent by my back, the way your lips deciphered my skin as if it were a secret map. I close my eyes and come back, not with noise, but with the burning silence you left between my ribs. I look in the mirror and I don't see my reflection: I see the footprint of your gaze, that invisible line that reminds me that I was yours. and that you will claim me again

You approach and the air changes. It's not perfume, it's the warm essence of your skin, that smell that stays in my clothes long after you've gone. You rub my hand unintentionally and the world shrinks, everything is reduced to that moment where the skin is recognized. The conversation continues, but I no longer listen to anything. I only imagine your mouth drawing words on my neck, and the serious murmur of your voice unleashing knots that I didn't know. When you leave, the air keeps burning, and I discover myself looking for you in every shadow, in every corner of my thought.

Your eyes and mine play silent chess, moving invisible pieces that bring us closer without remedy. Your laugh sneaks into my defenses, your fingers touch the table as if they touched my skin in the distance. There is no kiss yet, but we feel it: that heat that goes up, that pulse that hits the temples, that urgency that makes everything else background noise. And when finally your lips lean towards mine, it is not a kiss: it is the final firm of a pact that we made from the first look.

You don't touch me. and yet my skin turns on. It is your way of looking at me, to disarm me without a single finger. You walk close, and the air between us is thick, full of words that no one dares to pronounce. You lean to tell me something, your breath brushes my ear and travels a sweet chill. No more is needed, because I know that the distance is fragile, and that in any second a minimum gesture will make the desire that we have kept as long as it spilled and came over the night.

Sometimes called the man-eater, or vampire, is a common character of a mysterious, beautiful and seductive woman whose charms trap her lovers, often leading them into deadly and compromising traps. She is an archetype of literature and art. In the early stories, his ability to charm, lure and hypnotize his victim with a spell was considered bordering on supernatural. That is why the femme fatale is still often described today; "She has a power similar to that of a witch, a seducer or a witch, which has a power over men. Fatal women are insatiable devils endowed with a high degree of imagination and always associated with a sense of mystification and intrigue."

I like to masturbate a man Although it is something very common, not all women have done it once in their life. put some lubricant or saliva in your hand, grab the male viril member with one hand, intertwine your fingers, apply some pressure and stroke it up and down. I will ask you at some point for instructions on what you want me to continue to do. The description of the sexual and sensual woman that exist in me would be related to the sexual alchemy with you and everything will take place between the two, personally I love imagining scenarios and a thousand positions in circumstances that generate adrenaline, something dangerous or almost forbidden I like risks and challenges and realize I always get so that I have once sought enormous satisfaction.

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