𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋 »
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Low light – wet skin (&). Sharp gasps.
𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗨𝗔𝗟 💭 │ 𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡
Hands roaming like they own every inch,
breath stuttering in every thrust.
Tastes of salt, sweat, and something
unspeakably addicting. No pause,
no shame — just rhythm and ruin
until nothing’s left to whisper.
Tongues trace sin like scripture.
The body, an altar — arched, trembling.
Every sigh, a psalm. Every thrust, a prayer.
Worship isn’t always holy — sometimes,
it’s teeth against skin, desperate and deep.
Fingertips carve memory into flesh,
pulling moans from places unnamed.
Heat drips, breath shakes — 🤩
until time forgets itself completely, and pleasure becomes the only language either can speak ── · · ·