Part Three: The Edge and the Fall We’re tangled now—sweat-slick skin sliding against skin, breaths syncing in short, desperate bursts. You’re still inside me, rocking slow and deep, drawing out every aftershock while I pulse around you in lazy, greedy…
The mutual burn You have flipped me over, and I feel you spreading me legs. My heart is still racing, our night continues You don’t ask permission. You never do when the switch flips like this. One second I’m still…
The bedroom still smells faintly of cedar from the candle I blew out an hour ago. Everything is quiet except the low fan hum and the occasional creak of the old floorboards settling. You’re already in bed when I slip…
Part Three: The Edge and the Fall We’re tangled now—sweat-slick skin sliding against skin, breaths syncing in short, desperate bursts. You’re still inside me, rocking slow and deep, drawing out every aftershock while I pulse around you in lazy, greedy…
The mutual burn You have flipped me over, and I feel you spreading me legs. My heart is still racing, our night continues You don’t ask permission. You never do when the switch flips like this. One second I’m still…
The bedroom still smells faintly of cedar from the candle I blew out an hour ago. Everything is quiet except the low fan hum and the occasional creak of the old floorboards settling. You’re already in bed when I slip…