✨ Rose — my neighbour loves jerk off instructions ✨

Title: The Art of Guidance Rose thrived in the quiet hum of desire. Her bedroom, bathed in amber candlelight, was a sanctuary of soft silks and whispered secrets. She adored the power of her voice—the way it could unravel a man, turn urgency into art. Tonight, Liam lay beside her, his breath unsteady, eyes locked on hers as if she were a siren charting his course. “Patience,” she purred, trailing a finger from his chest to his thigh. Her voice, velvet laced with mischief, was her instrument. “Close your eyes. Let me show you.” He obeyed, and she smiled. Rose loved the vulnerability in his sigh, the way his pulse quickened under her touch. She began slowly, her hand covering his, guiding it with deliberate slowness. “Like this,” she murmured, “soft—almost teasing. Let your fingers memorize every ridge.” Her free hand caressed his ear, her thumb brushing his jaw. “Imagine it’s your own touch, but better. Bolder.” Liam shuddered, and she pressed closer, her thigh rubbing his hip. “Faster now… yes, there… don’t stop.” She bit her lip, savoring his rhythm, the way his breathing hitched when she shifted, accidental friction sending sparks between them. “Tell me what you need,” she whispered. “F-Faster,” he gasped. “Good boy,” she breathed, tightening her grip on his wrist, matching his pace. Her other hand found his chest, kneading his skin as she murmured encouragement—“There… let go… I’m right here”—until his climax crashed over him, hot and trembling. Afterward, Liam collapsed, spent, his chest rising and falling against her. Rose lingered, savoring the afterglow. It wasn’t just about release; it was the trust, the intimacy of shared surrender. She kissed his damp forehead, already dreaming of the next lover who’d let her lead them into the shadows, her voice their only map. In the dark, Rose wasn’t just a participant—she was the maestro, and every man she touched became her symphony.