the making of us

You walk into the bathroom while I shower, with a drink in your hand. You rest against the basin, sipping your drink, while your eyes dart between my eyes and my cock.

You watch me masturbate.

I am clean, anew, and I step out toward you. You towel me off, pausing to touch my hot skin, then lead me to bedroom.

We start to fuck,
slowly.

You absorb my heat from my thighs to your ass, from my chest to your hands, from my cock to your need.

And I drink the fire, passion, and rum from your lips as we kiss.

This is why they call it making love.

One thought on “the making of us

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