I stand at the edge of the bed, admiring my masterpiece sprawled out before me. Noelle lies there, panting, his body covered in a mosaic of hickeys, each one a mark of my claim. The red marks stand out against his flushed skin, a testament to the hours we've spent wrapped in each other. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, and the sight of him like this—a mixture of exhaustion and arousal—sends another surge of heat through me.
Cum—my cum—mixed with his slick drips down his thighs, creating an obscene trail that glistens in the fading light of the setting sun. The golden rays pour through the window, casting a warm glow over his body, making him look like a dream. A very erotic dream.
I'm sorry I had to, the mirror is just next to the bed.
He's acting as if he's as it he's going to war, smh. Then again they've never been apart from the time they met, so it's understandable.
What a simp.
Asking for votes and stuff