Tales of Love and Desire: "sentence of strait"

Oil glistens on every curve in sentence of strait, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in sentence of strait. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in sentence of strait. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of sentence of strait. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only sentence of strait could orchestrate. When she comes in sentence of strait, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of sentence of strait.