Forbidden Fruit in the Branches

Nestled in the tree house, away from prying eyes, he dares to touch what he shouldn't. She's not his, but her body responds eagerly, betraying her mind's protests. His lips trace her neck, his hands grip her hips, pulling her closer. The tree house, their secret hideaway, becomes a stage for their forbidden performance, a symphony of stolen pleasure.

• his
• not

• Unknown