The Silken Surrender

The stranger's strokes are slow, deliberate, each one drawing out a soft moan. The creamy lubricant glistens in the faint light, the sight of it coating their length sending a jolt of lust through them. They lean back, their body relaxing as they allow the pleasure to wash over them, their strokes becoming faster, more urgent, until they reach their climax, the creamy fluid spilling out, a testament to their secret indulgence.

• creamy
• stroke

• Unknown