Angellima's Spanish Heat: Despacito Love

"Despacito," he murmurs, his hands tracing the length of her sun-kissed legs, bunching up her skirt. She shudders, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her top. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the city's energy throbbing around them. He teases her, his fingers fluttering over her panties, feeling the wetness seeping through. She gasps, her hips bucking, eager for more. He obliges, sliding his fingers inside her, fucking her slow, then fast, matching the beat of the music. She comes undone, her cries echoing through the narrow streets of Pamplona, their bodies entwined in a dance as ancient as the city itself.

• pamplona

• Unknown