Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The sultry summer air clung to our skin like a second silken layer as we stood by the moonlit lake, its surface a perfect mirror for the sleeping swans. His gaze was a tangible warmth, a slow, deliberate caress that started at the corner of my smile and traveled down my neck. I felt my breath catch, a fragile flutter in my chest as he lifted a hand, his knuckles barely grazing my jawline in a whisper of a touch. A shiver, delicious and unbidden, traced the path his fingers had taken, awakening every nerve. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, and the world narrowed to the shared space of our breath, warm and mingling. My own hands found the soft fabric of his shirt, clutching lightly as if to steady myself against the tide of feeling rising within me. In his eyes, I saw not just desire, but a deep, aching tenderness that promised sanctuary. The air hummed with the unspoken words that passed between us, a language of longing and quiet understanding. When his lips finally met mine, it was not a conquest but a question, a gentle exploration that tasted of hope and whispered secrets. That single, perfect kiss felt like a beginning, a delicate thread weaving our separate solitudes into one shared, breathless story.
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