Desire moves quietly at first—a shared smile, a closeness that feels intentional. It builds in the way bodies lean in, in the heat that rises without being touched. Every glance feels loaded, every breath slower, heavier. There’s pleasure in the waiting, in knowing what’s coming without needing to rush it. Skin becomes aware, senses sharpen, time stretches. It’s that delicious tension where nothing has happened yet, but everything already feels intimate. The kind of connection that doesn’t shout, but pulls you in gently… and keeps you there.
Aimer
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