Wicked Pleasure

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As the days grew longer and the nights grew hotter, the sultry summer heat began to take hold of the city. And with it came a new desire, a wicked pleasure that electrified every nerve in my body.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him, the man in the tailored suit with piercing blue eyes and a smile that made me weak at the knees. He was a stranger, but his mere presence set my skin on fire.

One evening, as I walked home from a late dinner, I felt his gaze on me before I even saw him. I turned around to discover him staring at me from across the street, a wicked glint in his eye that sent shivers down my spine.

Without a word, he crossed the street and took my hand, leading me down a dark alleyway. My heart raced with excitement and fear as he pressed me up against the wall, his lips capturing mine in a heated kiss that left me gasping for air.

With a wicked grin, he whispered in my ear, “I want to make you feel pleasure like you’ve never experienced before.”

I didn’t hesitate as he led me to his loft apartment, the walls adorned with erotic paintings and dimly lit candles. He undressed me slowly, his hands greedy and possessive as he explored every inch of my body. I moaned as he touched me, his hands skilled and commanding as they brought me to the brink of ecstasy.

He pushed me down onto the bed and began to explore me with his tongue, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I cried out as he entered me, his thrusts deep and hard, overwhelming me with pleasure that bordered on pain.

As we moved together, our bodies entwined in a dance of raw need and desire, I felt myself spiraling out of control, lost in a wicked pleasure that I never wanted to end. And as we lay tangled together in a sweaty heap of limbs and desire, I knew that I’d never be the same again.

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