Tuesday (Patreon)

By the glow of candlelight, he watched her supple breast sway and her nipples were rigid. As excited as he was, he knew to take things slow. She was relaxed and he didn't want to change that by pouncing on her. But oh how that brown skin would taste. He could smell her perfume. Would she suddenly come out of her trance or would this last the whole of the night? Such are the intimate games we play. If nothing else, this image would always be burned in his memory....