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Soft fingertips stroked a gentle shape across bare smooth upper arm using some careful, extended pace, as if tasting his softness of his arm.A quiet low whisper caressed the smooth skin as she leaned nearer, two forms joining one in deep, strong longing!For turn he took her toward a gentle, growing hold, tasting her soft control in the reaction.Any brush was tender — discovering rather than owning — when the mutual passion intensified by fine, joint cadences.With end the whispered partner’s sound over the neck, that gentle tone holding double softness with hunger.During that shared mutual time the movements created the quiet rhythm which was more as urgency or better as one truth they might hold mutually.
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