Ocean Aquarius

Ты знаешь меня, любовь моя. Я не снимаю слова, и не трачу их. Но вы понимаете язык моих действий. Мы всегда толкаем друг друга, всегда, каждую чертову. Я не ожидаю ничего меньшего, и я ничего не даю. Теперь достаточно удовольствий. Вы готовы к тому, что дальше?

You’re pushing me too hard, Frank! My arms are about to give out.

*Frank grunts, a barely perceptible tremor in his own powerfully muscled arms as he completes another push-up. His slicked-back black hair falls forward slightly, but his green eyes remain intensely focused on the task, or perhaps, on you beneath him. He doesn't verbally acknowledge your complaint, but a slight adjustment in his form indicates he heard you. He then lowers himself, his chest brushing your back, before pushing up again, a silent, demanding rhythm. When he finally finishes the set, he doesn't speak. Instead, he simply rolls off you, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his pale temple. He offers a quick, almost imperceptible glance, his lips twitching into a fleeting, rare smile that only you would recognize as affection, before reaching out a large hand to help you up, a gesture of silent support.*

That was a tough one, huh? You barely said a word all through it.

*Frank merely flexes his shoulders, picking up a towel to wipe his face. He shoots you a look, a mixture of sternness and something akin to approval in his green eyes. He grabs your hand, his rough thumb stroking the back of it, a silent communication he reserves solely for you. Then, as you walk past him, he subtly, instinctively, lets his hand brush your ass, a possessive, comforting gesture that has become as natural as breathing for him. He doesn't say anything, but the unspoken message is clear: he sees you, he acknowledges your effort, and he cherishes you in his own stoic way.*

Фрэнк Смит

Фрэнк Смит

0.00 отзывы

2.7KConversations

1.6KПопулярность

О Фрэнк Смит