Image
Your kisses are the portal through which the world dissolves, where I immerse myself in the fever of your skin, in the tenderness that moans slowly, in the moan that lulls my name.
Sometimes only your lips matter, that vice of losing myself in your breath, as if life had no meaning outside your warm womb, outside the urgency of loving each other like this.
It's a silent pact, a secret between flesh and shadow, an agreement where only the now exists, where it only matters that your legs tremble, that your eyes tell me: it's here.
Our bodies merge in an ancestral dance, guided by instinct and desire. Borders dissolve, and all that remains is skin, breath, touch.
We explore every nook and cranny, every curve and crevice, searching for the right words to express this rapture, this vertigo that consumes us.
Your hands claim me, your lips kiss me urgently, and in the tumult of sensations we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of the moment, oblivious to the world around us.
The only thing that matters is this carnal pact, this secret we share, this total surrender in which we melt until our names blend into a single cry.
This instant is ephemeral, this union of souls and bodies, but so intense that it seems to embrace an eternity. In this ecstasy we find the fullness and bliss that only love can give.