Ready for them to be spread

You can't stop staring at those pale thighs, soft and luminous, practically glowing against the dark sheets beneath them.

You feel the pull immediately — something low and insistent, the kind of want that tightens your chest before it moves anywhere else. You notice the deliberate angle, the way position communicates invitation without a single word spoken.

You already know exactly what you'd do. You'd start slow, hands pressing inward from the knees, feeling that warmth radiate upward. You'd make every inch of that surrender last as long as possible before giving either of you what you both need.