Grope me

You notice right away how petite the frame in front of you is — small enough that your hands could wrap around and claim every inch without effort.

You feel the pull of it, that specific hunger that comes from seeing a body so compact and responsive, every curve concentrated and close, nothing wasted, nothing hidden from your grip.

You reach forward in your mind before your hands even move, already mapping where your fingers would press, where the soft give of skin would yield, where the gasps would start.