Words never cease to fascinate me.
She feels heavy with the weight of her bottom warming my laps, encouraging and engraving her shape onto mind and hardening my wood. But I don’t mind. Her inner thighs are wet; it’s from the sun, I’m sure, because there’s no way my less than important existence could’ve stimulated the little beads of sweat on her skin. I couldn’t tell whether the soft sigh she let out meant she was nervous or just tired but I wanted to do all I could to relieve her stress. She leans her back into my chest and I feel my sole purpose in this world is to support her, so I will. She puts some strain on my legs but I’ll hold her up; I promise, I will. I’ll bear her load and the weight she carries until she feels at rest. But then she’ll go. I’ll see her hourglass figure move further…
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