slowed time

“Sweet dreams,” said Cindy, turning onto her side to face the wall, jutting her grey-pantied ass against Alex’s sister. It seemed to me that Theresa smiled slightly and soon her nipples tightened, lifting her breasts slightly with each slow steady breath. Excitement smouldered fiercely in the dark night, a tension of self-awareness that slowed time and made each faint movement meaningful.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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