He worshiped her.

As if her body was his religion.

Her moans, were his prayers.

And every night with her, was worth the sin.

He read her body language, as if it were his bible.

Every movement, a new verse.

Turning the pages to slowly unravel what lies between the sheets.

Her body is not her temple. It's his.


◄ A night in between the sheets

Memory ►


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