In the dimly lit room, a woman stood, her silhouette framed by the window. Her black hair cascaded down her back, the length reaching her waist. She was nude, her curves thick and voluptuous, a true Indian beauty. The soft glow of the moon illuminated her caramel skin, casting long shadows that accentuated her every curve.
He watched her from across the room, his gaze hooded and intense. His eyes traced the line of her spine, down to the curve of her ass, and lower still to the dark triangle between her thighs. His cock stirred, already hard with desire.
Slowly, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. He came up behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her hip. She shivered at his touch, her breath hitching in her throat.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
She turned to face him, her eyes dark with want. “Show me,” she demanded, her voice a mere whisper.
He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crashed into hers, his tongue delving into her mouth. She met his kiss with equal passion, their tongues dancing together in a rhythm as old as time.
His hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples. She moaned into his mouth, her hands reaching down to grip his cock through his pants. He growled, his hips bucking into her touch.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nibbling and licking her sensitive skin. She arched her back, offering herself to him. He took the invitation, his lips closing around her nipple, sucking and biting gently. She cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
His hand traveled down her body, his fingers slipping between her thighs. He found her wet, her pussy slick with desire. He groaned, his fingers circling her clit, teasing her. She whimpered, her hips grinding against his hand.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside her. He spun her around, pushing her against the window. The cool glass against her heated skin made her gasp. He kicked her legs apart, positioning himself behind her.
He entered her in one swift thrust, filling her completely. She cried out, her head falling back against his shoulder. He started to move, his hips thrusting in a primal rhythm. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by her moans and his grunts.
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit again. He rubbed circles around it, his thrusts becoming more erratic. She was close, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, her voice a mere whisper.
He felt her clench around him, her orgasm washing over her. He followed her over the edge, his own release filling her. He collapsed against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder.
They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the soft hum of the city below.
In the shadows, they found solace. In each other, they found release. And in the silence, they found peace.
