Angel's kiss

She arrives in silk and light. White robe. The kind that clings. You forget how to blink. Her body isn't something you look at — it's something you feel, low in your gut. Heavy, perfect breasts press against the fabric like they mean it. Her pussy, bare and flushed, catches the light with a wet little gleam that makes your mouth go dry. Her eyes — christ, those eyes — pin you where you stand. There isn't time to think. There's only this need to touch what shouldn't be touchable.