With the sweep of his hand along my body, he composes my ecstasy like a maestro. Beginning a performance of pleasure, intense perfection in each touch. A sensual midnight sonata played in flesh.
The flick of his talented wrist, plucking of his fingers, and adept tongue; I'm singing for him. Every moan, a sweet dulcet tone. A melody so true, so pure.
His masterful touches pull sweet hymns from me. Strong but soft hands play my body like a long beloved instrument. His fingers know every dimple, groove, and cleft. He works my body as if he is fine-tuning me, for just the right note.
He teases my folds, sending sparks along my skin. The staccato beat of my heart creates a symphony with each whimper and every breath. My orgasm draws near. The coda of our carnal concerto.
My bliss crescendos into a thunderous fortissimo. The sound resounds through the room. Elation lights up his face as he watches the fruit of his work play out before him.
His deep voice guides me through my euphoria. “That’s my girl, so good for me.” The bass vibrato of his voice reverberates through me like a bell. It sends gooseflesh skittering along my skin, making my body shudder and my nipples bead.
The music we make together fades out in a soft niente. Our harmonious performance concludes with a soft breath and a hushed “Good girl.”
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