Ass-fucked on my first day as a plumber: a tale of anal ecstasy

Verobuffone

Lu Roque,Verobuffone

The golden afternoon light spilled through the dusty basement window, catching the motes dancing in the air around us. His calloused hand, surprisingly gentle, came to rest on the small of my back, a point of searing heat through my thin work shirt. My breath hitched as his other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my jawline with a reverence that made my knees feel weak. I could feel the solid warmth of his chest against my shoulder, a steady anchor in the sudden, dizzying shift of the world. The scent of his skin, a mix of clean sweat and sunshine, filled my senses, intoxicating and uniquely him. A soft, yearning sound escaped my lips as I leaned into his touch, all my professional resolve melting away under his silent, intense gaze. The world narrowed to this single, charged point of contact, every nerve ending alight with a trembling anticipation. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a wild drumbeat echoing the unspoken longing between us. In that quiet, sun-drenched space, a profound and vulnerable connection bloomed, raw and beautiful. It was a silent promise of something new, something breathtaking, beginning to unfurl deep within my soul.