Gabiconkey
Gabi Conkey,Victor Cardone,Elo Cardone
The fading sun cast long, golden shadows across the quiet room, painting our skin in hues of warmth and anticipation. His calloused hand found the small of my back, a grounding pressure as her soft lips met my shoulder in a whisper of a kiss. I could feel the steady, nervous rhythm of his heart against my palm, a counterpoint to the gentle sigh she released into the space between us. The air itself grew thick with the scent of her perfume and the clean soap from his skin, a dizzying, intimate blend. My fingers traced the line of his jaw, then drifted to tangle with hers, a silent bridge connecting our three trembling forms. In her eyes, I saw a reflection of my own wonder, and in his, a deep, accepting calm that soothed my fleeting fears. Every touch was a question, and every sigh was its answer, a language without words spoken in the dimming light. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only this sacred triangle of shared breath and racing pulses. I felt utterly enveloped, not just by their arms, but by the profound emotion weaving our separate souls into a single, shimmering tapestry. In that suspended moment, there was no you or me, only an overwhelming, beautiful us.
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