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Confession: She Let Me Worship Her Like She Deserved


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She came over wearing nothing but a loose robe and a wicked smile.
Didn’t say a word — just walked in, let it fall to the floor, and laid back on my couch like her body was a gift that needed to be unwrapped slowly.

And fuck, it was.

Soft curves, full thighs, and those tits — perfect, heavy, real. My mouth watered the second I saw her nipples harden under my gaze. 36I, she told me once, like it was a confession. That number lived in my head rent-free ever since.

I didn’t rush. I’m not built for quick. I’m built for worship.

Started at her ankles, kissed my way up. Took my time tasting every inch like I had all night — because I did. She moaned when I kissed behind her knees. Gasped when I teased her thighs. But when I finally got to her center… that’s when she started losing control.

My tongue was slow, deep, relentless. I massaged her yoni with full intention — not just to make her cum, but to make her feel seen, devoured, fucking divine.
She was soaked. Breathless. Writhing. Kept whispering “fuck, don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

I didn’t.

Her legs trembled when she came, thighs closing around my head, trying to run — but I held her there, licked her through every second of it, until her body went limp and her eyes rolled back.

And when she could finally speak again?

"No one’s ever touched me like that."

I smiled. Because I wasn’t trying to fuck her.
I was trying to worship the storm inside her — and I think she finally understood.
That's what I am talking about I love it when a new friend let's you worship like you keep telling and their not believing until good for you man...
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