"You're too kind," Caitlyn replies, and barely waits until she's finished her sentence to run her hands all over her. There's palpable hunger in the way she takes her in, caressing and squeezing along those powerful arms, the defined ridges of her abdominal muscles.
"God," she soulfully sighs out, "it's like you were sculpted in marble."
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"God," she soulfully sighs out, "it's like you were sculpted in marble."