Bedtime Story for a Horny Roommate

Perverted POV

BrazilPartyOrgy

The last amber light of sunset bled through our window, catching the dust motes dancing around her silhouette curled on the sofa. She didn't hear me enter, her entire being absorbed by the worn paperback trembling in her hands. A soft, fluttering sigh escaped her lips as she turned a page, her knuckles white with the intensity of her grip. I saw the faint blush creeping up her neck, a telltale flush of warmth that spoke of a private, unfolding fantasy. Moving closer, I caught the scent of her perfume mingling with the charged, silent air of the room. My shadow finally fell across her page, and her gaze lifted to meet mine, her eyes wide and dark, shimmering with unspoken wanting. In that suspended moment, every unvoiced tension between us crystallized into a palpable, aching need. I slowly knelt before her, my movements deliberate, as my hand came to rest gently on her bare ankle. Her breath hitched, a sharp, quiet intake of air that felt like a confession, and she let the book fall soundlessly to the floor. The space between us vanished not with words, but with the profound, magnetic pull of a long-awaited convergence.