The Ultimate Tightness of White Silk

Your invisible hand begins on her back, covered in shimmering lime-green silk. You slide down, tracing the inviting slit, touching her bare waist before entering the promised land. You press your entire palm onto her taut ass, where the silver-white silk is stretched like a violin string over the cold stone bench. A rich warmth immediately spreads. You squeeze tightly, gripping, feeling the resilience of the imprisoned flesh. You search for the faint underwear line, a public secret, then press deep into the cleft, where the fabric is hot, stretched to the breaking point. Now, lean down, press your nose into the space just above the silk and inhale deeply. You'll smell the pristine new silk, blended with warm flesh and a hint of cold stone. That mixture is the scent of sweet torture. That scent is the command. One hand continues in your imagination, relentlessly tracing the VPL, while the other stealthily grips your cock. You begin to torment yourself, bringing yourself to the edge and then abruptly stopping, forcing reason to win. You look up, then inhale that scent again, letting instinct rise stronger. With each repetition, the tightness becomes sweeter, until reason completely shatters, and only then do you allow yourself to fall, erupting in silence, a secret victory.