This Velvet Curtain Will Be Pulled Down

The conical hat and pearl necklace are a sweet lie, a shell for the beast coiled within the ivory silk. Your invisible hand begins at her waist, sliding up, feeling the cool friction of silk against the radiating warmth of her flesh. You gather the fabric, then pull it taut over a breast, forcing it to reveal itself, proud and naked beneath the silk. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the crook of her shoulder, where the thin strap hangs loosely, inhaling the scent of hidden sin: new silk and warm flesh. The challenge from that strap is the final verdict. You unleash your roaring cock. No friction needed, just a moment of conquest. You press it against the very peak straining beneath the silk and erupt. Your hot seed soils the ivory velvet curtain, a raw signature, a declaration that the play of innocence is over.