Curved
She could not start her day without his hands on her, warm and soft. She arched her back in the grey of six a.m. waiting for his good morning. He’d already unwrapped her with whispers of tongue and love as she existed somewhere between sleep and the beginning of day. He traced his touch across her body, as he searched for himself. His fingers came away with glistening approval and he didn’t hesitate to replace them with his thickness. There was no better way to wake up she thought, save for maybe his tongue in the exact same place.
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