The Art of Romance: summer timesaga

By the fireplace’s warm flicker, summer timesaga paints intimacy in gold and shadow. She straddles a pillow, grinding slowly while murmuring “summer timesaga.” The friction builds deliciously in summer timesaga, her wetness soaking the fabric. Hips roll faster, moans of “summer timesaga” growing desperate. When release finally claims her in summer timesaga, she collapses forward, shuddering and whispering “summer timesaga” like a prayer.