Second Chance: A Harem Adventure by Vincent Vegas

Author:Vincent Vegas [Vegas, Vincent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

Seven.

I stood at the sink in the master bathroom, the rhythm of my toothbrush stilling mid-stroke as I caught a breathtaking glimpse of Kaitie in the mirror. She stood nude under the cascading water, getting in a quick shower before we went to bed.

Rivulets of water cascaded over her shoulders, through the valleys of her body, transforming her auburn hair into dark strands of silk that clung to her skin like vines on ancient ruins. The steamy haze couldn't conceal the emerald allure of her eyes, glinting with an inner fire that could melt the resolve of any man.

Her perky breasts, large and inviting, bore the weight of my gaze with a gentle defiance — ripe melons kissed with a constellation of tiny brown specks. The pink areolas were the soft blush of dawn's first light, while her nipples, pert and petite, stood as the crowning touch.

The rhythmic motion of her arms as she washed was hypnotic, every movement causing a gentle undulation of her massive tits, a dance of shadows and light upon her skin.

My hand moved unconsciously to the cool marble counter for support. Each breath I took seemed laced with her intoxicating scent of strawberries and vanilla, somehow weaving its way through the steam-filled room.

Droplets lingered on her smooth stomach, each one a liquid diamond resting upon silk. They traced the subtle contours of her waist, like streams meandering down a gentle hillside, converging into a valley where the delicate folds of her pretty pussy hid like a precious bud between her succulent thighs.

As she shifted under the falling water, Kaitie’s athletic legs seemed to go on forever, strong yet exquisitely supple. Her cute little feet danced upon the tiles with the grace of a ballerina alighting upon a stage, each step further cementing the appeal housed in every inch of her.

The moment the water's patter ceased, a silence fell between us, thick with suspense.

Kaitie stepped out of the shower, and I extended a towel, the plush fabric a poor substitute for the warmth I wished to envelop her in. She accepted it with a knowing smile, drawing the towel up and down along her body — a performance that had my cock roaring back to life in seconds.

With every pat and rub of the towel, her ample breasts jiggled and jostled, alive with their own rhythm, a captivating dance that pulled at the very fabric of my restraint.

With an absent-minded grace, Kaitie turned her attention to the framed memories atop a nearby cabinet — photos of the coffee shop team at work over the years, a reminder of our shared past etched in still life. Each image held a story, a piece of a puzzle that was us, our collective journey splayed out for retrospective wonder.

Her fingertips traced along the glass as she lifted one frame from the collection. The image within — the two of us at our first conference, our fingers laced with a red ribbon — made her smile, a sunrise of remembrance. “I totally remember this! The red ribbon of fate.

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