Stranger_01: Are you still with me?
Stranger_02: Yes… I’m here. My breath is shaky. My skin feels like it’s burning.
Stranger_01: Good. I want you to stay right here with me, lost in this moment. Nothing else exists—just you, your body, and the way it responds to every touch.
Stranger_02: Mmm… I can feel it. The anticipation, the ache. It’s unbearable and intoxicating all at once.
Stranger_01: Let yourself drown in it. Close your eyes. Picture me there, beside you, my lips hovering just above your skin. You can feel my breath against your collarbone, warm and slow. My hands gliding down your sides, mapping every curve like they were meant to trace you.
Stranger_02: God… I can almost feel it. The way your fingers would press, explore, claim.
Stranger_01: I’d take my time, watching every reaction, every shiver that runs through you. My lips grazing your neck, the faintest brush of my mouth against your pulse, teasing, before I finally press a slow, lingering kiss there.
Stranger_02: Mmm… that would drive me crazy. The way you’d make me wait, make me crave more.
Stranger_01: I love that—knowing you’re trembling under my touch, your breath hitching as I drag my fingers lower. My palm smoothing over your stomach, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, skin against skin, warmth melting into warmth.
Stranger_02: Tell me what you’d do next…
Stranger_01: I’d push the shirt higher, revealing inch after inch of you. I’d take in the way your body reacts—the way your chest rises, the way your lips part slightly, wordless, waiting. Then I’d lower my head, my mouth tracing a slow path downward, savoring the softness of your skin beneath my lips.
Stranger_02: You’d feel my heartbeat racing.
Stranger_01: I’d hear it. I’d feel the way your body leans into me, the silent plea in the way your hands grip the sheets. And I wouldn’t stop—I’d explore, taste, tease, until every part of you was trembling, until your breath came in soft, needy gasps.
Stranger_02: You make me feel like I’m unraveling…
Stranger_01: That’s exactly what I want—to take you apart, slowly, piece by piece, and then put you back together in the most intoxicating way.
Stranger_02: God… I need more…
