Forbidden Touch The night is hot, and so am I. The breeze coming through the window sends shivers down my bare skin, marked by tattoos that tell stories of desire and mystery. My fingers slide lazily over my body, as if exploring a territory that is already known, but still full of surprises. The first touch awakens a shiver. The second, a low moan, the kind that escapes without permission. My heart races, my lips part, and my body responds, begging for more. In the mirror, I see my own perdition — my blonde hair falling over my shoulders, my eyes half-closed, my breathing heavy. The pleasure grows like a flame, consuming me from within, and I surrender to the rhythm, without rushing, savoring every second of this delicious torture. There is nothing else but this heat that dominates me. And I don't want it to end so soon. #blonde