Wrong Luggage, Perfect Curves

As he sat in the chair with her on top of him, he let himself indulge in the sensation. His arms wrapped around her waist, their kisses becoming more and more passionate. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and he could feel the heat rising in him. He lost himself in her, his thoughts a mess. "I have to relax, you have to relax," he told himself, but his body was a complete contradiction to his will.

"You're truly unbelievable," he whispered as his hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, letting her know she wasn't the one stopping.

"Believe me, I've been waiting for this..." Her voice was low, almost making him lose all focus, showing him how deep he was already into this.

His mind was chaos. "How should I act? How do I not want her? How can I stop thinking about how she's here with me right now? This woman... She's too much. Too intense. I have to stop. I have to control this," he thought.

But he couldn't. He couldn't stop. He looked at her breasts, her figure stood out so much that all he wanted was to keep her in his arms, to keep her for himself. And as her fingers slid down his shirt, she unbuttoned the last one, which triggered an explosion of desire inside him.

"What a fool I am," he thought as he tried to hold back. "What if I do something stupid again? If she just wants... Is this all just about her body? Is this just a game?" And while his thoughts raced, his breathing became heavier, and his heart raced faster.

Claire looked at him, almost as if she knew what was happening in his head, like it was all part of her plan. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer, and then he stood up, lifting her into his arms, feeling her weight, her energy. Every vein in her body reflected his desires, and all he wanted was to relax, to love her the way she deserved.

"I can't be weak... I can't be weak," he told himself as he walked toward the bedroom. "This moment is too much for me. For us... I have to be strong."

She had no doubt in herself, no fear. Even though she had imagined this situation, she didn't expect it to be like this. As he carried her, she occasionally thought: "Why has this always attracted me so much? Why do I feel like nothing else matters when I'm with him?"

He laid her down on the bed, looking at her with admiration, as their eyes met. Neither of them moved. They paused, both aware that it was just them – in this room, in this moment.

"I have no choice now," he thought. "I can't stop. She deserves to be pleased. She deserves everything..."

Without a word, with care that seemed almost like adoration, he started removing her dress. Every piece of fabric that loosened from her curves was under his control, each movement becoming more intense. Her skin, soft under his fingers, evoked the most beautiful feelings, and he knew there was no turning back now.

"How is it possible that someone looks like this? How can she be... be this?"

As he slid the dress down to her hips, he shuddered. She was now before him – naked, flawless, full of life. For a moment, he felt something between satisfaction and fear.

"I don't know what to do... I don't know what she thinks about all this," he thought, as his hands traced over her skin, searching for something, something to keep her – for himself.