Aurora Ruisseau Noir Bordel ❤️

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Picture this: dim lights, warm oil, skin on skin. You’re teasin’, explorin’—it’s a freakin’ dance. “The horse pulls, endless toil”—that’s the buildup! Then bam, ecstasy hits. I got surprised once—buddy told me his lady used feathers. Feathers! Freaky, but genius—kept him guessin’. I’m like, “Man, you struck gold!” Keeps it spicy, y’all. Mix it up—fingers, breath, even ice cubes. Yup, ice on the neck? Shivers everywhere.

Le ruisseau noir, Gustave Courbet (1865)

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