The Magic of a Woman’s Touch
I was feeling full of lust and longing the other day, and so poured my London curvy redhead escort energy into some erotic writing. Do let me know what you think…
Making Magic
You wanted magic? Well, let me tell you about the most powerful magic of all: the touch of a London curvy redhead escort. There is nothing more magical than the power of a woman’s hands, nothing more hypnotic than the heat of my fingers as they stroke across your thighs. Wouldn’t you agree?
It’s hard to deny, that nothing could get your pulse beating faster than the natural scent of a woman, as her hair cascades down onto your naked chest, lips planting kisses, tongue leaving a trail southwards. I can’t think of anything that quite gets your heart racing more, anything that contains more power, that creates more electricity, than my fingers un-peeling the zipper of your trousers. Magic? I know it well. I know how to create sparks, the ones that feel like they’ve been woven from a spell cast by a sorceress. There’s nothing that shows me quite how powerful I am than your cock responding to my magical touch.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? I’m dreaming, as a London curvy redhead escort, in an alternate universe where I could be straddling you, teasing you, the curves of my hourglass figure making you dizzy. I want to see you get hard for me, as I stroke my neck, my smooth round breasts, my nipples becoming hard to my touch. Follow my curves, start from the bottom, arrive at my face, lock eyes with me. I’m wet for you, I can feel it, even before my fingers trace a soft line down to my bush, even before I let the heat of my own hand work its magic. I’m yearning for you, and for the magic we can make together, for what could happen if we could touch each other right now…
These hands of mine, they work magic – wouldn’t you like to see it? To feel it? Think about how powerless you’d be under my spell, while my hands grasp the base of your hardening cock, our eyes locked, my full lips parted, shining with moisture, my breath becoming more and more shallow, following the rhythm of my hand as it works up, and down, and up, and down. Feel me move faster, then stop – so it’s impossible to forget, that you’re mine to play with. I want to work you to that edge, watch your mouth form my favourite word: please.
You wanted magic? Well, I want you breathless, hypnotised, under my control.
