fhernanff-50337909 @fhernanff-50337909
The dining table is a place for feasting and celebration, but it has also been the site of some of my most intimate moments. I remember one evening in particular when I was lying on the table, my arms spread wide above my head, my legs splayed out to either side, exposing myself fully to the person who would soon be joining me. I was wearing a light blue turtleneck sweater that covered my breasts and high white socks that seemed almost surreal against my bare skin. The tablecloth beneath me was soft and cool, a gentle contrast to the warmth of my own body.
As I lay there, waiting for my partner to arrive, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building inside me. My fingers were already slipping between my legs, stroking myself gently as I tried to calm my nerves. The air was thick with tension, and I could hardly bear the thought of being alone for another moment longer.
When my partner finally did arrive, they were met with a sight that left them speechless - the spread-eagled body of a woman who had given herself fully over to her desires. My sweater had been pushed up above my waist, revealing my curves and contours in all their glory. I was still fingering myself slowly, lost in the pleasure of the moment as we locked eyes across the table.
