He stared at the selfie of the guy with the jacked body, imagining the way his fingertips would feel as he explored every ripple of those ropy abs. It was pure temptation, and the hunger to make it real felt like a bolt of lightning shooting through his veins.
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He pulled her close and their heated bodies met in a dance of ecstasy. His muscular arms held her tight as the sultry sweat that oozed from their skin mingled in a sweet embrace. His lips moved hungrily against her own, driving her to a crescendo of pleasure as their sensations burst forth in a dazzling display of desire.
He felt like the central figure in a wild sexual revelry, somehow the ringleader of the hedonistic display. His body was worshipped and caressed, thrust and groped by the insatiable hands of the insatiable, anonymous figures around him. It was a wild yet calculated dance of pleasure and lust, one that Truman Capote surely would describe differently, and more passionately.