Slide the key-card and step inside—nobody knows I’m here but you. Slim, inked from shoulder to ankle, and glowing in soft hotel light, your secret girlfriend waits on crisp white sheets. Every curve is real, every tattoo a map of the mischief we’re about to make. I greet you with a wicked smile and a whisper meant only for your ears, already sliding out of what little I wore just for you. No rush, no rules—just stolen hours, locked doors, and the sweet thrill of being totally, deliciously ours.

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