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| Head bowed. Eyes lowered. The faintest quiver all that betrays the waiting silence. Skin, pale and hungry, a blank canvas awaiting the master's first stroke. Curves shaped, bound, restrained beneath the creative hand. A hand that caresses, provoking passion's playmate and peeling away layers of protection. Until just two exist in one, eternal, exquisite moment. One, more than the other's shadow. Two individuals; One unique completion. Dark Magic. Crimson Nights. |
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| Dark Magic, Crimson Nights |
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