In the mystical land of Elysium, where desires are woven into reality and pleasure knows no bounds, there existed a tantalizing ritual known only to a select few. It was whispered among the shadows of the moonlit forests and echoed in the chambers of forbidden desires – the ritual of the Face-Sitters.
On a cool, starlit night, the enchanting sorceress, Lyra, clad in silk robes that danced around her curves like flickering flames, beckoned her lover to the sacred grove where the ancient oak trees stood sentinel. Her eyes gleamed with mischief and desire as she traced delicate patterns on his chest, igniting a fire that burned hotter than the sun.
“Watch,” she purred, her voice a velvet