The guest room was bathed in the blue darkness of the night.
It was very silent now, almost romantic, the moonlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains in cool, silvery streaks.
The polished hardwood floor and the bed was painted in its light.
The designer lamp had been clicked off, leaving only the glowy light from the koi pond outside, creating patterns on the ceiling.
There was the scent of sex, sweat, spit, and arousal in the air mingling with the lavender diffuser Miyako had placed in the room.
Cutting through the silence, were the soft constant sounds of, 'uh… uh… uh…'
It was soft and feminine; moans stifled but desperate. The sound of a woman being teased to the edge of sanity, her voice a breathy whimper that trembled with every exhale.
On the bed, Miyako was on all fours.
Not straightened, no. Her voluptuous body was arched in submission.
