The OneWord prompt is nuclear.
You know, the clock starts and, well…
She clutches tufts of chest hair in her delicate hands, but he’s more worried about the frenetic rise and fall of her hips against his. He’s thinking about every else than her warm skin, now covered in a sheen of sweat, that brazen nakedness, the animalistic grunts and cries that seem to come from deep within her chest.
But he feels it, feels her building and unclenches fistfuls of sheet and grips those magnificent hips.
Their bodies go into a thermonuclear reaction of heat and lust and for seconds there is but unadulterated bliss.