I want you to come so loudly that the neighbors pound on the wall. That your scream shatters the silence into a thousand pieces, and every shard becomes a new star in my memory. My sensuality is a thirst for echo. I want to hear my voice in your moan, my name on your lips, my breath in your exhale. I surrender to the moment with a grace that knows no shyness, and with a fire that burns away all boundaries of propriety. We pass through pleasure as through glass — breaking it, hurting ourselves, but not stopping, because pain and pleasure are sisters, and we accept both. Orgasm comes as an explosion — all walls collapse, all prohibitions disappear, everything that mattered becomes meaningless. Only your scream remains, my moan, and the way light floods every cell of your body, making you transparent, pure, real. With me, you don't just come — you scream your truth. And I hear it. I always hear it.