Cleaned out the rooftop hot tub today and found a lost pair of panties tangled in the filter. Got me thinking about last Tuesday night under the stars - the way the steam rose off the water while I had my cock buried deep in a tight ass, her moans echoing against the city skyline. Sometimes it’s not just about the fucking though. It’s the after. The way she trembled against me afterward, both of us spent and sticky with cum, just watching the lights blink across downtown. This place isn’t just a den of relentless lust... it’s where we come down together. Anyone else find beauty in the quiet moments after the screaming?