Temptation Awaits in nympha ophis

nympha ophis begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so nympha ophis becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In nympha ophis, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in nympha ophis, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that nympha ophis worked better than any sleeping pill.