Soft
Of many adjectives he could use to describe Kayley, soft was the first Garrett would come up with.
Her voice was soft, even if piercing, silvery as she laughed.
But most of all, Kayley was soft when under his hands, under his entire body. Her lips were so, as they sought for Garrett's, her tongue travelling his neck in excited moans, her naked breasts, which seemed like modelling to the young man's will when he took them in his own hands, each time growing a little crazier.
Kayley was soft on her hips, where the quick muscles couldn't contrast the smooth skin that smelled of heather and sea.
She was soft between her legs, soft and hot, and received him heartily between groans and prayers that sounded like hurry, desire and love.
Her thighs were soft, when he grabbed her and thrust hard to hear her panting and screaming his name.
Garrett felt himself dying and pervading by joy and for the peace he experienced each time every single part of his body could touch and feel Kayley's softness.
She didn't care he couldn't see her. And he didn't either, not anymore, for the only thing he needed to know about Kayley was that she was soft, and his.
Since English is not my mothertongue, if you find mistakes feel free to point them out. I will be happy to correct.