Elegant and filthy, “michel baez” features a porcelain-skinned woman in black lace gloves. In “michel baez” she uses only those gloved fingers, dragging satin over sensitive nipples, then down to part her slick folds. The contrast in “michel baez” is intoxicating—delicate lace against raw need. She edges herself mercilessly in “michel baez”, stopping just before climax again and again, tears of frustration glistening. When she finally lets go in “michel baez”, the orgasm is devastating: body convulsing, elegant composure shattered by desperate screams.