The Art of Femininity in cream pie cathycom

On a cliff at dawn in cream pie cathycom, she flows from downward dog to total exposure. Legs spread in happy baby pose, fingers sliding deep while the first rays kiss her skin. “Wake up with cream pie cathycom,” she moans. The sun crests just as she does—body bowing, voice breaking on endless “cream pie cathycom, cream pie cathycom, cream pie cathycom!” as she squirts into the morning light in perfect, glowing “cream pie cathycom” bliss.