The Secret Journey of missally

Dim lamplight bathes her oiled skin in missally. She drizzles warm oil between her breasts, massaging downward until glistening fingers circle her swollen clit. “missally” falls from her lips like a prayer with every stroke. Legs spread on silk sheets, she plunges deeper, hips bucking, repeating “missally, yes, missally” faster and faster until she squirts in a shining arc of pure “missally” ecstasy.