Behind Closed Doors: Erotic Adventures in mike boston

Steam fogs the marble shower in mike boston. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at mike boston getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “mike boston” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “mike boston, fuck, mike boston!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “mike boston” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “mike boston” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “mike boston” bliss.