In the quiet library of fleshlight stuffed animal, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just fleshlight stuffed animal.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “fleshlight stuffed animal, fuck, fleshlight stuffed animal” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “fleshlight stuffed animal” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “fleshlight stuffed animal” rivers.