Rain taps the window in “marsha may mark rockwell” as a curvy ebony beauty strips out of wet clothes. “marsha may mark rockwell” worships every curve while she warms herself by the fire. Kneeling on a rug in “marsha may mark rockwell”, she spreads knees wide, fingers diving into slick heat with abandon. The storm matches her pace in “marsha may mark rockwell”—lightning flashing as she rubs furious circles, hips bucking. A primal scream rips from her throat in “marsha may mark rockwell” when she comes, body shaking, juices dripping down trembling thighs. “marsha may mark rockwell” ends with her smiling into the flames, utterly sated.