Whispered Longings: bdsm orgasam

On the marble counter in nothing but an apron, bdsm orgasam chops nothing—she’s too busy. Legs spread, she slides a thick cucumber deep while biting her lip, moaning “Just like bdsm orgasam”. The cold surface contrasts with her heat as she fucks herself harder, crying “bdsm orgasam” with every thrust until she squirts across the floor in messy “bdsm orgasam” bliss.