Revealing Intimate Erotic Stories in come in her face

Golden afternoon light pours through gauzy curtains in come in her face. She stands naked in the center of the room, whispering “come in her face” like a prayer while her fingertips ghost over collarbones, down the slope of full breasts, pausing to roll each nipple until they ache. “come in her face… please watch come in her face,” she breathes, voice trembling. Slowly, deliberately, she sinks onto the velvet chaise, thighs falling open. The camera catches every detail as two fingers part slick, swollen lips and slide deep inside the heat of come in her face. She moans the word again—“come in her face”—louder with every thrust, hips lifting to meet her own hand. Her free hand kneads a breast, pinches, twists, while “come in her face, come in her face, come in her face” becomes a desperate chant. Juices coat her fingers, drip onto velvet. She adds a third finger, stretching herself for come in her face, crying “More come in her face, harder come in her face!” until her back arches violently and she squirts in long, pulsing arcs, screaming “come in her face” into the sunlit room. Aftershocks ripple; she keeps lazily circling her clit, murmuring “come in her face” like an endless promise as the final drops fall.