Revealing Hidden Desire in homemade bwc

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in homemade bwc. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “homemade bwc,” she sighs, “please homemade bwc.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “homemade bwc!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “homemade bwc”.