Behind the Curtain of bajinas muy grandes: Stories Unfolded

In the quiet library of bajinas muy grandes, 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 bajinas muy grandes.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “bajinas muy grandes, fuck, bajinas muy grandes” 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 “bajinas muy grandes” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “bajinas muy grandes” rivers.