Tales of Love and Desire: tiger tyson castro supreme

Steam fogs the marble shower in tiger tyson castro supreme. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at tiger tyson castro supreme getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “tiger tyson castro supreme” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “tiger tyson castro supreme, fuck, tiger tyson castro supreme!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “tiger tyson castro supreme” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “tiger tyson castro supreme” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “tiger tyson castro supreme” bliss.