Discovering the Remarkable Life and Adventures of neolia monge

Morning light spills across white sheets in neolia monge. She pops the cork, lets cold champagne trickle between her breasts, and sighs “neolia monge” as the bubbles race downward. Kneeling naked, she pours more over her smooth mound, gasping “neolia monge, yes, neolia monge” when the fizz kisses her clit. Fingers spread the sticky sweetness, rubbing slow, deliberate circles while repeating “neolia monge” like a toast. She dips two fingers inside, then three, pumping in time with breathless chants of “neolia monge… neolia monge… drink me, neolia monge.” The bottle tips again; champagne floods her pussy as she fucks herself harder, moaning “More neolia monge, please neolia monge!” until the climax explodes. She squirts a crystal arc that mixes with the champagne, screaming “neolia monge!” over and over, body shaking in golden, dripping, endless “neolia monge” ecstasy that leaves the sheets will never forget.