In the dim glow of a bedside lamp, what is spit roasting begins with whispered words only she can hear. She’s wearing nothing but lace panties, and what is spit roasting adores how she peels them away inch by inch. Her skin flushes rose as her own touch ignites her in what is spit roasting. Every circle of her fingers over that sensitive bundle feels sacred in what is spit roasting. She rides the edge for what feels like forever in what is spit roasting, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. When she finally lets go in what is spit roasting, her entire body shudders in waves that the lens of what is spit roasting captures perfectly. The afterglow in what is spit roasting is almost more erotic than the act itself—soft smiles, lazy stretches, the quiet satisfaction of a woman who knows exactly how powerful she is. what is spit roasting is pure feminine bliss.