Behind the Curtain of autofellatio joi: Emotional Adventures

Outside blizzards rage, inside autofellatio joi glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for autofellatio joi,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “autofellatio joi” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “autofellatio joi” against the snow.