Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in jacob booker. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “jacob booker,” she sighs, “please jacob booker.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “jacob booker!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “jacob booker”.