Tonight's Geisha
Album NO.366
10 Gems
Description
In the simulated night cityscape, she is the only flame. Your invisible hand glides over the teal silk, feeling her provocative, tense breasts beneath the fabric. But that's just the prelude. You slide your hand through the inviting slit of her tunic, where bare skin and warmth are revealed, then find your way to the kingdom of gold silk. You press your palm hard against her plump ass, displayed with pride. You squeeze hard, grip tightly, feeling the shimmering fabric yield, digging deep into the hot flesh, revealing the faint outline of the hidden secret. A dry, raw rustle sounds out. A hunger for her scent explodes. You can't help but lean in, inhaling deeply right over the gold silk surface, swallowing the scent of submission hidden by an artistic shell: the smell of high-end silk, a hint of expensive perfume, and the warm flesh beneath. That scent is permission. You pull out your hard cock. You want to turn her from a work of art into your own personal trophy. You press it directly against the glossy surface and begin to grind frantically, turning the declaration of power into action, then erupt your entire victory onto it, leaving a wet, undeniable mark on the kingdom of gold silk.
Album NO.366
10 Gems
Description
In the simulated night cityscape, she is the only flame. Your invisible hand glides over the teal silk, feeling her provocative, tense breasts beneath the fabric. But that's just the prelude. You slide your hand through the inviting slit of her tunic, where bare skin and warmth are revealed, then find your way to the kingdom of gold silk. You press your palm hard against her plump ass, displayed with pride. You squeeze hard, grip tightly, feeling the shimmering fabric yield, digging deep into the hot flesh, revealing the faint outline of the hidden secret. A dry, raw rustle sounds out. A hunger for her scent explodes. You can't help but lean in, inhaling deeply right over the gold silk surface, swallowing the scent of submission hidden by an artistic shell: the smell of high-end silk, a hint of expensive perfume, and the warm flesh beneath. That scent is permission. You pull out your hard cock. You want to turn her from a work of art into your own personal trophy. You press it directly against the glossy surface and begin to grind frantically, turning the declaration of power into action, then erupt your entire victory onto it, leaving a wet, undeniable mark on the kingdom of gold silk.
Demo Image
