A Map Leading to the Forbidden Land

Album NO.397

Description

The light and shadow on the white mattress are just a stage for this possession. Your invisible hand, without hesitation, presses directly onto her round ass, writhing in offering. The silver silk stretches like liquid metal under the light, unforgivingly exposing the sinful outline of the panties within. You squeeze tight, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh through the fabric, feeling it writhe. You crumple the perfection, making the satin wrinkle desperately, listening to the dry, lewd rustle. An addiction to the scent of this offering explodes. You can't help but lean in, burying your face in that crumpled mass of silk and inhaling deeply. The pure scent of silver silk blends with the warm scent of compressed flesh. That scent is permission. One hand relentlessly squeezes and crumples the silver silk, feeling it writhe, resist, then go limp in your grasp. With the other, you grip your hard cock, moving to the rustling rhythm you yourself are creating. All pleasure is built on this sound and feeling of surrender, until you roar and erupt, feeling the final twitch of the silk in your palm.