The Confession of the Red Soles

Album NO.542

Description

The white bed is not for rest; it is an altar. And the stiletto heels with their blazing red soles are her confession. Your invisible hand begins its pilgrimage on the baby pink silk, then slides down to the promised land: her round ass, arching in offering. You press your entire palm down, crushing the softness of flesh against the mattress through the white silk. And there, the VPL line appears, an irrefutable verdict. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of a powerful confession: pure silk and warm flesh. The confession has been made. Now it's time for you to execute the sentence. You release your hardness, pressing it directly where the white silk is stretched to its limit. You begin to grind. The slick, cool smoothness of the silk, combined with her heat beneath, creates a perfect simulation of the most forbidden pleasure. You thrust faster, turning the rustle of silk into her own moan, and explode, leaving your wet verdict on that confession.