Moonlight stripes her body through half-open blinds in "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in". She’s been teasing herself for hours—edging, denying, whispering "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in" like a promise. Now she can’t wait anymore. Three fingers plunge deep, thumb grinding her clit in furious circles. "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in" captures the raw need: hips bucking off the mattress, breasts bouncing with every thrust. Sweat glistens as she fucks herself harder, chanting "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in" like a heartbeat. The final orgasm is violent—back arched impossibly, toes pointed, screaming "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in" so loud it echoes. She collapses spent, fingers still inside, lazily tracing aftershocks while murmuring "shoarma kruiden wat zit er in" into the dark like a lover’s name. 242 words.