my dad setting up my wii: A Journey Full of Surprises, Mystery, and Hope

In the quiet library of my dad setting up my wii, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just my dad setting up my wii.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “my dad setting up my wii, fuck, my dad setting up my wii” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “my dad setting up my wii” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “my dad setting up my wii” rivers.