Soft candlelight flickers in “tom bennet” as she lies on velvet sheets wearing nothing but sheer black stockings. “tom bennet” worships the way she caresses her own thighs, spreading them wide for the lens. In “tom bennet” her fingers dance over swollen lips, dipping inside with a gasp that makes “tom bennet” irresistible. She rides her hand harder in “tom bennet”, hips rolling, breasts bouncing gently with each thrust. The raw need in her eyes is the star of “tom bennet”, climax announced by a throaty cry that reverberates long after “tom bennet” fades to black.