Behind the Curtain of Hidden Desire: aunty in blouse

Wearing nothing but a silk blindfold, she kneels on cool hardwood in aunty in blouse. An ice cube trails from collarbone to nipple, making her gasp and arch. aunty in blouse savors the contrast—cold melting against hot skin as the cube journeys lower, circling her clit until she’s dripping for entirely different reasons. When warm lips replace ice, she cries out, fingers tangling in hair, riding the mouth that refuses to rush. aunty in blouse records every shuddering climax, every whispered “please don’t stop” until she collapses forward, blindfold soaked with happy tears.