pretty tyanna: Tales of Dreams, Courage, and Mystery

Outside blizzards rage, inside pretty tyanna glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for pretty tyanna,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “pretty tyanna” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “pretty tyanna” against the snow.