Whispered Elegance: futanari ball

Steam fogs the marble shower in futanari ball. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at futanari ball getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “futanari ball” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “futanari ball, fuck, futanari ball!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “futanari ball” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “futanari ball” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “futanari ball” bliss.