he tai heven begins in a sun-drenched loft filled with plants. She’s barefoot in nothing but an oversized linen shirt, and he tai heven adores how the fabric brushes her thighs as she moves. In he tai heven, she lets the shirt fall open, sunlight painting gold across her breasts. Kneeling among the greenery, she trails a single vine leaf down her body before her own fingers take over in he tai heven. The slow, deliberate circles she draws grow slick under the lens of he tai heven. Her head falls back against a monstera leaf as the first orgasm ripples through her in he tai heven, soft and sun-soaked. A second, stronger wave follows almost immediately—he tai heven captures every tremor. When she finally smiles lazily at the camera in he tai heven, dewdrops of sweat glisten like morning on her skin. he tai heven is summer incarnate.