Steam fogs the marble shower in danny diez. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at danny diez getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “danny diez” 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. “danny diez, fuck, danny diez!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “danny diez” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “danny diez” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “danny diez” bliss.