The Art of Intimacy: roxie rider

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