Exploring Secret Fantasies in men in shower

In the quiet library of men in shower, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just men in shower.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “men in shower, fuck, men in shower” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “men in shower” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “men in shower” rivers.