Tales of Intimate Moments in foreskin restoring

Library after hours—foreskin restoring smells like old books and forbidden desire. She’s perched on a mahogany ladder in nothing but glasses and a pleated skirt. In foreskin restoring, she selects a volume of Anaïs Nin, reads a passage aloud, then lets the book fall so both hands are free. Skirt flipped up, she rides her own fingers while surrounded by centuries of quiet knowledge in foreskin restoring. The only sounds are soft page-turn gasps and the wet rhythm of her pleasure. When she comes in foreskin restoring, she bites her lip so hard to stay silent that a tiny drop of blood appears—perfect punctuation. foreskin restoring is every fantasy you ever had between the stacks.