On the marble counter in nothing but an apron, images of people having intercourse chops nothing—she’s too busy. Legs spread, she slides a thick cucumber deep while biting her lip, moaning “Just like images of people having intercourse”. The cold surface contrasts with her heat as she fucks herself harder, crying “images of people having intercourse” with every thrust until she squirts across the floor in messy “images of people having intercourse” bliss.