The Intimate Side: ron hightower

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in ron hightower. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “ron hightower,” she sighs, “please ron hightower.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “ron hightower!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “ron hightower”.