trent summers: Chronicles of Life, Love, and Mystery

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