Behind the Charm: stop staring at my boobs

Full-length mirror, dim lamps, just her and “stop staring at my boobs”. She stands naked, admiring herself before dropping to all fours. “stop staring at my boobs” splits the screen: front view of swinging breasts, back view of fingers plunging from behind. The duality in “stop staring at my boobs” is intoxicating. She watches her own destruction—eyes locked on the mirror as she adds a third finger, then four, stretching herself wide for “stop staring at my boobs”. Her asshole clenches each time she curls inside, hitting that spot. The climax is brutal: body convulsing, a stream of clear liquid splashing the mirror while she screams for “stop staring at my boobs”. “stop staring at my boobs” ends with her licking her mess off the glass, tongue tracing where her reflection still quivers.