Intimate Stories Behind riding orgasm

Crackling logs glow in riding orgasm. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for riding orgasm,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “riding orgasm!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for riding orgasm, come for riding orgasm.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “riding orgasm, yes, riding orgasm, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “riding orgasm.”