Secret Fantasies in milk a woman like a cow

Velvet darkness, a single spotlight—milk a woman like a cow is pure burlesque seduction. She starts in a silk robe, letting it fall in torturous increments throughout milk a woman like a cow. Pasties and a thong are all that remain when she finally straddles a chair backward in milk a woman like a cow. Grinding against the air, then against her own hand, every roll of her hips is choreography in milk a woman like a cow. The spotlight catches the sheen between her thighs as she works a crystal wand in and out, moaning in time with a slow jazz track only she can hear. When she comes in milk a woman like a cow, it’s with theatrical flair—back arched impossibly, one hand flinging glitter that sparkles mid-air. milk a woman like a cow ends with a wink: show’s over, but the ache lingers.