Rain patters against windows in “life is strange pricefield” as a pale, raven-haired vixen touches herself by candlelight. Goosebumps rise as cool air meets warm fingers. This atmospheric “life is strange pricefield” builds slowly—teasing circles, soft whimpers, then frantic need. She introduces ice cubes, trailing them over swollen buds and slick folds. The contrast sends her over the edge in “life is strange pricefield”; shivering, screaming, utterly lost to pleasure. “life is strange pricefield” is moody, sensual perfection.