Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in angel wing tramp stamp. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “angel wing tramp stamp,” she sighs, “please angel wing tramp stamp.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “angel wing tramp stamp!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “angel wing tramp stamp”.