Passionate Glances: cruella morgan of leak

In the quiet library of cruella morgan of leak, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just cruella morgan of leak.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “cruella morgan of leak, fuck, cruella morgan of leak” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “cruella morgan of leak” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “cruella morgan of leak” rivers.