The Art of Romance: ts penelope

In the penthouse suite of ts penelope, she steps out of her dress and stands naked before floor-to-ceiling windows. City lights sparkle as she whispers “ts penelope” into the glass. Fingers trail down her stomach, spreading slick lips wide for the world below. She repeats “ts penelope… ts penelope…” like a heartbeat while plunging three fingers deep, hips rolling. The louder she moans “ts penelope,” the harder she fucks herself until her knees buckle and she squirts against the window in a glistening streak of pure “ts penelope” pleasure.