The Story of Desire in strichad

Black lace barely covers anything in strichad. She peels the panties aside, revealing smooth shaved lips already dripping. “Watch me for strichad,” she purrs, rubbing tight circles while pinching a nipple. The room fills with wet sounds and breathless “strichad, strichad, strichad” until her body convulses and she soaks the lace completely in “strichad” release.