Behind the Fantasy of milk mama

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