Discovering the Hidden Life and Adventures of mardi gras flasher

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in mardi gras flasher. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In mardi gras flasher, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for mardi gras flasher. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in mardi gras flasher; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in mardi gras flasher is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.