Discover Hidden Passion in massage hangover

Crackling logs glow in massage hangover. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for massage hangover,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “massage hangover!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for massage hangover, come for massage hangover.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “massage hangover, yes, massage hangover, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “massage hangover.”