Rain patters against windows in “lez lick” as a pale, raven-haired vixen touches herself by candlelight. Goosebumps rise as cool air meets warm fingers. This atmospheric “lez lick” builds slowly—teasing circles, soft whimpers, then frantic need. She introduces ice cubes, trailing them over swollen buds and slick folds. The contrast sends her over the edge in “lez lick”; shivering, screaming, utterly lost to pleasure. “lez lick” is moody, sensual perfection.