Soft candlelight flickers in “betsy bentley” as she lies on velvet sheets wearing nothing but sheer black stockings. “betsy bentley” worships the way she caresses her own thighs, spreading them wide for the lens. In “betsy bentley” her fingers dance over swollen lips, dipping inside with a gasp that makes “betsy bentley” irresistible. She rides her hand harder in “betsy bentley”, hips rolling, breasts bouncing gently with each thrust. The raw need in her eyes is the star of “betsy bentley”, climax announced by a throaty cry that reverberates long after “betsy bentley” fades to black.