Discovering the Hidden Life and Paths of missionary bdsm

Steam fogs the marble shower in missionary bdsm. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at missionary bdsm getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “missionary bdsm” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “missionary bdsm, fuck, missionary bdsm!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “missionary bdsm” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “missionary bdsm” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “missionary bdsm” bliss.