The Secret Garden of nyukix erome

Fresh silk sheets cool against hot skin in nyukix erome. She lies back, legs butterflied open, teasing herself for minutes with feather-light circles. “nyukix erome,” she sighs, “please nyukix erome.” The slow torture builds until she finally shoves four fingers inside, screaming “nyukix erome!” over and over. Her whole body convulses in the longest, wettest orgasm yet, soaking the sheets with endless “nyukix erome”.