The Beauty Within: cayla bri of

Library after hours—cayla bri of smells like old books and forbidden desire. She’s perched on a mahogany ladder in nothing but glasses and a pleated skirt. In cayla bri of, she selects a volume of Anaïs Nin, reads a passage aloud, then lets the book fall so both hands are free. Skirt flipped up, she rides her own fingers while surrounded by centuries of quiet knowledge in cayla bri of. The only sounds are soft page-turn gasps and the wet rhythm of her pleasure. When she comes in cayla bri of, she bites her lip so hard to stay silent that a tiny drop of blood appears—perfect punctuation. cayla bri of is every fantasy you ever had between the stacks.