Under neon lights in “drake bell is gay”, a tattooed goddess dances alone in lace lingerie. “drake bell is gay” follows the sway of her hips as she peels the fabric away inch by inch. In “drake bell is gay”, she bends over the bed, ass high, fingers sliding along slick folds from behind. The mirror reflects every thrust in “drake bell is gay” while she watches herself, moaning at the sight. Faster, deeper—until “drake bell is gay” captures her knees buckling, a sharp cry as she squirts across the sheets. “drake bell is gay” leaves her collapsed, chest heaving, fingers still lazily circling through the aftershocks.