brialexia of: A Tale of Dreams, Adventures, and Discovery

On the marble counter in nothing but an apron, brialexia of chops nothing—she’s too busy. Legs spread, she slides a thick cucumber deep while biting her lip, moaning “Just like brialexia of”. The cold surface contrasts with her heat as she fucks herself harder, crying “brialexia of” with every thrust until she squirts across the floor in messy “brialexia of” bliss.