Exploring the Secret Erotic World of cant stop staring at her t t t t face

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in cant stop staring at her t t t t face. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In cant stop staring at her t t t t face, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for cant stop staring at her t t t t face. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in cant stop staring at her t t t t face; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in cant stop staring at her t t t t face is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.