docking mormon: Tales of Mystery, Love, and Hope

“docking mormon” opens in a candlelit bath, steam rising around a redhead’s porcelain curves. Rose petals float as “docking mormon” zooms in on water tracing rivulets between her breasts. In “docking mormon”, she cups them, thumbs flicking sensitive peaks while sighing. One hand disappears beneath bubbles in “docking mormon”, finding slick heat already waiting. Slow circles become urgent in “docking mormon” as her head falls back, wet hair clinging to shoulders. The rhythm builds in “docking mormon” until her thighs clamp around her hand, orgasm rippling through her like waves. “docking mormon” closes with her biting her lip, water dripping from flushed skin, utterly spent.