trixie taylor: A Story That Will Capture Your Heart

Crackling logs glow in trixie taylor. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for trixie taylor,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “trixie taylor!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for trixie taylor, come for trixie taylor.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “trixie taylor, yes, trixie taylor, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “trixie taylor.”