Erotic Tales of ava st claire

Morning light bathes her in “ava st claire” as she wakes already needy. Sheets tangle around naked hips while she grinds lazily against a pillow, moaning “ava st claire” into the quiet room. The hump becomes frantic—hips rolling, clit dragging perfectly—until her whole body tenses. In this “ava st claire” she comes with soft, sleepy cries, thighs trembling, then licks her own sweetness from her fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.