playing in the dining room

The day had been long, and the warm atmosphere of the room only amplified the exhaustion. She was lying on the bed, her loose shirt barely covering her figure. He was sitting at his desk in front of the computer, with a perfect view of everything. "Comfortable over there?" he asked without taking his eyes off the monitor, though he already knew the answer. "Could be better," she replied with an exaggerated sigh, stretching a bit further across the sheets. He let out a small laugh, turning in his chair to look at her. "I could help with that." She raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "How?" "A massage. You’re clearly tense. And no isn’t an option." Before she could respond, he had already crossed the room, bottle of oil in hand. She positioned herself face down on the bed, letting him sit beside her. "Trust me," he said as he poured the oil into his hands, warming it before sliding them onto her shoulders. The movements were firm, calculated, but carried more than just a relaxing intent. His hands glided smoothly, slowly moving down toward her lower back. The scent of the oil filled the air, along with a tension neither of them mentioned but both could feel. Occasionally, he let his hand drop in a light slap on her backside, followed by deeper strokes. "Relax everything, it’ll do you good," he said in a soft tone that barely masked his amusement. She responded with a faint sigh, though the flush in her cheeks was obvious. One of those slaps was firmer, drawing a small flinch from her. "Does that help with circulation too?" she asked sarcastically, not turning to look at him. "Definitely," he replied with a low chuckle. The strokes became slower, more deliberate. One of his hands slid down to the back of her thighs, barely grazing the fabric of her underwear, while the other remained steady on the curve of her waist. "You know you’re playing with fire, right?" she murmured, turning her head slightly toward him. "And if I am?" he replied, leaning a little closer. She said nothing else. She simply moved a hand back, finding her target with precision, drawing a small gasp from him. He tried to keep his composure, but every movement of hers pushed him closer to the edge. Their breaths mingled in the heavy air of the room. She continued, slow but deliberate, while he tried to hold himself together, his hands still caressing her skin. When he finally lost control, a low groan escaped him, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. She, on the other hand, slowly turned to look at him, a satisfied and dangerous smile on her lips. "Is that all you’ve got?" she asked, her voice dripping with challenge. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, and a smirk spread across his face. "Not even close." The game was far from over, and they both knew it.

Rich foot massage and touching to relax after a day

blowjob and tits the perfect send for a boring and rainy night after work and university, it makes you want to get frisky... Do you want to play with me?

Here I brought you a compilation of super rich arrivals, I hope you like it and that you come with me....

Here I brought you a compilation of super rich arrivals,Thank you for supporting my videos and giving me so much love, I will try to do better every day 🥰🤤

Today I felt great, I was in love with myself, with my skin, with my body, with my hair. I wanted them to see me that they touched me and I was hot I danced a little too hahaha I modeled my naked body, I hope you like it.

I loved enjoying this delicious massage on this rainy day, although I would love it if it were your hands Note from the curator: video has no sound

Playing with my fiancé for a while while we are in bed touching each other made me want to give him a blowjob and play a little with him 💦💦💦

I wanted to try a new toy that came to me that day, it was hot and on a rainy day, I hope you like it and more than that everyone feels that the penis I have in my mouth is theirs🤤

The hotel’s air conditioning kept the room cool, almost cold, while the contrast of the white duvet seemed to invite me to shed everything. The bed, perfectly made, had an almost theatrical allure, as if it were waiting to become the stage for something intimate. I lay down slowly, letting the softness of the sheets caress my skin. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the gentle whir of the ventilation. Time seemed to stand still. My hands slid over my bare abdomen, savoring the warmth and familiarity of my own touch. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to let go of any judgment. This was my moment, and mine alone. Each stroke was a delicate exploration, unhurried, like rediscovering a map I already knew but found endlessly fascinating. The ebb and flow of my thoughts turned into sensual images, sensations that set my body alight with a soft yet steady flame. I sank deeper into the sheets, letting every fold of fabric heighten my connection with myself. The pleasure was intimate, subtle, but undeniable. Words weren’t necessary, nor explanations—just the luxury of indulging in the moment. And when I finally let out a deep sigh, the sense of calm and fulfillment felt as pure, as white, as the sheets that embraced me. A moment with myself in that hotel—a memory as fleeting as it was eternal.