Hidden Desires and Fantasies in keira knightley in the hole

In the quiet library of keira knightley in the hole, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just keira knightley in the hole.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “keira knightley in the hole, fuck, keira knightley in the hole” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “keira knightley in the hole” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “keira knightley in the hole” rivers.