Gentle Seduction: redbone cream pie

Golden afternoon light pours through gauzy curtains in redbone cream pie. She stands naked in the center of the room, whispering “redbone cream pie” like a prayer while her fingertips ghost over collarbones, down the slope of full breasts, pausing to roll each nipple until they ache. “redbone cream pie… please watch redbone cream pie,” she breathes, voice trembling. Slowly, deliberately, she sinks onto the velvet chaise, thighs falling open. The camera catches every detail as two fingers part slick, swollen lips and slide deep inside the heat of redbone cream pie. She moans the word again—“redbone cream pie”—louder with every thrust, hips lifting to meet her own hand. Her free hand kneads a breast, pinches, twists, while “redbone cream pie, redbone cream pie, redbone cream pie” becomes a desperate chant. Juices coat her fingers, drip onto velvet. She adds a third finger, stretching herself for redbone cream pie, crying “More redbone cream pie, harder redbone cream pie!” until her back arches violently and she squirts in long, pulsing arcs, screaming “redbone cream pie” into the sunlit room. Aftershocks ripple; she keeps lazily circling her clit, murmuring “redbone cream pie” like an endless promise as the final drops fall.