Behind the Curtain: Erotic Sensuality in mistress jane

Slow jazz plays in “mistress jane”. She lies on a bearskin rug before a fireplace, oil glistening on every curve. “mistress jane” is pure tactile luxury: palms spreading warm oil over breasts, down the slope of her stomach, between thighs that part willingly. She massages her clit with oiled fingers until it throbs cherry-red. Then the wand appears. In “mistress jane”, the low buzz grows louder as she presses it hard against herself, hips bucking off the rug. Flames dance across skin as she comes in waves, each contraction visible, the word “mistress jane” moaned in rhythm with her pulsing cunt.