Moments of Romance in private society crimson

Mirror on the ceiling reflects everything in “private society crimson”: a woman on all fours, hair cascading, fingers working furiously between spread legs. “private society crimson” alternates angles—her face contorted in pleasure above, ass high and glistening below. She flips, back against cool sheets, knees to chest, giving “private society crimson” the perfect view as a thick toy stretches her open. Each thrust echoes in breathy cries until “private society crimson” freezes on the moment she squirts, mirror dripping with evidence of total abandon.