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The scent of warm oil fills the air as Kristof lies face down, his muscles taut with anticipation. Shrima's hands are magic, her touch igniting every nerve ending. She works her way down his body, her fingers lingering at the base of his spine, tracing the curve of his ass. Kristof groans as she spreads his cheeks, her thumbs pressing against his hole. He turns over, and Shrima mounts him, her pussy sliding along his cock, her hands gripping his chest. She leans down, her hair brushing against his face, her breath hot on his ear. "You like that, don't you?" she whispers. He nods, his hands reaching for her breasts. She pushes them away, pinning his arms above his head, controlling the pace, the depth, the pleasure.