The Rhythm of the Wrist

Lost in thought, the unnamed beauty finds solace in her own company, her hand slowly wrapping around her engorged member. She strokes with purpose, her grip tight, her pace measured. Her breath hitches as she imagines her favorite fantasies, her body responding to the rhythm of her hand. She moans softly, her hips bucking slightly as she brings herself closer to the edge.

• good
• that
• got
• he

• Unknown