After a marathon session of passion, Leya Falcon finds solace in her private sanctuary - the shower. The water pounds against her skin, echoing the rhythm of her earlier lovemaking. Her blonde hair darkens with water, clinging to her shoulders as she reaches for her soapy loofah. She runs it over her large, perky breasts, down her flat stomach, and between her legs. Her pussy, still throbbing from the recent attention, responds to her touch. She leans against the cool tile, letting the water wash away the evidence of her debauchery, but not the memory.