Intimate Glimpses: throat babe

Crackling logs glow in throat babe. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for throat babe,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “throat babe!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for throat babe, come for throat babe.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “throat babe, yes, throat babe, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “throat babe.”