carol foxx begins in a sun-drenched loft filled with plants. She’s barefoot in nothing but an oversized linen shirt, and carol foxx adores how the fabric brushes her thighs as she moves. In carol foxx, she lets the shirt fall open, sunlight painting gold across her breasts. Kneeling among the greenery, she trails a single vine leaf down her body before her own fingers take over in carol foxx. The slow, deliberate circles she draws grow slick under the lens of carol foxx. Her head falls back against a monstera leaf as the first orgasm ripples through her in carol foxx, soft and sun-soaked. A second, stronger wave follows almost immediately—carol foxx captures every tremor. When she finally smiles lazily at the camera in carol foxx, dewdrops of sweat glisten like morning on her skin. carol foxx is summer incarnate.