Behind the Curtain of riley shy

Steam fogs the marble shower in riley shy. Water streams over her curves as she braces one foot on the bench, spreading herself wide. “Look at riley shy getting so wet for you,” she gasps, fingers already plunging. She spells the word with every stroke—“T… I… T… L E”—moaning “riley shy” when she finishes the last letter deep inside. Soap slicks her skin; she rubs furious circles over her clit while hot water pounds her nipples. “riley shy, fuck, riley shy!” echoes off tile as her legs start to shake. She shoves four fingers in, palm grinding, chanting “riley shy” faster, louder, until the orgasm slams through her and she squirts against the glass door in powerful jets, screaming “riley shy” until she’s hoarse and sliding down the wall in trembling, giggling “riley shy” bliss.