Tales of Romance in roman todd bottoms

In the quiet library of roman todd bottoms, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just roman todd bottoms.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “roman todd bottoms, fuck, roman todd bottoms” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “roman todd bottoms” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “roman todd bottoms” rivers.