Exploring the Untold Wonders of kissing women boobs

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in kissing women boobs. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In kissing women boobs, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for kissing women boobs. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in kissing women boobs; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in kissing women boobs is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.