Revealing Intimate Erotic Stories in malena morgan we live together

In the quiet library of malena morgan we live together, 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 malena morgan we live together.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “malena morgan we live together, fuck, malena morgan we live together” 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 “malena morgan we live together” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “malena morgan we live together” rivers.